Sea Hawk’s Mistress
Ellora’s Cave – www.ellorascave.com
Copyright 2007 Marianne LaCroix
All rights reserved.
Shelley awoke, her
vision blurred and her head still spinning. She felt like she’d been on an
all-night beer binge and was now paying the price with one hell of a hangover.
Blinking, she saw
faint light from a nearby window. She tried to move to see better, but
couldn’t.
Dear God, I’m tied
down!
Ropes secured her
wrists to the small headboard and her feet were tied to the footboard. How the
hell did she end up here…tied down…and naked?
She was completely
naked. A thin sheet covered her—barely—and she was very aware of the linen
brushing against her sensitive skin.
Glancing about the
small, dim room, she noted it was sparsely furnished with a bed, a small table
and two wood chairs, all stained in the same dark hue. In the slight breeze she
could smell the ocean, the salty air mixing with the scent of well-oiled wood.
If she didn’t know better, this seemed to be a cabin in some ancient ship.
I must be dreaming.
I’ve been reading too many books about sunken galleons and pirates bent on
plundering.
When the room rocked
with a gentle motion, she realized this was more than a dream. She was
indeed on a ship.
In bed.
Tied down.
And naked.
What the f—
The only door in the
room opened and in walked a very tall figure, powerful and muscular, judging
from his shadowy silhouette.
“I see you’re awake,”
he said in a clipped British accent.
He stepped into the
small cabin and the walls seemed to close in about her with his mere presence.
Shutting the door behind him, this hulk of a man stood at the foot of the bed,
staring down at her.
“Where am I and why
am I tied down to a bed?” Her voice shook as she watched him move to the table.
Without a word he
reached for a lantern—an oil lamp?—and struck a match. He lit the lamp and the
gloom of the room lifted a little.
What the hell
happened? Last she remembered she was on the dive with the Maritime research
team. How did she get to be in this situation?
And who was this hunk
of a man who gazed at her with eyes of the darkest chocolate? His dark hair was
pulled back into a hasty queue and his skin glowed with a healthy tan—the mark
of a man who lived and worked in the sun.
He stood silent,
staring. Again.
He obviously was not
going to answer her questions.
“Excuse me, but could
you please say something?”
Instead he reached
over and snatched off the sheet, revealing her naked body to his dark, alluring
eyes.
“Hey! Put that back!”
she ordered, wriggling in her restraints.
“Yes, keep moving
like that, luv. You have fine breasts that bounce and
sway with you.”
She instantly
stilled, and he laughed.
The vibration of his
laughter tickled her skin, like a shiver running across the surface and
gathering at the apex of her thighs.
He turned and pulled
over one of the chairs, then sat down next to the bed. He sat in silence as he
examined her with his eyes. She felt his gaze roam slowly over her exposed
body. Every inch was bare and she lay still, wishing he’d cover her again. The
sheet wasn’t much but at least it was a barrier to those eyes.
“What do you call
that…thing you wore when we found you?”
She assumed he meant
her diving suit. “It’s a rubber skin suit.”
He cocked his head.
“Skin suit?”
“Yes.”
His expression was
hard and she trembled beneath his gaze. Her body was alive with desire, a
tangible heat that seemed to pump throughout every cell. Why did she want him
to touch her skin so much? The warmth from those steely eyes made her
temperature rise—and her cunt ache with a need she couldn’t explain.
“How did you get to be
on the Santa Rosa?”
Her gaze snapped to
his. “What do you mean? I was on a dive.”
“Dive?”
“You know…a research
dive.”
He shook his head in
confusion.
“I was part of a team
studying the Santa Rosa.”
“How come we didn’t
find you aboard before it sank?”
She paused. Before
it sank? “What do you mean?”
“We boarded the Santa
Rosa and took all the cargo in the hold and searched all the cabins before
it sank. You weren’t there, yet we found you floating in the wreckage that
surfaced.”
The small cabin
closed in about her even more. It was then she noticed his clothes. He wore tan
pants that buttoned in the front, and brown leather thigh-high boots. His white
linen shirt was open at the collar and he wore a brown leather vest, unbuttoned
and loose. Sexy and alluring—like a swashbuckling movie hero.
What the hell was
going on?
“Who are you?” she
croaked.
“I am Captain Jason
Flint, and you are aboard my ship, the Sea Hawk.”
Captain Flint? Dear
God, he lived almost four hundred years ago! She remembered reading about him. He
was one of the more curious buccaneers that sailed the seas—born into wealth,
second son of a British lord, Flint turned to a life of piracy when his father
died and his brother inherited the title and the estate. It was believed that
bad blood between the brothers drove Flint out of England, and fate made him a
pirate. He carved his legend into history by attacking ships bound from Mexico
to Spain…
Wait. The Santa
Rosa had distinct cannon damage. Pirates—Captain Flint—had sunk the Santa
Rosa! Well, it certainly answered that mystery.
