The Pirate and the Feisty Maid-- Part One—At His Hand (3 page)

Molly was all too aware of Ronan’s sharp
gaze, her cheeks flush with heat. “Aye, m’ lord. She did.”

“Well, love, ye were eager enough to find
yerself in her arms, earlier. Now I want to see what ye get up to
while I’m gone.” He still sat there, having all too good a view of
what would soon happen.

Molly knew there would be no reprieve, so she did her
best to do as she’d been told, fully aware that the delicious
tension in her body was only heightened by Ronan’s presence. She
was lightheaded, her breathing shallow as she tried to ignore her
nerves and concentrate on Ilsa. Molly ran a hand up her leg,
trailing kisses on her maid’s smooth skin until her lips found
their way to the back of Ilsa’s knee, before moving on to the hot
red marks across her bottom.

Ilsa shifted onto her side and pulled Molly up,
kissing her without a moment’s hesitation, Ilsa’s lips soft and
sweet. If her maid had been timid or scared at the start of things,
she was no more—and it thrilled Molly to see her maid so confident
and sure, especially in Ronan’s presence.

Deepening her kiss, Ilsa gently pushed Molly onto her
back and shifted on top of her, parting Molly’s knees with her own.
Ilsa’s hips pressed against hers, her own hips thrusting in
response as her throbbing sex rubbed against her maid’s, hoping for
some release. Knowing how to please Molly, Ilsa nipped and kissed
her way to erect nipples, biting and suckling them, so Molly felt
the tug in her quim.

Nestling herself between Molly’s legs, Ilsa continued
her exploration, parting Molly’s outer lips with her tongue to find
the hot sex within. Ilsa lapped at the hard nub with long firm
strokes as her fingers dipped in just enough to tease. Unable to
help herself, Molly’s hips shifted in search of more, her hands
knotted in Ilsa’s long blonde hair.

Molly was dripping wet, her sex throbbing, when Ilsa
finally showed her some mercy. Nipping and sucking her swollen bud,
Ilsa slipped three slender fingers deep inside, curling and
stretching them, so Molly’s torment was complete. She felt the
energy build within her and knew she could take little more.

Her eyes finally drifted to Ronan, his gaze fervid as
he watched, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it with
long, steady pulls. Then, just as her release was within reach, he
said, “That’ll be enough, Ilsa. If ye’d be so good as to straddle
yer lady, I’m sure she’d love to oblige ye in turn.”

Molly nearly cried out in desperation as her cunt
throbbed, soaking wet with her consuming need. Ilsa ran a hand down
Molly’s cheek, before brushing her fingers across Molly’s lips, the
smell and taste of her juices on Ilsa’s fingers. Their eyes met and
Ilsa got herself in position, a knee on either side of Molly’s
head.

Molly reached up and pulled her maid down, unable to
resist her musky sweet scent, parting her maid’s slick folds with
her tongue, before sucking and nipping her swollen nub. Her hand
wandered up to pinch and squeeze Ilsa’s nipples erect, and when
Ilsa returned the favor, Molly couldn’t hold back a moan.

Still frantic for some release from Ilsa’s earlier
attentions, it was all Molly could do to keep her hips from
writhing, as her mouth hungrily latched onto Ilsa’s sex and Molly
thrust her tongue deep into the wet slit. Bringing her free hand
around to grab Ilsa’s arse, Molly pulled her in even closer so she
could thrust her fingers into Ilsa’s sex from behind with slow
strokes while she sucked on Ilsa’s clit.

Ilsa pressed down in her need, and Molly knew the
lass was close to her release. Molly slipped her slick finger up
Ilsa’s arse, pushing her over the edge, as her maid quaked and
trembled above her.

Ilsa shifted to Molly’s side, covering her mouth with
a quick kiss, when Molly felt a roughened hand on her thigh, Ronan
now between her legs as he moved towards her. “Ye’re free to go
now, Ilsa—or stay, if ye prefer. The decision is yers.”

Ilsa’s gaze drifted to Molly in question for a
moment, but then her decision was made. She gave Molly a quick kiss
and then slipped out of the room—not surprising, really, since
their games could easily turn towards the more adventurous with
Ronan joining them.

