Other Oceans: Book Two of the Hook & Jill Saga (43 page)

Her feet left the floor as Cecco, with his powerful arms, picked her up like an expensive doll and propped her in the captain’s bunk where, of all places, she should have felt at home. But everything was changing now….He showed her again, gently, even lovingly, all over her body, what a man’s two hands could do. Her breathing took on a rhythm of its own, and then slowed to match his movements as she warmed to this man’s magic, in spite of all previous resolutions. It didn’t help that he was adorned with gold. She ran her hands over its glossy texture, rich like his skin. She caressed the gold on his arms, the gold at his ears, his chest, his wrists. And…She fingered his ring. She couldn’t help but want it.

Her touch, so intimate, spurred him on. “I told you no lies. You will share all my treasure with me, Lady. Starting now.” His gilded chains swung from his neck as he leaned over her. His gold dangled over her breast. And she was surprised, mere moments later, how easily her thighs relented under the pressure of his knee and let him enter, in another welcome consummation.

But Cecco was in no hurry to seal this accord between the gypsy captain and the pirate queen. He had neglected to mention one last article, still unspoken, to include in their terms.

Surrender.

Despite her acquiescence, he controlled his passion, pushing forward only gradually, inch by inch as she clung to him, until, with her eager threshold, she just kissed his golden ring. Then he backed away.

She breathed, “Giovanni…”

She expected him to answer tenderly, as any lover might do. But as her captain, he corrected her instead, as he had done when he was only her devoted sailor.

“You are too informal. What am I, Madam?” He pressed inward as he kissed her. Only after he withdrew did he permit her lips the freedom to answer.

She whispered. “You are the master— of this ship.” He moved again so that she encompassed his golden ring. Then it slipped away. She pulled in her breath.

“Only of the ship?” He allowed it again, then…

He surged out, like the tide.

“No!”

“Who rules you?” He crested once more. And ebbed.

“My master.”

With a motion, he rewarded her. “What am I to you?”

He abandoned her.

“The captain.” Breathing was impossible.

As he advanced once more, his ring touched her again. Warm, smooth, and golden. “Whose captain…my Jill?”

It was gone. His bracelets jingled as he raised her hips to meet him.

And he delivered himself again.

“My captain.” As she spoke it, some mysterious connection linked the lips of her mouth and the lips that embraced him. Even as her lover’s insistence filled the void within her, she remembered the first man, she knew he still lived, and the movement of her mouth as she formed his word again, “Captain,” sent her over the edge of sensation. No residue of resistance held her back. A golden ring, a golden earring, it was all the same to her now. She sighed, and retaining one shred of secrecy, denied her lips the utterance of her desire…Hook…and she gave herself over to the ecstasy. She found the shape for the word and called him again. “Captain.” Here was her captain.

This man returned the favor, breathing huskily into her hair, “Lady…”

He was more than generous. He was lavish with his gifts. She found herself inviting them, accepting them, and ultimately, gathering in his bounty of liquid pearls. She held fast to his golden armbands, hot to her touch, and took all his offering as they coupled together there, on the captain’s bunk. But when at length their two bodies stilled, he didn’t allow them to lie long, satisfied. Coaxing more, Cecco sat upright, renewing his efforts. Never surrendering her fastness, he pulled her up by her wrists to kneel astride him. He drew her arms about his shoulders. She clasped her arms together, and still she filled her emptiness with his offering. Sometimes she kissed him, and sometimes she kissed Hook. She couldn’t stop herself—

Someone else stopped her.

A tremendous blow hit the door and sent it smashing into the room. Jill jerked, clawing at Cecco as a tall figure stamped in and the door bounced back. At the sight of his familiar frame, Jill’s hopes soared. Her eyes hungrily claimed him. He was lit from behind by the glare of torches, and from within by soft candlelight. His hair flamed in the flare of burning pitch as he braced his legs and slowed, his hand on his weapon, his boots stepping unsteadily.

Jill stared in confusion at him, the man she had needed an hour ago, in whose arms she should at this moment be sheltered. Come now, too late.

