Paid to the Pirate by Una Rohr

Chapter 22

Charlotte

“Land ahead!” came the shout from one of the watch crew. I hurried to the railing but as we sailed closer, I couldn’t see the comfort of civilization anywhere. Where were all the buildings, the people? Nothing met my gaze but pristine beaches and swaying palms under a cloudless sky.

I heard Colt approach behind me. “Captain,” I said, both dismayed and alarmed, “where is the town?”

“About five miles north and around that bend,” Colt replied.

At my quizzical look, he explained, “We drop anchor here first. Wash up in the cove. Sober up, if needed, as the men ready for the first roaring night at port. Conks gives the crew a last-minute talking to, we take a secondary count of our stores-” Colt frowned and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Now you’ve got me talking as if your act is real. You know all this, Charlotte. Let’s resume your little game when I don’t have my hands full,” he said, giving me a chiding look and quickly departing to manage the men.

I remained aboard for most of the day, while the crew took turns in the jolly boat, rowing out to bathe in a secluded cove. Returning to deck they stripped again and hung wet, recently washed clothing out to dry.

I couldn’t imagine this practice to be common amongst pirates. It was as if Colt wanted to make a good impression upon docking.

He’s a fastidious captain indeed.

Sometime in the late afternoon, Colt took my arm and announced, “It’s our turn.”

“Turn for what?” I asked.

He cocked that devilish, one-sided grin. “To bathe, my lady.”

I gulped but had no choice but to follow Colt down the ladder and into the awaiting jolly boat. When I reached the last few steps, he clasped my waist, lifted and deposited me on a bench. Wincing at the pain in his arm, he asked Conks and Johnson to come along to assist in the rowing, yet the captain stubbornly tried helping with his good arm. I sat playing with my skirt and trying not to steal glances at Colt’s muscles as they moved in his arms with the rhythm of his strokes.

“Why the cleansing ritual?” I asked, as we headed toward the cove. “Why not storm the town dirty and bloody and strike fear into the hearts of everyone who crosses your path?”

“Are we back to your game, Charlotte?” Colt asked, raising his eyebrows.

I didn’t answer and he shrugged.

“Men at sea forget themselves, forget they’re even men. I’ve found that taking a day to remind them helps bridge the gap between the wilds of these waters and the customs of town. Long ago, when we docked, their energies spiked too high. Fights broke out, theft ran rampant, women were not treated in a civilized manner. Maurice wasn’t a help in-” Colt cut himself off at the mention of the man I supposedly murdered.

I didn’t do it, I wanted to shout.

There was a tense pause between us before he concluded, “Such behavior threatened our welcome in certain establishments. As you’re well aware, my crew has enough of a reputation that we don’t need theatrics of any kind to intimidate anyone into compliance.”

Yes, I thought wryly, I’m not only aware as your reputation preceded you, I’m familiar with your intimidation first-hand.

“You didn’t feel the need to bathe before raiding our settlement,” I pointed out.

“That’s because it was a raid,” Colt said, as if I tested his patience. “Didn’t know if we’d only bloody ourselves further in the process.”

“But in the pirate capital of the world your band of sailing heathens act as civilized men?” I scoffed. “What is it, honor amongst thieves?”

“Flawed as it may be, you’ve always known I find more honor in our democratic world of heathens than in that oppressive one of kingly privilege you’re so determined to defend.”

Conks and Johnson, who’d been politely trying to pretend they weren’t listening up until this point, nodded their heads in agreement.

I could tell from Colt’s tone I’d struck a nerve. Head bent, I must have looked shocked or chastised at his temper, because Colt softened and amended, “I concede your point that merchant ships do not feel very honored to have their cargo plundered at the hands of my men. But there’s honor between pirates.”

#

Once we reached the shore, Conks and Johnson rowed back while Colt took my hand and led me to the edges of the rocky cove where the men before us had bathed. I’d imagined they simply dipped in the sea and called it cleaning, but I was surprised to find rough wedges of soap and scrubbing brushes scattered about the rocks.

Colt wasted no time in stripping his clothing and jumping into the turquoise water so quickly I didn’t even get a look at his manhood.

Not that I was trying.

