Colin could think of much worse things to be than hers. As he gazed into those impossibly azure eyes, he forgot himself. He forgot his brave shipmates. He forgot Ward and Miss Fitzgerald, his uncle, his title, his very name…
Then Pemberly, curse the inconvenient creature, reminded him of everything.
“Awk! Landlubber! Awk!”
Colin sighed. His shipmates were depending on him to defeat this nefarious ninja. He had a duty. The winsome warrior was his enemy.
But—though he was a pirate, he was still a gentleman. Could he harm a woman?
Aha! Perhaps he wouldn’t need to…
“Um, hello?” The angelic Amazon, once again in possession of her katana, poked him lightly in the stomach. “I said, you will never win, you are mine. Have you nothing to say, pirate?”
Adopting his best Smooth Pirate voice, Colin replied, “Pardon me, miss, but you appear to have me at a disadvantage.”
“Well, yes, of course I do—you’re on your back with your hands tied-- wait. What’s wrong with your voice?”
“Your voice. It sounds like you might have a touch of catarrh.” Suddenly her eyes widened. “Or—is it consumption? Dear Goddess, is this a plague ship?”
“What?” Colin shrieked. He quickly cleared his throat and said, in a voice not quite as low as the Smooth Pirate tone, “I mean—what? No, no, there’s no plague here, I just meant--”
At that moment the door of the cabin flew open, and a huge ninja strode in. Colin was pretty sure this ninja was a man, for if it was a woman, she was the largest he’d ever seen and all her lumps were in the wrong places.
“Captain Quinn?” said a deep male voice. “The crew of this ship have been disarmed and the slaves are safely aboard Mizigumo.” He gazed down at Colin with a sneer. “The pirates have been disarmed as well.”
Upon hearing that his shipmates had been defeated, Colin knew it was up to him to save the Motley Crew. He had to act now, while the stunning star-thrower had her back turned.
He took a deep breath, flexed his back, and then with all his might launched himself to his feet. It was a dashing maneuver, one he wished Captain Keelhaul could have witnessed. Alas, his momentum carried him too far and he crashed into the back of his curvaceous captor. She crumpled beneath his weight. Just as his body registered the thrill of that fair form pressed once more against him, the intruder plucked him up and held him aloft, his feet dangling two feet above the cabin floor.
Colin could only stare at the massive fist coming straight for his nose, and he gritted his teeth lest he emit a most unpiratical whimper.
“Not his face!” shouted the shapely shinobi.
“What?” said Colin and the huge ninja at the same time.
“I, um, I mean—if you punch him the face, Môri, you might break his jaw, and-- and then I wouldn’t be able to question him.” She scrambled to her feet, brushing her spun gold hair back from her face. “Yes, that’s it. I need to question him.”
Môri lowered his fist, but not Colin. He frowned. “But why, Captain? All the slaves are on the Mizigumo. We’re ready to go—I’m certain the pirate captain won’t be slaving again anytime soon.”
“Excuse me,” Colin interrupted, “but what’s all this about slaves?”
“Quiet, pirate,” sneered Môri. “Or it’s the plank for you.”
“Awk! Don’t drown the Duke! Not another Duke!” squawked Pemberly.
“Quiet, all of you!” roared the Captain. “Môri, take this pirate up on deck. And you! Parrot!”
She glared at Pemberly.
“Awk! Yes ma’am?”
“Follow me and keep a civil tongue in your head!”
“Awk! Who’s a pretty ninja? Pretty ninja! Awk!”
She led them out of the cabin and up the stairs to the foredeck, Colin trying desperately to remain on his feet as Môri dragged him along.
The entire crew of Motley Crew was assembled and surrounded by ninjas. Strangely enough, none of the pirates were bound like Colin was.
“Captain,” said a slender masked ninja, “We’re ready to be underway.”
“Very well,” the pulchritudinous pirate defeater answered. “Everyone back to Mizigumo.” She marched up to Captain Keelhaul and planted her hands on her hips. “And Captain?”
Keelhaul returned her gaze with wary respect. “Yes, Captain?”
“You are henceforth retired from slave trading. Pirate all you like, but if I learn that you have sacrificed one more human to that demonic trade, I will take your ship and your lives.”
Colin gaped at the woman. “Slave trading?”
“Ay, Captain,” Keelhaul said.
