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My heart began to pound. I felt myself growing hard within the confines of the lace.

Valero's fingers began to tug at the buttons on my

trousers, and my breath caught in my throat. "He's not alone, you know." Valero's lips brushed against my jaw, moving toward my ear. "He wasted no time seducing Rax.

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And Janus, too. One night a man in his bed, the next a woman. Sometimes both at once." His hands pushed my pants down over my hips, letting them fall to floor. He gripped and squeezed my buttocks, pulling the lace I wore too tight against my stiff cock, causing me to moan.

"There's no reason you shouldn't have a little fun."

He was absolutely right. "I'm done saying no."

Apparently, that was all he needed to hear. He let

me go. I heard fabric rustling, the thud of boots hitting the floor as they were tossed aside, the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle being undone—he was undressing. The thought of it made me weak. I couldn't wait for him to touch me again.

He grabbed me again and kissed me, his hard body

naked and warm against mine. His hands squeezed and pulled at the lace, making it tug against my cock. He kissed his way down my chest, stopping to tease each of my nipples, until they ached and I was panting beneath him.

Finally, he knelt to help me out of the boots and the slacks that were still around my ankles, leaving me trembling and naked except for the panties, my blindfold, and the tight band around my wrists.

"You're the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he said.

His lips circled my navel. "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?"

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He put his hands on my hips and pulled the lace

tight, and I gasped. His teeth nipped at my stomach. His warm tongue left cool, wet spots on my flesh. He gripped my ass with both hands, kneading and pulling, causing the lace to move on my cock, first pulling down and back, then easing for a moment. Down and back, then easing. I found my hips moving in time with his hands, accentuating the way the fabric rubbed against me. It was so unbelievably sensual, and so erotic, it made me whimper. It made me weak.

His lips and teeth moved lower, and I gasped again

as I felt the warmth of his breath on my cock. The lace was still covering me, but I could feel the heat of his mouth. I felt a hint of moisture as his tongue caressed my tip through the thin lace. I wished suddenly, more than anything, that I could see the man at my feet.

I put my hands down, hooking my bound wrists

behind Valero's neck and pulling him closer. I moaned as the warmth of his tongue spread across the head of my cock. Valero moaned, too. He became more frantic. He attacked me through the lace, licking and nipping at my cock, pulling hard on the fabric.

"Oh gods," I moaned.

Suddenly he stood, pushing hard against me. My

hands were still behind his neck. His hands gripped my ass,

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harder than before. His fingers probed downward, between my legs, and he began to squeeze and knead, causing the tight lace panties to rub against me. Squeezing, kneading, in an unceasing rhythmic pattern. I gasped at the sensation, arching against my captor, crying out at the pleasure of it.

Valero ground against me, thrusting his cock hard against mine as his hands continued to work.

Gods, it felt good! My legs could no longer hold

me. It was only the table behind me and Valero's weight against me that kept me from falling. I wrapped my legs around him and he fucked against me harder, using his hands on my ass to pull me in tighter. He was talking in my ear, a low, urgent whisper in a language I didn't know, so lost in pleasure he didn't seem to care that I didn't understand. I didn't care, either. I cared about nothing but the way the fabric rubbed me, Valero's hands kneaded me, his cock pushed hard against mine. My hands were bound. I couldn't see. I could give nothing back. I could only cling to him, reveling in the wonderfully erotic pleasure of skin and lace against my naked flesh, losing myself to the undeniable need Valero had kindled in me. I wanted more.

Valero cried out, his voice hoarse in my ear. His

rhythm broke, and he tensed, grinding against me. I felt the warm wetness hit my stomach as he came, pushing against me a second time and a third.

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I was close, too. The lace had turned me on, taken

me to the brink, but I ached for some real contact. The urge to come was suddenly strong, and I whimpered. "Please,"

was all I managed to say.

He pushed me roughly back onto the table, and

before I could respond, hands pulled the lace away, freeing my erection. Valero's warm, wet mouth closed over my cock, sucking hard.

It was all I needed. I used my bound hands to push

him all the way down on my shaft as I came. The sudden intensity of my orgasm made me cry out. His lips and tongue seemed to pull it free. The relief of it nearly made me weep—not because it was the most intense orgasm I'd ever had, but because it was the most liberating.

Somehow, even though I was blindfolded, even

though my hands were bound and I was pinned to the table by a man who held me prisoner, I felt free.

"I have to admit," Valero said to me, when we'd both managed to catch our breath, "that's not the way I pictured our first time."

I had to laugh. "Me neither."

"Wait here." He left, and a second later I heard a cabinet in the bathroom open and close, and the water running. He came back out, and I lay there on the table, still catching my breath, while he wiped my stomach clean.

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When he was done, he helped me to my feet. He kissed me again, with a gentleness that surprised me, and as he did, his hands moved down my arms to the tie at my wrist.

"I want to untie you," he said. "But I still worry this is nothing more than a ploy to gain your freedom."

I shook my head. "It's not." What would be the point? "But don't untie me yet."

"Why not?"

"I need to go back to my men."

I couldn't see, and yet somehow, I could
feel
his disappointment. It was the way he suddenly went quiet, and pulled away from me. It was the tone of his voice when he said, "Two steps forward, one step back. Is that how it's going to be?"

More than disappointment. He was hurt.