Turning her attention back to Ronan, Molly’s legs
parted, her hips already thrusting towards him in her desperation,
hoping for some release since he’d not allowed it with Ilsa.

He let out a little laugh, his eyes sparkling with
mischief and affection. “Sweet Molly, what is it ye want?”

He shifted on top of her, but kept his hard cock just
a breath away from her aching cunt, the head of his shaft teasingly
close as it brushed against her in a whisper of a touch. By now,
she was well past begging for release, barely able to get the words
out. “Please… Ronan.”

His lips curled in a smile. “Aye, I suppose ye’ve
suffered enough, lass.” He plunged into her, burying himself in her
slick sex, making every nerve in her body jump. Her hips met his,
and it took only a few more strokes before her body tightened
around his hard cock. A wave of pleasure crashed over her and he
met her release with his own, their coupling complete.

Wrapped in his strong arms, he cradled her to him,
his breathing heavy when he spoke. “I love ye, Molly. With all my
heart. Ye know that, aye?”

“Aye, love.” But there was something in his voice
that pulled her out of her blissful contentment and sent a shard of
worry straight to her pounding heart. “Ronan… what is it?”

“Dinna fash, lass. We’ll discuss it before long.”

***

End of Part One

Read ahead for a sample of
Part Two- Her New
Lover

Chapter One

“But you only just got back.” Molly couldn’t believe
Ronan would be leaving her again, his words like a punch to the
gut. In just a week’s time, he’d be returning to sea, despite
having just returned home after a six-month absence. Her temper
sparked, and she made no move to hide it—nor could she hide the
tears that shimmered and stung her eyes as she struggled to hold
them back.

“Molly, ye ken I’d not be going if I didn’t need to,
but we’re far enough into the season that I’ve no choice if I’m to
make the voyage there before the weather turns.” He took another
pull from his ale when the full meaning of his words hit her.

“So you don’t mean to return until next season?” This
time, his words were like a knife to the heart. She was numb with
disbelief, not wanting to believe what he was saying.

“It’ll be too dangerous to try and return. I’ll
winter in the Indies before heading back. But this opportunity
willna present itself again. I’d not leave ye otherwise.”

His blue eyes held hers, so she found herself unable
to look away. “Then take me with you. Please, don’t leave me here,
Ronan. I cannot manage without you for such a length of time when
I’ll barely have ye back a week before you depart once more. And
you promised me—you promised to not ever leave me longer than a
single season.”

He’d given her his word—as long as they were
together, he’d promised to love her and keep her safe. He’d
promised to never leave her longer than a season, vowing to always
return to her for the winter, fully aware of the difficulties she’d
had as a child, after losing her father to the sea.

Having grown up around sailors and pirates all her
life, she refused to be just another abandoned woman, never seeing
her man and waiting months or years for his return—if he ever did
make it back. Women and children left to fend for themselves any
way they were able. Well, she’d not join their ranks—especially not
after she’d so narrowly escaped that fate.

“Och, love. Do ye not think I’d rather be here with
ye? And I ken that I gave ye my word, but I must go, and ‘tis too
dangerous for ye to come along. Besides, ye’ll have Ilsa to keep ye
company while I’m away.”

She pounded her fist on the table, her fork jumping
off her plate with a clatter, absolutely furious with him—and hurt.
How could he do this to her, especially when he knew how she
worried about him? Especially when he’d given her his word?

Ronan had only just returned to her, and now he’d be
leaving her behind to worry once again. Not counting the few days
they’d have together before his departure, he’d be gone a year and
a quarter once all was said and done—far more than the season he’d
promised.

She couldn’t bear it, and her fear and anger got the
best of her. “I curse the day I laid eyes on you, Ronan.”

She pushed her chair back and headed for the door,
but he was out of his seat and at her side, pulling her into his
embrace before she could make her escape. She struggled to get
free, but her efforts were futile, his strong arm around her waist
like a vise, the nearness of him too much, upset as she was.

“Sweet Molly, ye ken ye dinna mean that.” She was not
fooled by the sweetness in his voice, for they both knew she was
being bold. Yet with her temper up, she didn’t care of the
consequences.