To Colin’s immense relief (and also, shockingly, to his profound regret), Môri began to untie the ropes binding his hands.
The fetching fighter put a hand out to stop him. “No, Môri. Leave him tied up. He’s coming with us.”
“What?” said Colin and Môri once again simultaneously.
“But, Captain, we don’t take prisoners,” Môri objected.
“Well, we do now!” snapped the comely captain.
“But where will we keep him? We don’t even have shackles.”
“We’ll get shackles when we stop in Port Royale. And until then, he’ll stay in my cabin.”
“Your cab-- but, Captain, that’s…that’s just…weird.”
“Are you questioning my order, ninja?”
“No, ma’am, I just--”
“I say!” Colin finally blurted in annoyance. “If you’re letting Motley Crew go, you have to release me, too! I’m a member of their crew—they need me!”
All eyes turned to Captain Keelhaul, who rubbed the back of his neck and stared rather intently at his peg leg.
“Ah, well, see now…it’s like this, lad,” the captain sighed, finally meeting Colin’s hopeful gaze. “You’re a fine lad, truly you are, but you just ain’t no sailor.”
Crestfallen, Colin could only stare.
“And furthermore, lad, you’re not all that bright.”
“See here now!” Colin huffed, gravely offended. “There’s no call to--”
“Lad, we’ve been hauling thirty-five slaves in the hold of that ship ever since you came aboard! They’re all chained up, moanin’ and pleadin’ for their lives, and you think they’re passengers sailing economy class to the Caribbean!!”
“But that’s what you said they were,” Colin protested. “And besides, slave trading is against the law!”
“Of course it is, ya daft toff!” Keelhaul shouted. “And we’re pirates! Ma’am,” he continued, turning back to the alluring agent of Colin’s captivity, “I’d be much obliged if you took him off our hands, but I’d appreciate your not harmin’ the lad. He’s a good sort.”
The alluring abolitionist nodded curtly. “You have my word. Everybody, back to Mizigumo! Môri, as soon as we’re back on board, take the prisoner to my cabin.”
Stunned, outraged and thoroughly confused, Colin was hauled onto the deck of the Mizigumo, dragged down below, and unceremoniously dumped in the saucy siren’s quarters, where he could do naught but await fate.
“Where do you want the prisoner, Captain?”
Quinn looked about her small, Spartan cabin, her mind racing. What in the name of O-Wata-Tsumi was she doing? They didn’t take prisoners. They didn’t even have a pair of shackles on board! Although there was that very interesting shop on Isle de la Tortue…
She glanced up at the ceiling.
“Get me some more rope.”
As Môri hastened to obey his captain’s order, ninja and pirate regarded each other in silence. He didn’t looked scared, exactly, just…apprehensive. And maybe a wee bit intrigued.
She didn’t try to hide her smile of satisfaction. She’d not had any feverish simian shagging in weeks. They’d been at sea for an unusually long stretch, and she would never dally with her own crew. The last time she’d slaked her lust was in New Orleans, with Jacques, the saucy bartender at Heyer Ground.
Captain Quinn Fitzgerald took her pleasure as she found it. A citizen of the seas, she couldn’t abide the feel of solid ground beneath her feet for more than a few weeks at a time. Many men had tried to tame her, and all had regretted it.
But she’d never done anything like this before. Taking a sweet morsel to go? It was absurd.
There was just something about this square-jawed stranger with his sexy dark stubble and big brown eyes. Hard muscle rippled beneath his white pirate’s shirt, and that posterior—by the Goddess, you could bound a piece of eight off that thing!
The captive was silent until Môri returned with the rope. As Quinn tossed one end of it up and over a rafter, he finally spoke.
“Excuse me, but what exactly are you--”
“Shh.” She laid a finger against his firm, wide mouth. “Not quite yet, my dear. I’ll tell you when I want you to make noise.”
He started to protest, but she jerked his hands above his head and looped the rope through it. A second later the buccaneer was standing with arms upraised, utterly helpless and vulnerable to her every naughty whim.
Quinn had a lot of naughty whims.
She began to pace in a circle around the strapping stallion, idly tapping her katana on the floor as she walked. He turned his head to follow her movements, his eyes wide.
“Now, let’s see…what shall we dispense with first?” she murmured. “The shirt? The breeches? No, wait—I know. The bandana. Let’s see those raven locks.”