But the revelation
paled to another very disturbing situation—she was supposedly talking to a dead
pirate captain, in his cabin, on his ship, while she lay naked, bound
and vulnerable. This wasn’t happening.
But here she was, and
he was sitting close, the scent of the sea and male swirling about him,
wrapping her in his sensual appeal.
“Speak, woman.” His
voice cut into her thoughts.
“I don’t understand
this at all.” How could she be here with Captain Flint? Was it possible—no, it
can’t be. This had to be a joke. It had to be. Didn’t it?
“There’s nothing to
understand.” At her questioning look, he said, “I found you and now you are my
captive.”
“What do you mean,
I’m your captive?” the woman asked, her temper rising as her skin blushed
becomingly.
Jason had to admit,
this woman was the best find from his latest victory. Sinking the Santa Rosa
was just another notch in his pirating career but this woman, whoever she was,
had a quality about her. Even if she had worn strange clothes and spoke
to him unlike any other woman of his acquaintance, she obviously had
intelligence, as well as good grooming skills.
He attributed her
excellent physical condition to the band of ownership she was found wearing.
Her former master must have taken special care of this slave. Upon seeing her
flawless skin and her shockingly perfect teeth, Jason was mesmerized. His cock
had been rock-solid since he’d laid eyes on her. When the beauty opened her
eyes, he was spellbound by their dark brown mystery. Who was she and how did
she come to be floating in the open ocean?
Surely she will be
missed. Her master would want her back. Jason could ransom her, but the thought
of giving her over to another man was hard to swallow…
Since when did
Captain Flint care if a woman shared her body with several men? It was a way of
life on the high seas, and Jason had sampled many willing wenches in his
travels. But this woman brought to the surface a forgotten sense of—dare he
even think it?—honor.
When his crew had
spotted her and dragged her aboard ship bedecked in that odd black skin, Jason
felt the need to protect her. He couldn’t let his crew have her, to use her
body for their sexual release. No, she would only serve one master on this ship—him.
He reached out and
placed a hand over the curved rise of one breast. Her little gasp was a jolt of
awareness to his straining manhood. He squeezed and she closed her eyes, as
though fighting the arousal his touch sparked within her.
“Stop that,” she
whispered.
“You’re mine, luv. I can touch you.”
Her body betrayed her
as she arched upward, her breast thrust firmly into his palm. Her nipple was
hard and pert and when he pinched at its stiffness, she whimpered.
“Please don’t,” she
begged breathlessly.
Jason ignored her
pleas, not convinced of her denials when her body reacted so deliciously to his
caress. “What’s your name?”
She opened her eyes
and he was once again struck by their dark beauty. “Shelley.”
He could easily see
her atop a horse in Hyde Park, several suitors following her in hopes of a
favorable glance. She brought to life a world he’d left behind. Years living by
the speed of his sloop and the skill of his sword, and now he thought of rides
in the park, stealing kisses in the moonlight and holidays filled with loving
family. What was it about this woman that rekindled those memories from so long
ago, from a life he’d rather forget?
“Please, untie me.”
She struggled against the ropes. He wasn’t even sure why he’d tied her down to
his bed. Where could she escape to? It was more for her protection. He desired
her fiercely and he wanted to make sure none would sample her sweet flesh. He’d
undressed her from that “skin” and took time to touch her soft curves while she
lay resting in his bed. The ropes were to make sure she would stay out of
trouble until he made sure she understood the rules.
“Stay here in this
cabin.” At her glare, he added, “My men would not think twice in ravishing you
without mercy. You are safe as long as you follow my orders and stay here.”
“But I can’t stay in
here forever.”
“You can go topside,
but only if I am with you. Do you understand?”
She seemed to
consider her predicament and he hoped she’d be sensible. A pirate ship full of
horny men was a dangerous place for any woman. However, his men would obey his
command. The girl was not to be disturbed or touched or the pain of death would
be their punishment. Pirates are ruthless and they will only follow a strong
captain. If he claimed Shelley as his property, they would stay away…unless
Jason met with the sharp side of a cutlass.
“I’ll stay here. I
won’t try to run,” she said in a low voice.
“There’s nowhere to
run but into the sea.” He stood from his chair, pulled a dagger from his boot
and sliced through the bonds on her wrists first, then the ones about her
ankles.
Once free, she
scurried for the sheet he’d pulled from her body and wrapped herself in it,
hiding her creamy skin and inviting breasts.
“Know this—you are
my slave. Whatever I want, whenever I order it…” His voice trailed off as
he reached for her wrist bearing the silver slave bangle, then said, “You will
obey my every command.”