When the pirate carried her off, she didn’t put up a fight. She went willingly, kissing his neck, his ear, thanking him for rescuing her from the drudgery of plantation life. She was Olivia Cunard, the governor’s daughter thrown unceremoniously over the pirate’s shoulder. He was Rayf van Renne, the most notorious pirate of the Spanish Main. After claiming his prize raiding the island, Rayf stole her away to his waiting ship, the
Lightning’s Wake
. The couple laughed all the way to the docks up, up the gang plank, and into his cabin.
“Graves!” Rayf called to his first mate, still holding the giggling girl over his shoulders like a sack of flour. “Cast off as soon as the crew is aboard!”
Rayf kicked the door to his cabin open and rushed inside with his bounty. He placed her on her feet and shut the door. She looked over Rayf wantonly, pursing her lips together. Olivia gaped at Rayf’s young, virile body, his muscles rippling under a loose shirt and tight trousers. At his side were a gleaming rapier, a pistol, and a long dagger. She laughed at her fool father who thought he could possibly keep the young ones apart.
The cabin was small and cozy, and smelled of fresh sea air. She filled her nostrils with the intoxicating aroma. She breathed so deeply that she did not hear the click of a lock, but came out of her repose as Rayf turned. She stepped back as she noticed a wanton gleam in his dark eyes. Olivia stumbled on the bunk behind her and landed on the mattress. Rayf’s visage grew dark as his powerful hands slowly unbuckled his weapon belt while stepping toward the beautiful young woman. A wave of fear crept over Olivia like a sudden chill. Her breath quickened involuntarily. Rayf laid his pistol on the table and looped his weapon belt over the back of a chair, never taking his dark, passionate eyes off the frightened girl, nor saying anything to abate her fears.
She sat up watching his approach. He was a predator, a lion in the savanna, a hawk circling, the jungle cat in the bush. Olivia knew all too well who the prey was, and she was powerless. No, she wanted to be powerless. Her desire for the young man erupted. She sat awaiting his pleasure, her breath constricting in her tight bodice.
In the flickering lamp light, Olivia saw the glint of a blade in Rayf’s hand. Her blood ran hot and cold at the same time as he leaned over her, containing her between his powerful arms, his virile chest. Rayf’s dark eyes burned with a deep passion. She gasped as she saw the dagger. Its long blade seemed to burn like fire, yet she felt her warmth get sucked into the ice cold blade as it passed over her. Rayf dropped to his knees, pushing hers apart, his hands reaching under her linen dress.
With his hands now hidden by her dress, Olivia held her breath. She was truly powerless to his whims, his desires, his wishes, and it excited her. Her passions flamed in her fear. Her heart pounded. She breathlessly waited for Rayf’s next move. Rayf, sensing her arousal, lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder. She felt the ball at the end of his pommel rub glide up her leg. She felt the chill of the steel through her hose and knickers as he guided the dagger up her calf, across the inside of her knee, then up the inside of her thigh.