Grinning, his head appeared above the surface.

“Your turn, Lady Charlotte,” he commanded.

I clutched the neck of my shirt. It was one thing to be naked in the seclusion of the captain’s cabin, it was another matter entirely under the open sky.

“I’ll stay in the water,” Colt said. “Take off your clothes. Now.”

“I can’t,” I protested, glancing over my shoulder. The cove was hidden from view of The Dread Night, and no one seemed likely to happen upon the beach, but that didn’t make it right. “Not here.”

“I can come up there and do it for you.”

“No.”

“It’s safe,” Colt teased. “Sharks tend to stay by the reef out there.”

My eyes bulged and he laughed. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not -- cruelty was Colt’s currency after all, paving his way forward in this new world. Or repaying in merciless doses those who defied him.

So why hadn’t he simply threatened my life to learn the truth?

Because it’s crueler this way, I argued. To drag it out.

Colt tilted his head, eyebrows raised -- a command. Impossibly, with rivulets of water dripping from his thick, dark hair and down his strong, bare chest, he was even more handsome. Too handsome to trust myself near.

“Strip, Charlotte,” Colt said, his tone alone a warning.

Reluctantly and as slowly as possible, I removed my recently-acquired boots, skirt, and shirt before the setting sun. Standing as bare as the day I was born, I crossed my arms over my chest and made no further move. The water looked shallow enough to stand, but I didn’t want to get into it naked, and not with Colt especially.

“Now jump. Jump or I’ll belt you,” Colt said. He thought a moment, then corrected, “I’ll get your bottom wet and then I’ll belt it and it will hurt a lot worse.”

I groaned, knowing that option only pleased him more.

When he made a move toward the rocks, I jumped --

-- and screamed as I hit the water.

It wasn’t shallow; I had misjudged. My feet scrambled, toes just scraping the seabed if I sunk a bit, but not enough for me to keep my head above water. Thrashing and shouting, I felt Colt’s solid arms wrap around me.

“What are you doing?” he cried, brow knit with confusion.

“I thought it was shallow,” I sputtered, coughing up water. “I can’t swim.”

“You can’t-” He froze and then threw his head back, laughing heartily. “No, a lady wouldn’t know how to swim, would she?” Colt pulled me close. “Hold onto me.”

I already was. My hands loosely clutched his shoulders, but at the offer I held on tighter. Curiously though, my legs kicked languidly, as if muscle memory took hold. As if they did know the sea.

It was probably true. How could I still cling to foolish hope when so much evidence to the contrary existed? I’d been aboard a pirate ship, and thus, it was likely I had known how to swim.

But certainly never like this. Naked. With Colt.

“No, tighter,” he said, voice low and husky. “Wrap your arms and legs around me. I want those wet breasts pressed against my chest.”

I snapped my eyes up to his, shaking my head.

“Do it or I’ll let you drown.”

Gritting my teeth, I kicked my legs up around his waist and encircled his neck with my arms. But it wasn’t enough. Colt pressed me firmly against him and I squealed. I could feel his sizable hardness beneath my rear.

Too big. Too long. Lurking beneath the water like a bloody sea monster. My breath quickened at my own dirty imagination.

“Do you know what I’m picturing, Lady Charlotte?” he teased in my ear. “Your cunt. I can picture it any time I want. It’s spread wide open right now, isn’t it? Unprotected. At my mercy.”

His words made me whimper. Monster was accurate.

“Hold on tight. If you let go, all I have to do is bob you down… just a little… and slide you right onto my cock.”

Retreating into the safety of manners, I spat, “Your speech is filthy. Unbefitting a captain.”

Colt grinned. “Befitting a pirate captain, I’d say. And how would you know? How many of those have you met in your pampered life, my lady?”

“One too many,” I countered.

Colt barked a laugh, sharp white canines poking out.

“Kiss me,” he commanded suddenly, and my heart skipped a beat. After my first night on the ship, he’d never ordered me to kiss him. He’d forced unimaginably lewd activities on me, but never a kiss.

I pulled my head back in refusal.

Colt immediately loosened his hold around my waist -- a threat to let me drown. I instantly clung to him harder.