"This is the last time," I said. "Just give me an hour with them. After that, I'll…" After that, what? I'd come back? I'd be his slave?

I couldn't think about that yet.

"Let me be the one to tell them about the ransom," I said. "I think they deserve at least that much from me."

I felt his hand on my arm. "I suppose they do," he said, and I could tell by his voice that he understood. He moved closer again. His lips brushed mine and I leaned toward him, parting my lips, not just letting him kiss me,

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but kissing him back. I liked the way his tongue brushed the roof of my mouth, and the way he cupped the back of my head with one hand to hold me in place. I liked that hint of dominance. I liked the way his other hand caressed my arm, like a reward. He wasn't demanding my submission—

he wasn't even asking for it—but I knew it would be accepted if I chose to give it. The firmness of his grip on my head, the softness of his touch, told me he'd not only accept it—he'd recognize it for the gift it was. He'd reward me for it. He wouldn't
make
me submit. He'd make me
want to
submit, and suddenly I wanted more than anything to do just that.

It would have been easy for him to change my mind

about going back to my men, but he broke our kiss, pulling away. "I'll help you dress." His hand slid down my back. I still wore the lace panties, and he squeezed my ass again, although so soon after my orgasm, the sensation was more disconcerting than arousing. "But I want you to keep these on."

The request made me smile. "Fair enough."

"The gods know how much I hate putting clothes back on you, but I suppose the sooner I get you down there to your men, the sooner I get you back here in my bed."

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My crew took the news as expected. Some were

shocked. Some were angry. Jerald snorted as if to say it was exactly what he expected.

"So they'll abandon us to the pirates' mercy?" one of them asked. "What's to become of us?"

I told them of the options Valero had outlined for

me: another person who might pay the ransom, or paying their own, or trading their freedom for information.

"They want us to betray the Regency?" one asked.

"Fuck the Regency!" Onslo said, and a couple of them echoed the sentiment. "They've betrayed us."

"You've been betrayed more than you know," I said, and they all fell silent. I could imagine them, their blind eyes all turned toward the sound of my voice. "It was Rikard who gave them our lock code."

This was met with a stunned silence by everybody

but Jerald. "I fucking knew it!" he said. "That spoiled son of a—"

"Are you sure?" one of the others asked.

"Positive," I said. "He sold us out for a cut of the ransom."

"He wouldn't!"

"He did!" I said. "Right now, he's in a private cabin,

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at least four floors above us. He's smoking the pirates'

tobacco and drinking their wine. He has two of them warming his bed each night.
And
he can see! Is there any other explanation?"

They fell silent again. I could sense their confusion, their anger, their disbelief. I could feel their need for some type of guidance. For comfort.

I had none to give.

I stood up and made my way to the door. I knew

Pierce was waiting on the other side to take me back to Captain Valero.

"Captain Yima will send men down tomorrow," I said to Jerald and the boys who had been my crew. "You'll be taken out one at a time and given a chance to make your offers." What else was there to say? Nothing. I knocked on the door to signal Pierce that I was ready to leave. "Good luck to you all."

"Are you leaving?" Onslo asked.

"I am," I confessed as the door opened.

"But Captain Kelly—"

"I'm not your captain anymore."

* * * *

"How did it go?" Valero asked, once I was back in

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his room.

"As well as can be expected, I guess," I said. The truth was, it didn't matter to me. Not anymore. I meant what I'd said to them: I wasn't their captain. I knew I should never have been promoted to begin with—I was trained to follow, not to lead—and now that the Regency had cut us all loose, there was no point in allowing the foolish charade to go on.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"About what?" I asked. "They're not my problem anymore."

"I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you."

I felt him move close. He caressed my bare arms. "Tristan, is there somebody who will ransom you?"

That was something I'd been trying not to think

about. My parents had too many children and too little money. I had money of my own, but the thought of giving it to the pirates so I could go back to work for the Regency made me sick. "No," I said. "There's nobody."

"There's another option for you, you know." His voice was strange. He sounded nervous.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to go," he said. "You could stay with me."

My heart skipped a beat at the thought. What

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exactly did he mean? "Stay here with you as what?" I asked. "Your catamite?"

"No," he said. "As one of us."

"A pirate?"

"Yes."

Was he saying what I thought he was saying? "As your lover?"

Only a heartbeat of silence, and then, "
Yes
."

My heart was racing. It was irrational. It was crazy.

And yet…

"You don't even know me," I said.

His hands slid up my arms, over my shoulders. He

held my face between his hands, as if he could force me to look at him and actually see him. "I know," he said. "But having the chance to know you seems…" His words trailed away, and I imagined him floundering for a word.

"Important?" I offered.

"Like fate."

As crazy as it sounded, I knew exactly what he

meant. The thought of staying filled me with light. I thought about having a new place. A new home. No

Regency. No prince. I would be starting over. With Valero, a man I barely knew, and had never seen. And yet, it felt right.

I thought about what Jerald had said to me about

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duty and loyalty. I thought about the things Pierce had told me about his captain. I thought of all the men whose orders I'd blindly obeyed over the years.

"Tristan, I'd give anything to know what you're thinking right now."

His words made me smile. Nobody had ever said

that to me before.

It was easy to make up my mind.

"I've given my loyalty to a lot of men because it was my duty, but I don't think any of them deserved it."

"I don't deserve it, either," he said quietly. "I'm the man who kidnapped you, remember?"