A Pirate's Bounty: A Devils of the Deep Novella (Ahoy!)

She rolled her eyes and turned away in a huff.

The door closed quietly as the last of them left and still she refused to look at the copper tub. As much as she’d decided she would put warm water into her own small water bowl, rebellion rose inside her. He didn’t like to be second to wash. Well then, those nefarious crewmen would have to refill the tub for him, because like it or not, she was getting in!

Before she could turn around, there came a loud splash. She gasped and whirled to see that the captain had already plunged into the steamy water, and she’d not even heard him come in. He must have slipped in before Churl finished closing the door.

Noir laid his head back and glanced over at her. “Join me?” he drawled. His lips were curved in that devilish teasing way he had and she realized the crew had only been toying with her.

“I would love to.”

She dropped the blanket and shucked off her shirt before sauntering toward the tub. She loved the way the captain’s eyes roved over her body as she made her way there. Made her feel like a goddess.

He held out a hand to her and she lifted a leg up and over the side. Holding on to her hips, he settled her between his thighs. His cock was hard and pressed against the small of her back, and a frisson of need wound its way from her breasts to her core.

“Have I told ye today what a vision ye make?” he murmured against her neck as he moved her hair out of his way.

“Only five or six times,” she laughed softly.

“Ye are…but as beautiful as ye are, my love, ye smell ungodly.”

She gasped at him and turned around to slap at him for saying such a thing but he only laughed and ducked. Only realizing too late, that he’d called her my love. Had he meant it?

“Ye are no flowerbed yourself, Captain.”

“Indeed, rutting as much as we have would certainly make one smell a bit wretched.”

They laughed and teased each other some more, comparing scents with animals, barns and other awful situations until tears filled their eyes.

“I’d have still fu—” he stopped himself short, “make love to ye if ye asked.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed as he tickled her ribs. “No need to sweeten your words for my womanly ears, Noir. I’ve enjoyed every minute of our rutting.”

“Now onto the bathing, so we might rut some more.”

He washed her back, her breasts, her most sensitive parts, stopping a moment to stroke her until she writhed against him. But he stopped just short of letting her climax. He continued down to her toes, massaging sweet-scented soap into the soles of her feet. He poured warm water over her hair and kneaded her scalp until she couldn’t keep her eyes open from the pleasure of it.

When he was finished, she turned around to kneel between his legs and rubbed soap into his chest, returning the intimate gesture of washing.

She lathered up his arms, marveling in the feel of the sinewy muscles beneath his flesh. She washed his face, his neck, his shoulders and down over his back. He too closed his eyes as she washed his hair and then she moved down his legs, to his feet, purposefully ignoring his hard cock, which peeked above the froth-covered water.

But she didn’t make him wait too long. Soon enough she stroked a soapy hand over his thick length, up and down, up and down until he grew hard as granite in her hand. Even sitting in the water, she grew slick with the need to slide him inside her, but she wasn’t sure how it would work. He took up nearly the whole tub. She couldn’t straddle his lap.

He must have seen her mind working, as his eyes darkened and he caught her mouth in a demanding kiss. His tongue delved deep, his hands gripped her hips, her breasts. He plucked at her nipples until she moaned into his mouth.

“Turn around,” he whispered.

She did as he asked, turning on her knees, her hands holding the rim of the rub. He knelt behind her, his thick arousal probing her entrance. A sudden thrill rushed through her. He pressed against her again. Desire sparked through her and every inch of her flesh tingled. She rolled her hips back, wanting him to push inside her. He thrust hard.

She gasped aloud as he worked her body. One hand around front, caressing her nipples then sliding lower to thumb over her nub.

Her body felt on fire as pleasure and excitement swirled up and down her limbs and to her center and back again. She moaned nearly constantly and Wraith grunted and moaned behind her.

He pumped faster, harder still, water sloshing over the sides and the sound of their wet bodies joining echoed in the room.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, her body had mercy on her. She climaxed with uncontrollable shudders, her womb contracting, body arching, head thrown back. A guttural, feral moan escaped her lips and along with her Wraith too shuddered, pulling out, his warm liquid finish dripping over the skin of her behind.

Neither one of them moved for several moments and then a warm wet cloth stroked across her buttocks as her pirate captain cleaned away their lovemaking.

When he was finished he pulled her from the tub and gently dried the water from her bottom to the top with a linen towel, his own body still covered in droplets that fell in rivulets over the curves and contours of his muscles. After toweling her hair, he gazed into her eyes and stroked her cheek. A tiny smile curved his lips.

“Thank ye, leannan,” he whispered and brushed a kiss on her lips.

A booming sounded in the distance and the romantic connection was lost. Both whipped their heads toward the porthole and Wraith made it to the wall in two strides to peer out.

“What is it?” Faryn came up beside him but couldn’t see past his broad shoulders.

“Ship.” His voice held no emotion but the clenching of his jaw gave way that it affected him.

“Friend or foe?” she asked, hoping against all hope it was friendly.

“My friends dinna shoot cannons at me, lass.” He chuckled bitterly. “That is unless I deserve it, and I assure ye, I have not vexed any of my friends of late.”

She nodded, swallowed hard, remained silent.

Shouts from above and the pounding of running feet echoed in the captain’s quarters.

A crewman burst through the door and Faryn clutched her towel tightly to her body.

“Cap’n! Pardon me, my lady,” he bowed, but then returned his attention to Wraith. “The Avenger’s under attack!”

Beside her, she sensed rather than saw every muscle in Wraith’s body tighten. Her heart constricted and her stomach plummeted.

Today she would die.





Chapter Eight





“Stay here,” Wraith ordered.

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