“Shall I peel your arms from around my neck?” he taunted. “I’ll do it unless you kiss me.”

“The only way you can ever inspire a lady to kiss you is by threatening her life,” I snapped.

Colt slowly tilted his head to the side as he gazed at me with those impossibly black eyes. The act, though minor, held such menace. It was animalistic, predatory.

“Now that’s not true at all. I know another method to inspire your kiss. Shall I try that, instead?”

In case I had any doubt as to his intent, Colt’s hands shifted, cupping my bottom and squeezing. He raised one arrogant brow at my accompanying squeak.

Quickly, before his hands progressed, I turned my face to his and relaxed my mouth, preparing for him devour to it. Better my mouth than… other places. Even if those places were oddly screaming for attention. His.

Colt the Cruel. It was far crueler to make me participate in my own shaming at his hands.

His eyes lowered as he brought his lips to mine, tongue sweeping boldly inside my passive mouth. Colt’s fingers tightened on the flesh of my rear, but all I could do was squeak again, a sound swallowed by his kiss.

Why did shame taste so sweet?

Against my will, my tongue moved, and I couldn’t help but arch into his strong chest to relieve some of the ache in my breasts. I didn’t want Colt to feel what I’d done, but I knew he had when his hips jerked upwards in response. My reaction was to buck forward to escape the pressure of his rod against my rear -- I swore it was in avoidance -- but it had the unwanted effect of grinding my sex against the flat of his lower abdomen.

Colt’s moan told me that movement did not go unnoticed either.

We tumbled downward to sin in this manner, one reaction from either of us pushing the other into further depravity. The captain and I would descend until there was nowhere left to go.

But hell.

We were unwed. We weren’t even courting. We were nothing to each other but captor and captive. Should I return home despoiled, would Daniel even want me? And what became of a lady who could not marry? The options were limited.

I broke our kiss. “Please,” I pled, turning my head to the side. “Please. No more. It’s sinful.”

I felt Colt’s chest rise and fall against me as he tried to steady his heavy breathing.

“Alright,” he agreed, voice husky. “I’ll demand less sin from your mouth if you start working it toward salvation. Tell me the truth.”

I froze. “I…”

“Don’t you tire of this game, Charlotte?” he asked, weary.

There is no choice, I wanted to scream. Because there is no game. I looked about the waves as if they provided a way out.

“Shall we go farther away from shore?” Colt taunted, paddling us toward the mouth of the inlet. “Deeper? Where the sharks play?”

“No!” Damn him. I clung tighter around his neck.

“Tell me what happened that night,” he said softly, almost pleading. “If I’m to protect you from the men, you have to give me something. Redhands wants to whip the truth from your back. Murdering Maurice might not rile them, half the crew felt as you did. But if he lets them know about the Eye and they put your fate to vote? Give me something to help protect you, Charlotte.”

My stomach knotted at the mention of Redhands and the lash. “I can’t.”

Colt sighed heavily. “Alright, we have a little longer. Tell me something else, instead. Tell me the truth about what you want, Charlotte.”

I blinked. What could I possibly want except freedom?

“I want you to release me. Let me return to my home, unharmed.”

Unharmed any further, I corrected in my head. Although I wasn’t quite sure where to draw the line between Colt’s punishments and his pleasures.

His eyes narrowed. “The truth, Charlotte.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“For as long as you’ve hated me, for as much as you hate me still… you desire me.”

My cheeks flamed. “I – I…”

“Say it.” His order was accompanied by more squeezing of my rear. Every time he touched me there it brought forth memories of the harsher ways he touched my backside.

Turning my head to my shoulder, I whispered with defeat, “I desire you.”

“No. Look at me. I want to see your eyes when you speak.”

The mere command made me shudder. Colt’s wet fingertips found my chin, guiding it upwards. His black eyes were both impenetrable and piercing at the same time -- a shield and a sword.

Imagine such a man as a husband, I couldn’t help but think. To his lady, he’d be exactly that. A shield and a sword.

The thought made my heart beat a little faster.

I averted my eyes and Colt gently squeezed my chin -- a reminder to look up.

