Rescued by the Buccaneer (6 page)

With two fingers he traced her pussy lips, then dipped inside her. He heard Frederica release a happy little sigh and felt her hands in his hair. He considered this to be an encouraging sign and toyed with the curls above her mons. Finding her inner lips with his tongue, he sucked them into his mouth, lolling his tongue round her tender flesh, applying pressure to increase her pleasure. With a flat tongue he lapped at the bundle of tiny nerves at her apex, causing her to moan in ecstasy.

He worked her body until he could feel it bracing for a climax, then licked the entire length of her sex, tasting her copious juices. When he sensed she was on the brink, he formed a point with the tip of his tongue and swirling tiny circles across her clit.

Her body began to tremble with her climax, and she tugged at his locks, her strangled cry muffled by the sound of the ship’s sails whipping above them. He held onto her legs and proceeded to lap up the rest of her lusty juices. He caressed her legs from her core all the way to her shoes, leaving passion marks as he went.

The night air a welcome shot in the face after he retreated from the steamy, yet stifling weight of all those petticoats. Gaston closed his eyes and took a gulp of air before rising to his feet.

It was difficult to be certain in the dim light, but he’d swear she was blushing. He kissed her again, this time with her sex on his breath. She yielded to him immediately and answered the exploration of his tongue with an ardor of her own. Oh, how he’d loved bringing her pleasure like that.

“You’re a woman who needs fucking, Frederica,” he growled in her ear.

“I—I—you’re making me quite uncomfortable,” she said, stepping back to adjust her dress.

He laughed. “You weren’t uncomfortable a moment ago.”

She smoothed her hair. “I don’t understand you, Monsieur Galette. What exactly do you want from me?”

“Your help,” he smiled. Apparently she didn’t want to discuss what had just transpired between them. He smiled to himself, knowing he’d confused her with his voracious attentions. Getting down to business, he shared his plan with her. The next evening, while Humphrey slept, she would find his keys, then sneak them out to him. He thought he knew where Humphrey stored the weapons, and he’d take what he needed and they would return the keys while the captain slept, leaving him unaware his newest crewmember was armed.

He took Frederica’s hand, intending a handshake, but he lifted it to his mouth and kissed it instead. “To a change in our fortunes, my dear.”

The moonbeams turned her eyes shimmering silver, and gazing into them, he wondered if he could trust her.

* * *

When Humphrey saw Frederica the next morning, he screwed his eyes together in a snit. “What ‘ave ye done to yourself, girl? Ye look mighty peculiar.” He pulled on his grimy beard. “Can’t set me finger on it.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she responded and smiled sweetly.

“Hmmph,” he grumbled, then told her to clean the glass windows of the small cabin that imprisoned her and slammed the door closed. “I’ll think of it.”

Her hand flew to her ear. Just after the piercing it had throbbed, but this morning it was merely sore to the touch. She was optimistic it would aid her with her stomach troubles, but now realized it was the earring that had made Humphrey suspicious. Though he might not recognize why she seemed “different”—after all, men rarely noticed such details about a woman’s appearance—he would eventually determine it to be the earbob, and that would raise a number of questions she didn’t care to answer.

If he found out she’d been cavorting with Galette, there’d be hell to pay.

The magnetic Gaston Galette. Her thoughts went back to the previous evening. Oh, how he’d made her quiver and squirm—and with his mouth! The memory sent a tingle of lust to all her most private parts. Her nipples hardened as if he were magically playing with them from another room, and her cunt burned with the need to feel his velvet tongue licking her into delirium.

Setting her lust aside, she had to admit the man must be half mad to believe he could just come aboard the
Neptune’s Damnation
and take command. Stealing the keys for him would most likely turn out to be a fool’s errand, but on the off chance that he won over the crew and successfully usurped Humphrey, she wanted to be on the right side of things. She was too free-spirited to be kept in this floating cage for much longer.

That evening, the door opened with a creak. She feigned sleep as Humphrey stumbled around in the waning light of dusk. From across the room, the smell of grog wafted under her nostrils, telling her he’d drunk more than his fill. If so, he’d sleep like a child. The thought boosted her spirits.

