Please note: there have been some artistic licence taken with the conversations between Carly and Miriam to ease the flow of the story.
Miriam screamed as the massive monster lifted her sister off the ground and swung her between the seesawing boats on a long rope. She fought free of the hands that held as she tried to get to Carly. She had barely taken two steps before a large palm wrapped around her upper arm and spun her about. The breath shuddered from her lungs as she came up hard against a warm, solid chest. She clutched at the soft cotton of his shirt for balance, her gaze fixed on the vee of golden skin before her as the world spun dizzily.
Slowly she tipped her head back, her long silvery hair tumbling over the arm anchoring her against him. Dancing green eyes met her wide, frightened blue ones. She drew in sharp breath at the sight of the wickedly handsome pirate, the scent of salt and male teasing her nostrils.
This couldn't be happening. She was the daughter of a Lord, and affianced to a Duke. How was it that only yesterday she sailed to meet her fiancé, and now found herself the prisoner of this heathen pirate who held her so...so intimately? A blush warmed her cheeks as she tugged on the fingers curled just below her breast.
As her lips parted to demand he let her go, he lifted her in his arms. He held her against him as they swung through the air, his thighs tangling with hers. Miriam screamed as water churned below them, clutching at the devil that held her. The thick, corded rope creaked above their heads; the wind rushed through her hair, whipping it across their faces.
Her whole body slumped against his when again she felt the firmness of the deck beneath her slippered feet. Heights terrified her, and she didn't think she could have let go of him right then even if she wanted to. He chuckled against her ear, and she realised she was praying beneath her breath. She would have smacked him if she wasn't holding on to him so tightly.
Without warning he scooped her up in his arms and carried her below deck. She pressed her face against his chest as men leered at her and whistled, fear and something else quivering inside of her. She had never known what it was like to be held by a man. No man had dared kiss her, for fear of her father. And even had she wanted one to, her mother had instilled in her the ways of a Lady. A Lady wasn't supposed to get her skirts dirty, was to smile prettily and sit quietly while the men talked. And most of all, a Lady was not to be familiar with a man that was not her husband!
He strode into a cabin and kicked the door shut behind him. He slid her to her feet, his muscular arm locked around her waist crushing her breasts against him. She knew he was gazing down at her, and blushed, her eyes fixed on the top button of his shirt. As the silence stretched she wondered what he was thinking. She was not as pretty as Carly, who was tiny and curvy with long curly hair and full, luscious breasts. Miriam was taller than most women, her legs long and slender, yet still she barely reached this pirate's chin. She was willowy and unfashionable, her breasts mere small handfuls. Her tiny waist was her one saving grace, her mother often told her. Her hair was a silvery blonde and completely straight. Her eyes, sky blue and placid, were passably pretty. Her lips were too lush, her mother complained, and too pink, lending her the look of a tart.
The pirate gently tucked a silver strand behind her ear, and a small shiver raced through her. She knew she shouldn't stand pressed up against him like this so that she could feel every breath he drew into his lungs, but her wobbly legs refused to move. Her nipples felt tight where they rubbed against the stiff tulle of her gown.
Would he kiss her? Miriam lowered her lashes, for fear of what her eyes would reveal. She wanted to be kissed, just once, before she was delivered to her elderly fiancé.
"Look at me," he commanded, his fingers tangling in the soft curls at her nape. Her lashes flickered, then lifted. The breath caught in her lungs at the intensity of those intelligent green eyes. Her lips parted on a soundless sigh, and his head dipped. Her lips trembled as his brushed against hers, light as a butterfly's wings. Blood pounded dizzily through her as he pressed light kisses over and over against her lips, like a bee sipping on honeyed wine.
"I never knew," she murmured breathlessly, "what it was like to kiss a man." Her fingers clutched at his magenta cloak as a soft sigh escaped her. He stilled against her, and she realised to her utter humiliation that she must have spoken aloud. How he must think her a ninny. He probably kissed a dozen women a day!
"Later, my innocent captive, I will show you how a man really kisses a woman. For now I must return to the deck and see to the cargo."
He left her, and she heard the scrape of the key in the lock and soft footsteps fade. What did he mean? Was that not a kiss? She pressed her hand against her tingling lips as she gazed about her with wide eyes. He had brought her to a small cabin, with a wide bed suspended to the wall by leather straps that could be pushed up to create more room. One side of the cabin was lined with cupboards with different sized drawers, all with tiny polished brass knobs. Beneath a long narrow table rested a wide metal tub, and her breathing hitched as she imagined herself in it, his eyes watching her as she ran the soapy cloth down her bare arms.