How could I not desire him? How could any woman resist? It wasn’t fair. The Lord shouldn’t make men this horrible, this handsome.

He’d take nothing from the words and yet he’d take everything. I’d rather have him molest me than make me say it.

Cocky, arrogant eyebrows raised impatiently over dark eyes. The sun set behind him, haloing him like a bloody god.

I licked my salty lips. “I desire you.”

The smug smile I knew would appear did not disappoint. His face lit with triumph.

“Was that so difficult?”

“Would it matter if it was?”

“Of course. I rather enjoy causing you difficulty.”

Huffing, I attempted to push myself off his body, but he didn’t relent his grip. I relaxed only slightly, expecting more molestation, but Colt unnerved me even more by not groping my breast or squeezing my rear. He stroked my cheekbones gently, almost reverently, staring at me with awe. Somehow, it was more intimate than if he’d slid his fingers into my open sex.

But if he had… he wouldn’t have met with any resistance.

#

Having recently won a battle and with the impending arrival at port, spirits were high on the ship that evening. News spread of my assistance with Colt in slaying my attacker, and the crew seemed friendlier toward me throughout the night. No one dared engage me in conversation, but I received many smiles or at least a tip of the head in acknowledgement of my service.

For the first time, I shared a table above deck -- with Miguel, Conks, Johnson, and Colt. I didn’t speak much but I couldn’t deny it felt nice to be included. The stars shone brightly, seeming to bless the meal. With the promise of replenishing our stores on the morn, Miguel used a bevy of citrus fruits to enhance the rum, and we all drank happily, though not too heartily, at the captain’s command. Save it for tomorrow night, boys, he advised.

When tables were cleared, someone broke out the fiddles and the men laughed and sang. I did not want to be enchanted, but such is the nature of enchantments that a victim is helpless to the spell.

Was it the rum?

Each song became a longing tune in my heart, subtle at first, then faster and faster, as if I swirled and danced under the magical incantation. I hadn’t moved from my seat on the bench, but I felt swept away into a realm so different from the one I’d known that I might as well have been in another world.

A dream world, with pirate captains so handsome, they make my heart ache just to look upon them. A world with captains who do things such wickedly delicious between my legs, it makes my body shake and spasm until I fall apart. A world with a man like Colt, whose gaze makes me feel like he can see into my soul.

Maybe it all was just a dream and if so, my actions had no consequence. It didn’t matter that I succumbed to the magical swirl.

Grasping my skirts, I stood --

-- and I sang.

I began a wistful, melancholic sea shanty, singing for these pirates as I had sung many nights for the men in our tavern.

Immediate silence fell. I nearly faltered, scared I’d horrified them, until I saw the looks on their faces. From the surprise, I guessed that I had never given them a song in my past. Gathering my courage, I continued, moving away from the bench and to the center of the tables.

I poured my soul into that song, closing my eyes at parts that meant the most to me.

When I opened them as I finished, I was again met with total silence.

It was Johnson who clapped first. Conks quickly followed, hooting and cheering. I broke into a relieved smile as the rest of the men joined in. Looking them over, I met Colt’s eyes.

He wasn’t clapping. He wasn’t even moving. He stared at me like he’d never seen me before. Whatever I’d done in the past, I was now sure I’d never sung for these men.

“Another!” someone shouted. “Give us another!”

Smiling tentatively, I ripped my gaze from Colt’s. The fiddle struck up a familiar tune and the rum warmed my blood. I sang again, and again, to the pleasure of the men. Sometimes they joined in a chorus, sometimes they simply stared. It was like my nights in the tavern, but much more enchanting beneath the shining stars and above the rollicking sea. A light breeze blew, fanning my hair, and I felt like I was the wind too, like my voice carried out and through the men, joining them.

We were connected in those moments. I felt a part of the crew.

I’ve never felt a part of anything before. Not like this.

Sadly, the connection began to fade as the spell ended with my singing. And yet, something had irrevocably changed. Something began to forge that wasn’t there before.

When I could sing no more, the men crowded me, congratulating my talent. Some clapped me on the back, as if I were one of them. From the corner of my eye, I noted that Colt hadn’t moved. He sat on the bench like a statue, staring at me with wide eyes.