With a barely perceptible flick of her wrist, the bandana split in twain and drifted to the floor. Long hair, glossy and jet black, tumbled to his shoulders. She could hardly wait to run her fingers through those--
She spun around to see Môri standing behind her, one hand clapped firmly over his eyes. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but may I be excused? Please?”
“Of course, Môri. And tell Hônjo that he has the ship—I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the evening.”
“Aye, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”
With his hand still pressed firmly over his eyes, and his other arm stretched out straight in front of him, he fumbled his way out of the room, closing the door behind him.
She turned back to her prisoner with a smile.
“Where were we? Oh yes, the next item of clothing.”
“I don’t really--”
“You’re not going to need that shirt, so we’ll just--” Snick! Snick! Another flash of her blade and strips of white cotton fell to the floor, revealing powerful shoulders and a broad chest with a thick dark patch of hair.
She couldn’t resist. She had to run a finger across that flat, ridged stomach, following the downy trail to…
She was most gratified to hear the sudden intake of breath as her fingers trailed over his stomach and across those sharp muscles (Quinn didn’t know what they were called, but the muscles shapely men had, the ones on both sides of the stomach, right above the hips? The ones that, if the man were in phenomenal shape, looked like you could cut your finger—or tongue—on them? Those. She loved those, and he had them.)
“Madam,” he panted, and now his face had turned bright red and she thought he sounded as if he might be having trouble breathing, “I don’t know what you want from me, but--”
“Oh, I think you know,” she purred.
“No, I really don’t, and I was simply wondering if--”
Snick! Snick! Snick! Pieces of breeches joined their fellow scraps on the floor. It was Quinn’s turn to suck in her breath at the site of the pirate’s perfect physique. He stood revealed in all his exquisite naked glory, from the glossy riot of his ebony hair to his hard stomach and his long, powerful thighs. And as for his long, powerful…
The beautiful beefcake twisted around and around, trying to hide his jewels from her gaze. He crossed one leg over the other, but a manhood of such proportion was not so easily hidden.
She laughed with delight. “What? Are you embarrassed, my pet?”
“Well, I should say so! You just cut my bloody knickers off!”
She couldn’t help herself. The sight of those firm, juicy buttocks flexing as he struggled drove her wild. On impulse, she gave those sweet cheeks a good smack with the flat of her katana.
“WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT?”
Quinn froze, nonplussed. "Excuse me?"
“Why are you spanking me? I'm not a schoolboy!”
“I mean, Headmaster Sidebottom never made me take off ALL my clothes!”
“So...you don't like this?”
He looked taken aback for a moment. Seeming to forget his embarrassment as he thought about it, he said slowly, “Well, I don’t know…it's not so much that I don't like it, it's just...Sidebottom had a much stronger arm.”
She put a hand on her hip as she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh really?” Taking a step back, she put all her ninja strength into it as she laid another smack across those smooth, firm cheeks.
“OH!” he exclaimed.
Panting, he continued, "Oh. Oh, I say...this is embarrassing. I-- um, this has never happened before."
She stepped in front of him to see him gazing in dismay at his mighty jolly roger. It was pointing straight at her, as if to say, “Hullo! Would you like to play a game?”
A slow smile spread across her face.
“Well, um, I mean, this--” he nodded at his tumescent member “--has happened many times, of course. Just, not-- not when Sidebottom spanked me, do y’see?”
“Oh yes, I see. But do you like it?”
“Er, I—I-- I—
“Well?”He swallowed hard, his eyes wide with surprise. "Why, yes. Yes, I rather think I do."
To be continued...
A Word to you, Our Dear and Gentle Readers: If you enjoyed this small offering, please do us the honor of returning to grace our humble blog with your presence one week hence, when we shall be delighted to bring to you the next installment of our little saga, which is to be entitled, Chapter Four: The Ninja, The Pirate, her Katana, and His...Urges?
And please partake of our Love’s Savage Contest. Leave a comment here or go to our Facebook page (link in the column on the right) and quote your favorite line from this week’s episode to be entered in a monthly drawing for a giftcard at the bookstore of your choice and a grand finale drawing for a signed e-reader cover.
The Naughty Nine
Click here to read Chapter Three
Click here to read Chapter Five
Click here to read from the beginning