Paid to the Pirate by Una Rohr
Chapter 21
Charlotte
I hadn’t wanted to sleep next to him, hadn’t wanted him to force me. That was the trauma talking. Right?
I told myself these obvious lies as I awoke in Colt’s arms. Well, his good arm, at least, was draped protectively across my torso. Thankfully, I’d faced away from him as I’d slumbered and didn’t want to turn around yet because I knew very well the condition in which most men awoke in the-
“Take off all your clothes,” Colt whispered into my ear. “I want to examine you for injuries.”
I blinked. How did he know I’d awoken?
“Whatever happened to good morning?” I huffed.
I could practically hear his lazy grin behind me. “It is for me. Is it for you?”
“Asks the man who beats and molests me at every given chance. Do you care?”
Colt barked a laugh. “I’m checking to make sure you’re okay, aren’t I?”
I drew the neck of my shirt tighter around me, hesitant.
“You’re injured,” I pointed out.
“I’m fine.”
“You said you wouldn’t touch me.”
“That was during the night. It’s morning now.”
“I’m fine.”
“I need to make sure. As a captain I’m nothing if not thorough.”
Yes, I thought. I’ve heard the crew grumble about it often enough. Colt’s fastidiousness didn’t match my image of a vulgar pirate captain.
I huffed again and yanked my shirt from the waistband of my skirts, wanting to get it over with quickly. Colt grabbed my wrist.
“No. Stand. Let me see you undress.”
Grumbling, I shuffled off the bed and tuned to face him, still pouting.
Dear god, he looked handsome in the morning. His hair had tousled about in an appealing, carefree manner. His beard had grown into a deeper stubble. He was so very different from the men in our settlement, and yet an enigma, both more and less refined.
At the warning of Colt’s raised eyebrows, I removed my shirt, bunched it into a ball, and threw it at his chest. He caught it with his good arm, laughing. Since I couldn’t outright disobey, I resolved to follow his orders in the most rebellious way I could. He wanted a show, I’d deny him. Repeating the process, I quickly stripped my skirt and threw it at Colt, who once again caught it while laughing.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” I quipped in a voice to show I was not at all glad.
“I am. Now let’s see how you… feel.” Colt dipped his head in the direction of the bed, commanding my return.
Submissively, I laid down beside Colt. He rose on his good elbow to examine me. At first, Colt watched my face carefully, almost as if he hesitated. Then his hands roved by body and my breasts responded by swelling and rising to meet him, nipples hardening as if screaming that they longed for his touch, and with his keen gaze he missed none of it. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratification from the persistent way Colt seemed unable to refrain from touching me for very long. His fingertips grazed my skin, reverent, almost worshipful.
Colt bent down and planted searing kisses on my flesh. I didn’t know what was between us, but I didn’t want him to stop. His mouth moved lower, tantalizingly close to the top of my mound. My breathing quickened in anticipation of the unknown.
“Is this okay?” Colt asked between kisses.
Why was he asking? Colt never requested permission. Did it have anything to do with yesterday’s attack?
Did it mean the power to stop him was mine?
At my pause, Colt halted, making me whimper. Staring at me with concern in his black eyes, I realized he’d misread my silence. I realized he intended to put his mouth on me. And I realized my cunt was throbbing for it.
I was at a crossroads and one word would select my direction. His direction.
I was weak -- Colt made me weak. Or was it strength to admit what I wanted?
Oh God. I was neither strong enough to speak the words nor strong enough to deny them.
I snuck glances at Colt’s face as I let my legs fall slightly open -- the only indication of my desires I could give.
Grasping one thigh, Colt spread my legs wider and I jumped a little as he inserted himself between them. My heart slammed against my ribcage as I wondered what exactly he’d do and how it would feel. He leaned his head down and the rough scrape of his beard against my sensitive, inner thighs made my eyelids flutter. I chanced a look at Colt and found him grinning with satisfaction.
“Lady Charlotte, do you realize you’ve soaked the bed?”
I nearly choked.
“You’re so wet, it’s dripping onto my linens.”