I felt someone edge close to my body and turned to see Robert the Red amongst my crowd of raucous admirers. My stomach instantly tightened.

“My, my,” Redhands whispered in my ear, “look at what you can do, Charlotte. I can’t wait to hear how prettily you’ll sing under the lash.”

I felt Colt’s protective grip on my arm. God, he was fast.

“Lady Charlotte is tired from the gift of her entertainment this evening,” he announced. “She will retire to my cabin now.”

Colt’s proclamation was met with groans and protests, but he quickly escorted me away from Robert and below deck. Colt didn’t speak a word to me. His jaw remained clenched, his grip on my arm almost painful.

Slamming his cabin door behind us, Colt said, “You’re just full of secrets and surprises, aren’t you?” His lips were inches from mine as he demanded, “What other talents have you hidden from me all these years?”

Taken aback and a little fired up from the rum, I countered, “They are my talents to hide, captain. It is for me to decide what to share and with whom.”

“And what have you shared, Charlotte? Your lips? Your cunt? Answer me!” He squeezed my arm and wild, frantic eyes searched my face. I could smell the rum on his breath too. “You’ve always been a liar, are you a lying whore as well? Do you sing men to sleep at night, fuck them, steal their gold? What have you been doing these past two years?” he shouted, squeezing my arm harder. “I deserve an answer!”

I almost didn’t blame Colt for his anger and confusion, and that scared me more than anything.

“Stop acting as if you own me,” I shouted back. “I am not one of your crew you can command!”

“You are correct, Lady Charlotte,” he said, sneering. “You haven’t the privilege of my crew, you are my captive.”

“Then lock me away!” I cried, hating my helplessness. In an effort to seize back some control, I demanded it before he had the chance. “Put me back in the brig.”

I’ll escape tomorrow, somewhere in town. Forget my plans for justice. I can’t stay on this ship any longer.

“You think I’d shy away from it?” he scoffed. “You think you haven’t earned it?”

I lifted my chin and taunted, “Do it then. I do not wish to stay here tonight. Will you tie me to the bed to keep me? Tell me, if you’re incapable of being without me this night, which of us is truly the captive?”

Colt jerked his head back, eyes full of rage. He opened his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door interrupted us.

Until then, I hadn’t realized how loud we’d been shouting.

“Captain?” Conks’s voice rang out from the other side. “You alright in there?”

“No, we are not,” I proclaimed, lifting my head higher.

A pause, and then, Conks opened the door. I was sure Colt looked incredulous at his crewman’s audacity, but I didn’t spare the captain a look.

Stepping away boldly, I declared, “I would like to sleep in the brig this evening. I think I’ve earned a night of peace.”

“That is not for you to decide,” Colt growled, grabbing my arm and yanking me back to him.

My stomach sank. I had no way to fight the captain and I’d only hoped he wouldn’t protest too much in front of Conks. Clearly, I was mistaken.

“Technically, it’s for the men to decide,” Conks said, rubbing his gray beard. “Do you really want to put it to vote and chance them overruling you?”

Was it true? My chest filled with hope. Colt did say a ship is a democracy and a captain had less exclusive authority than I’d once believed.

“A few songs and she’s enchanted you?” Colt asked in disbelief. “Don’t forget who she is. What she’s capable of.”

“She was capable of saving your life,” Conks pointed out.

“Which only needed saving because I came to save hers!”

Conks shrugged. “That’s not the story you sold to the crew. Johnson emphasized her heroism. I don’t think the men will ever be voting to let her go, but they’d vote to give her a night’s rest at her request. So I ask again -- do you really want to give them the opportunity?”

I could practically feel Colt’s anger coming off his skin as he released my arm.

I didn’t look back as I brushed past Conks and said, “Good evening, captain.”

“Lock her up tight,” I heard Colt grit through clenched teeth.

You can’t lock me up forever, I thought. Tomorrow when we’re in town, I’ll escape.

I had to leave. I couldn’t let Redhands whip me upon departing Nassau and I couldn’t allow myself to succumb to Colt’s nightly… attentions. He’d already tarnished my body. How long until the devil corrupted my heart as well?