Mumbling something unintelligible, Humphrey collapsed onto his bed fully clothed. Moments later, he turned on his side and began to snore, the sound of his labored breathing, disjointed by slurps and snores, making her aware of her own breathing—steady yet shallow. She waited for what seemed like a lifetime before she found the courage to stand up.

With every movement she kept her eyes on his massive form, constantly afraid he’d awaken, her nerves feeling as though they were on the outside of her skin and his earlier suspicion of her intensifying her dread. Slowly, she felt her way towards him. Since he’d fallen asleep with his clothes on, she fretted she’d have to search his person for the keys. Perhaps he kept them somewhere else.

Feeling around in the dark, she checked the tabletop, the nook above the door, and under the bed. She truly didn’t expect them to be under the bed, but she wanted to find them anywhere other than in the pockets of the jacket he currently wore.

She crept towards the sleeping captain and tripped on something. She clutched her chest as she almost fell onto him. Heart racing, she bent down to find what she stumbled over. Running her fingers over the object, she determined they were the captain’s boots. Grimacing, she stuck a hand into the foul smelling footwear and something cold and metallic bumped her fingertips. With a sigh of relief, she slowly retrieved the ring of keys from the stinky boot. Gripping them tightly in her hand so they wouldn’t jingle, she slipped silently out the door and onto the deck to find Galette.

One step closer to freedom.

Chapter Seven

The following morning, Gaston was enjoying the balmy weather and jawing with some of the deck hands when he glanced up and sensed trouble. Tiny, flanked by two men, strode towards him at a determined pace.

“This doesn’t look good,” Gaston muttered.

“You there, Galette, is it?” Tiny bore down on him.

“Why yes, it is,” he answered politely.

Tiny grabbed him by one arm while one of his henchmen held him by his other one. “Cap’n wants to see you.”

The third man wrestled Gaston’s hands behind his back.

Gaston decided it was best to cooperate. “Whatever can be the problem, gentlemen?”

Tiny tightened his grip and growled in his ear, “Ye can ask the cap’n about that, mate.”

The other two men burst into laughter. “You’re in for it,” one of them guffawed.

Sandwiching Gaston between them, the men paraded him across the deck. Most of the crew stopped what they were doing and stared. It was clear they were eager for some action to begin. The ship’s floorboards squeaked, signaling the arrival of the heavy-set captain.

Humphrey grasped the lapels of his jacket and scowled at his latest prisoner. “What do ye have to say for yerself, Galette?”

Gaston shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not sure I understand the nature of the problem.”

Humphrey pulled his ring of keys out of his pocket. “How’s about you stealing these, you rapscallion.” He nodded to Tiny, who produced Gaston’s pistol from his waistband and handed it to Humphrey. “How did this get into your bunk, I might ask?”

The previous night, Gaston had commandeered the keys from Frederica, opened the closet where the weapons were held, and retrieved his. He’d given the keys back to Frederica and hidden his sword and revolver behind a trunk in his quarters. It had all gone smoothly, no hitches. Yet somehow his plot had been foiled, and he wondered by whom.

He heard the swishing of her skirts behind the captain. So Humphrey had allowed Frederica to come on deck to watch his downfall.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” He stalled for time while he tried to piece together exactly what had gone wrong.

Humphrey pulled Gaston’s cutlass from a scabbard at his waist. In a swift movement for a man his size, he stabbed the air between them, the blade stopping on Gaston’s left cheek, just under his bad eye.

Slowly, he carved something into Gaston’s skin. Gaston remained stoic, ignoring the sting of his cheek.

“What do I mean?” the captain repeated Gaston’s words. “You imbecile. How did you get back your weapons?” He threw the sword to the ground angrily. Everyone on the ship was silent, the sound of the cutlass clattering onto the deck reverberating throughout the ship.

Gaston shrugged again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw drops of blood on his shirt. His plan was sunk.

Humphrey stepped aside and pushed Frederica forward. “
She
helped you, didn’t she?”

Frederica
must
have informed on him. A knot formed in his gut. He’d trusted her, and she’d betrayed him. That witch with those piercing devil eyes. Inside, his blood simmered, but he showed no outward signs of distress. In his line of work, once men observed you had a weakness—you were done for.