She held his gaze, her own fierce, for this was no
longer a game. “If you leave me here alone, I’ll mean every word of
it. Is it not enough that you’re usually gone from March until
October? I’ve never once complained, Ronan, but you’ll be gone well
over a year, what with you only having returned, and I cannot bear
it. And for what?”

“It’s just the one time, lass.”

“It’s never just the once, though is it? What’s so
important, it’d have you breaking your promise? Do we not already
have everything we need?” Molly knew Ronan had enough for them to
live well. Did he really need more?

“Och, lass. I could lose it all and still be the
richest man if I had ye at my side.” His words melted away some of
her anger, so that when he kissed her with a teasing brush of his
lips, her stomach clenched and her heart raced. She couldn’t help
but lean into him, her need to keep him close extinguishing her
anger, only to replace it with desperation. “I love ye Molly.”

“Then I’m begging you—if you’ll not stay, then take
me with you. I promise not to get in your way. Please, Ronan. I
cannot face the winter without you. I’ll do nothing but worry until
you return, and I swear it’ll be enough to do me in.”

“Molly… I canna have ye stuck on a ship for months
with those men. Criminals, the whole lot of them.” He ran a
roughened finger down her cheek. “I couldna guarantee yer
safety—nor mine—if I stood in their way. With yer beauty, they’d
knife me for sure if it meant a chance to be with ye.”

She fisted handfuls of his shirt, and leaned her
forehead against his chest, taking a deep breath to try and calm
herself. “Then they need not know. I’ll happily stay in your cabin
for the entirety of the voyage. You could sneak me onto the ship
before the crew boarded.”

But already he was shaking his head no, making her
heart shatter. “We’ll be at sea for months, and ye ken how small my
cabin is. Ye’d not survive it, love. But the winter will be over
before long and I’ll be back to ye in no time at all.”

“Please—”

“
Molly
. There’s nothing to be done for it.”
His voice was stern, but with her temper now back, she struggled to
get free of his grasp, infuriating her further when his lips
twitched into a smile. “Surely ye’ve not already forgotten what
happens when ye disobey me.”

His hand went down and squeezed her sore arse, her
hips jumping against him, his cock now hard. But this time, she was
in no mood. “Let go of me, Ronan.”

Her fists pounded on his chest to no avail, as he
lifted her off her feet and carried her out of the room and to
their sleeping chamber. Her kicks and punches could have been
landing on a stone wall for all the good they did.

Her eyes went wide and her efforts doubled when Ronan
grabbed a length of silk cording from the bedside table. As a sea
captain, he knew his knots, and there’d be no hope of getting free
if he bound her. Yet her curses refused to turn into pleas.

“Damn you, Ronan.” Already, he had the cord knotted
snug around her wrists, hauling her arms over her head to string
her to the metal hook mounted on the thick wooden beam. Still
cursing, she hung there writhing like a worm on a hook, her efforts
utterly useless.

Ronan propped himself on the arm of the sofa, his
arms and legs crossed before him, and a smirk on his face as he
watched her squirm and struggle. “Dear Molly, was I gone so long
that ye’ve reverted to yer old ways? I thought we’d cured ye of yer
feistiness and mischief.”

It was one thing for her to be frustrated and
cursing, and an entirely different thing for her to be truly angry
with him. But angry she was—and hurt. As hardened a man as he was,
she knew he had little tolerance for it, and could not truly bear
it. Without another word, she gave him one final look, cold and
hard, and then looked away from him.

She heard him let out a long sigh. “Och, Molly, what
are ye doing, aye?”

He stepped to her side and nuzzled her cheek before
nibbling on her ear, as she stood there ignoring him. With her
hands still strung up above her, her body was pulled taut, so that
his touch, now trailing down her side to her waist, set every nerve
tingling through the thin linen of her chemise.

Yet she still ignored him and held firm. “Ye ken I
canna stand for ye to be upset with me, love. And our games are no
fun, if ye willna play.” She could hear his frown come through in
his voice, though she’d yet to look at him.

He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her
close, trailing kisses across her jaw line before finally finding
his way to her lips.

Though she didn’t return his kiss, she did finally
look at him, if only to pin him with an icy glare.

“What would ye have me do, lass? Ye canna come, and I
must go.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, his eyes on hers,
threatening to melt away her anger.