A huff escaped her, no doubt it was his heathen piratical influence that created such wicked thoughts. Stomping over to the bed, she then sat down primly, smoothing her skirts and clasping her hands neatly in her lap. She was a Lady, not a hussy. If he thought to seduce her into kissing him again, he would have to think again. Yet thoughts of his kiss haunted her, and that unfamiliar churning sensation in her belly returned. The devil takes him!
~*~
Miriam wiggled beneath the sheets, warm and safe. Blinking against the morning light filtering through the trio of portholes lining the adjoining wall, she arched, stretching her slender limbs.
She frowned sleepily when she realised a tanned muscular arm pillowed her head, and another lay heavily over her waist, fingers splayed across her belly. Her pulse skittered in alarm as the she realised the warmth pressed along her back owed not to a blanket, but a man!
Dear God, what would her mother say if she saw her now? She attempted to scramble up, but found herself pressed flat on her back, an amused face gazing down at her from where it rested propped on his hand.
"W-what do you think you are doing, sir?" she demanded breathily, her belly clenching under the caress of his fingers.
"I thought perhaps you would like me to show you how a man kisses a woman. Properly."
"Oh," she murmured, mulling over the idea. Would it be so wicked? Surely no-one would find out? "Perhaps quickly," she replied, then quickly added "but only if you promise not to tell my fiancé."
His eyes narrowed. "I promise," he said softly. She swallowed hard. What would her mother say if she discovered Miriam had let a wicked pirate kiss her?
But any thoughts quickly flew from her mind as his lips settled over hers. They were warm as they moved over hers in coaxing kisses. She slowly relaxed, her lips softening, her fingers curling around his upper arm.
His mouth slanted over hers, more demandingly. She gasped when his tongue flicked against her lips, only to slide deeper into her mouth. Her toes curled as his tongue touched hers, her fingers tightening on his arm.
Her breasts rose and fell as the kiss deepened, turning into something drastically different. Fire licked through her, and her thighs scissoring restlessly among the sheets.
She moaned as he sucked lightly on her tongue, feeling an answering throb between her thighs. He shifted, pressing against her thigh as one of his wedged itself between hers. His hand slid up over her belly to rest just below the swell of her breast.
She tore her mouth from his, gazing up at him dazedly. "Do Lady's really kiss like this?"
He nodded, a tiny smile curving his lips. "Mmm, although, if you want to do it properly, the way Lady's do..."
"What do you mean?" she demanded breathlessly when his words trailed off.
His fingers tugged at the ribbons of her bodice, and it was only then that she realised all that she wore was her frilly white chemise. Her hand pressed against his, preventing him from unlacing her further as she gazed up at him, wide-eyed. Her swift inspection of him revealed he wore breeches and nothing else. Her stomach clenched at the sight of all that golden male skin with its sprinkling of black hair.
"To do this properly, it is important that I see your breasts."
"W-why?" she demanded suspiciously, her eyes lifting from the expanse of his chest to search his handsome face.
"To experience the full pleasure of a kiss. That is what you wish me to show you, is it not, before I deliver you to your fiancé?"
She chewed on her lip. Surely feeling this good couldn't be a wrong? If it were a sin, some part of her would surely recognise that, and stop him immediately? Some of her friends had admitted to kissing boys on terraces at balls when their chaperones were not looking, and nothing bad had happened to them. She nodded jerkily, removing her hand from where it covered his much larger one.
She unknowingly held her breath as he drew the ribbons through the tiny embroidered holes, her face watching his. She squeezed her eyes shut when he peeled the thin silk cloth apart, revealing the tiny thrust of her breasts with their taut rose nipples to the intensity of his gaze.
"You are beautiful," he whispered. "So pale and perfect, like a velvety cream rose bud plucked from an English garden."
Her breathe shuddered from her lungs as his hands lightly traced her breasts, caressing the sensitive skin. Her lips parted instinctively beneath his as they closed over hers.
Quivers raced down between her thighs as his fingers toyed with her breasts, tugging and pinching their rosy tips. She arched against him, pressing against his hands as she tentatively kissed him back.
He groaned against her mouth, his hand sliding down over her hip and thigh. She barely registered the feel of cool air against her heated flesh as he drew up her chemise. It was only as his fingers massaged the soft flesh of her inner thigh that she stilled, her eyes widening.