When Gaston didn’t answer, Humphrey persisted, “What were ye after anyways Galette?”

Confused, Gaston was unsure how to answer. “I intended to take over your ship, and she wasn’t involved. I acted alone.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wondered why he said them. It was clear that she’d gotten them caught. Why try to save her from trouble?

“Mutinous bastard are ye?” Humphrey scoffed, then jerked his head in Frederica’s direction. “She’s been nothing but trouble since the day she came aboard. Seize her!” Humphrey ordered his men.

“Leave the girl alone!” Gaston shouted.

“The girl!” Humphrey mocked him. “What about the girl? She’s no business of yours.” He spit a plug of tobacco on the ground.

“Aye, Cap’n. That may be, but apparently she’s no business of yours either.” His eyes swept over the crew, garnering their attention. “Seems you’ve not been bedding the lady.”

Tiny seized Gaston from behind and pressed the blade of a curved knife to the base of his throat, and a cry of surprise arose from the crowd of men watching the spectacle.

Humphrey blustered, “What’s this nonsense ye be rantin’, Galette?”

“Your girl there.” Gaston nodded at Frederica. “Your crew thinks you’ve been givin’ her the whatfore. But to hear her tell it, ye only slap her around a bit.” He snickered, ignoring the knife at his throat.

Frederica wobbled. It appeared she might faint, but no one came to her aid. The captain glared at her as if she were a monster with seven heads.

The crew erupted in shouts of disbelief and confusion at Gaston’s assertion. Humphrey’s face turned scarlet, and he looked as though he might explode.

“Seize her, I told ye!” Humphrey ordered his crew. Two men grabbed Frederica’s arms and held her up. She stared directly at Gaston, the blue of her eyes deepening as she flashed them in anger.

The captain stood in front of Frederica and asked in a raised voice, “Is this true, lass? Ye’ve been telling tales ‘bout your ole cap’n?”

“No sir! I would never do that!” Frederica protested.

“Never, eh? I should’ve never sent you down to conspire with that devil of a man. Me own mistake.” He nodded thoughtfully. He then snatched her up by her hair. “But you should never have betrayed me, you miserable wench! Me who saved ye. I could have let you die on that ship. Seein’ how ye repays me, I should have sent you to Davy Jones’ locker with the rest of ‘em.”

Her eyes rounded in fear.

“Take these mutinous traitors to the brig!” Humphrey bellowed.

* * *

Tiny and his sidekicks tossed Gaston and Frederica in a damp, dark cell below deck. Then they locked the small cage and left them alone.

“How dare you!” Frederica glared at Gaston.

“Excuse me?” He glared back and dabbed at his bleeding cheek with the hem of his shirt. “Me? I believe
you
are the one who has gotten us into this mess.”

“Me? I’ve done no such thing. You’re the one spouting off to everyone about Humphrey not bedding me. You’re the reason I’m in here, you rapscallion!” Fear and anger bubbled over and she launched herself at him, beating her fists against his chest. “This is all your fault!”

Grabbing her wrists, he stopped her blows and pulled her to him. “It is not! He suspected you from the beginning!”

“He did not. He was testing you, don’t you see?”

Gaston sat on a crate in the corner and twisted her body over his knee.

“Stop! What are you doing?” she shrieked.

He pulled up her skirts. “Punishing you.”

“For what?” She struggled under his grip, but he was stronger than she was, and her efforts did little good.

“For being such an insolent brat.”

“Don’t you dare!” she squealed, kicking her legs. “Unhand me this instant!”

He laughed. “Why? What will you do?”

“I hate you!”

“Clearly. Why else would you rat me out to your captor?” He threw her skirts and petticoats up over her torso and ran his hands from her thighs up to her naked bottom.

“I did no such thing.” She felt her face redden as she realized he must be gazing upon her bare bum.

“Frederica, I must say, you have a lovely derriere.” He sounded amused.

“Stop this impertinence at once! Turn me loose, you scoundrel!” She attempted to get up, but he held her down. The dank, musty odor of the cell accosted her nostrils.

“I shall do no such thing, at least not until you’ve been properly reprimanded for your betrayal.”

She exhaled loudly. “I did nothing, I tell you! Now let me go, you letch!” She wriggled again, this time with less gusto.