To prove his point, Colt ran his fingers through my folds, smearing my wetness, coaxing guttural moans from me. Spreading me wide, Colt flicked his tongue against my clit and I screamed at the astounding pleasure.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a reaction from you, Lady Charlotte,” Colt teased. “Is this the way to force you to reveal your secrets?”
Punctuating the question, he took my aching bud in his mouth and sucked. My legs fell wide and I melted into the bed with animalistic moans. My hands shook as I attempted to restrain them from grabbing Colt’s head and pressing him closer.
He pulled back and I whined.
“Tell me what I want to know, Charlotte,” he urged, lazily running a finger up and down my slit. His breath teased at the pleasure his mouth could bring. So close, but he denied me.
“Tell me everything.”
I needed him to continue, but I had nothing about the past to reveal.
“I… can’t,” I protested. “It’s too much.”
What you are doing is too much. And not enough.
“Then we’ll start easy,” Colt advised. “Start at the beginning. Tell me, were you planning to escape for months or was it a spur-of-the-moment decision? What happened that night, Charlotte?”
I thrashed my head side to side. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t handle it if he tortured me with his mouth the way he had with his fingers, bringing me closer but never allowing satisfaction. In my lust-filled haze, I thought I might actually die.
“Tell me what happened, Charlotte,” Colt softly implored. “Why did you leave?”
Colt’s tongue ran the length of my slit, then he stopped again. I wailed and broke.
“I had no plan!” I shouted, looking down at him with unrestrained longing. Colt searched my face wildly and asked, “What changed? What made you do it?”
“I – I… don’t know.” What could I possibly say that would sound plausible?
Colt’s tongue found my favorite spot once more, licking and sucking lewdly, sending me into bliss.
“Please, don’t stop,” I begged. I couldn’t help it when my fingers wove into his hair -- a plea to continue.
“Tell me what made you leave,” Colt demanded between licks, his breath caressing my too-sensitive opening.
Desperate for him to continue, I cried, “You know very well! Don’t make me say it.”
“Because of… what I’d done? Or because of what happened between us that night?”
What had you done to me in the past?
“Both,” I moaned, unsure which was the better option.
I felt Colt’s warm breath on my sex once more as he sighed, sadly. “I’m sorry for everything, Charlotte.” He nuzzled my wet cunt with his nose, lewdly inhaling, and I shivered. “I’m so sorry. Let me show you how sorry I am.”
Without restraint, Colt dove into my sex, lapping and sucking. He slid two fingers inside me as delicious accompaniment to the ministrations with his tongue.
I cried like the whore I was. Colt’s whore.
I didn’t want to think about how many women he might have brought to pleasure like this, it made me insane with jealousy.
When my thrashing increased, his tongue-lashing matched my pace, driving me higher. I bucked frantically in his mouth. I prayed to the Lord Colt wouldn’t stop, though I didn’t think the Lord answered a harlot’s prayers, and certainly not in askance of sin.
With no other option, I prayed to Colt.
“Please, don’t stop. I’m begging you. Don’t stop.”
The god before me listened to my prayers. He kept going until I broke against his lips, coming apart with frenzied cries as if I spoke in tongues. Perhaps I did. This is no god, I reminded myself. The devil had me in his mouth. So what demonic spirits had seized my wanton soul in such a wicked state?
I’d never known pleasure could be like this. A fear, matching the joy in size, crept into my heart. As I came down from the heights of bliss, that fear spread throughout my limbs, causing a fight or flight response.
I couldn’t fall for a man like Colt; couldn’t allow him these trespasses upon my body. I couldn’t take down all his shipmates on my own, either. Not without poison, at least. Which meant I had to flee. Because I was in danger of losing worse than the flesh from my back or even my life.
I might lose my soul. To the devil between my legs.
What happened in our past that makes you sorry now?
Perhaps Colt had done these wicked things to me -- or at least attempted to -- throughout my time on his ship. I must not have been responsive then. At least, not to this extent. And he was sorry for his attempts, I reasoned, because they were likely forceful. Maybe, one night, they’d gone too far.
Who knows how much further we’d go if I continued on this path?
Nassau, I vowed. When we dock, I’ll find escape.