“Mr. Smee…” Pangs of disappointment stung her heart. Hook wasn’t at his side.

Smee looked at her, and checked his forward motion. Jill’s eyelids were heavy, she was panting, her arms around Cecco’s neck, her beautiful flesh unmarked by violence. Clearly, the lady hadn’t been forced. Her face was suffused with her passion. Cecco’s sun-browned face, too, glowed with satisfaction. Intimately, their bodies intertwined. Their eyes burned too feverishly to mistake the truth. Even now, Jill and her consort were making love.

“Ma’am—” Smee’s eyebrows drew together as he focused, then, haltingly, he backed away. “I thought you might be trusting me to take you out of here.” Jill became aware of the doctor standing speechless in his suit coat, rigid behind the bo’sun. The gash of his dueling scar was gray against his open jaw as he blinked, utterly shocked. Nibs hung back behind the threshold, reluctant, with Starkey in his shadow. Mullins and Jukes crowded the companionway, and one of the torches was clenched in the black fist of Yulunga. His expression was unreadable.

Gathering wits enough to make his face blank, Smee finally said, “I’d have done anything for you, Lady. But I see you won’t be needing me, after all.”

Yulunga stooped and strode in, elbowing the doctor from his path. His torch cast a glaring light, flickering amber on the naked bodies in the bed. Both lovers remained still, unabashed and exposed for all to see. But despite the exquisite vision before him, it was her eyes that sobered Smee.

He stood uncomfortably, Yulunga’s flame reflecting in his spectacles. Then he squinted at the gypsy. “Begging your pardon…” His lip curled as he spat out the title of distinction,
“Captain
.
”

On hearing the word, Nibs looked hard at Smee, then sent a glance full of pain to Jill, as if he suffered a grievous wound. He turned and launched himself down the stairs. Starkey followed him.

Moving at last, Jill buried her face in Cecco’s brawny arm. She felt the heat of his golden armband against her cheek. He stroked her hair, looking directly at Smee. “Fear nothing, Jill. You are under my protection now.”

But the pirate queen’s head snapped up. “Every man on this ship knows that I fear nothing!” She directed an icy stare at Smee. “I know where my duty lies. I embrace it without shame.” The words escaped from between the two halves of her broken heart. “Take your accusing eyes, man, and get out of—” only she knew she faltered, “our quarters.”

Smee’s expression became set. He turned on his heel and stumbled toward the door.

“Wait!”

Halting, he swung around. In spite of his outrage, a ray of hope lighted the face above his red beard.

Jill said, “You will see to the door, personally, in the morning. We will leave it open tonight, so that there will be no doubt as to our disposition. Captain Cecco and I are agreed.”

Smee’s face hardened. He didn’t wait to be dismissed again. He strode out and left the woman to her fate, without looking back.

She didn’t blame him. He believed she had betrayed his master. Her master.

Perhaps he was right.

The silence was broken only by the spitting of the pitch. The doctor and the torchbearers gaped for another moment, then departed. Yulunga watched them go. As they clattered away, he addressed the captain.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“You will show the proper respect to your mistress.”

“Aye, Sir. I apologize for the disturbance, Lady. I would have stopped him from smashing the door, but I thought it best that they see for themselves.”

The captain nodded. “You acted wisely, Mr. Yulunga. We will have no more trouble from that quarter.” His fingers played with Jill’s hair as it shone in the leaping torchlight. “Where is
L’Ormonde?”

“To the northeast, Sir, off to port. She won’t catch us tonight.”

“See that she doesn’t.”

Yulunga grunted assent. The flame dragged behind his torch as he headed for the stairs. At the threshold, he turned. “And the door, Sir?”

“As the lady commands. Leave it open.”

The first mate lifted his face in tribute to his mistress. “You display much courage, Lady!” Smiling sideways, he blended into the night.

Jill didn’t hear his heavy footsteps descending the stairs; she believed she heard a tapping on the wall. But when she looked she saw that, as before, the captain’s claw was not suspended from its hook. The panel was bare. She lay down, turned her face to the wall, and wept.

Cecco reveled in his good fortune. “You are magnificent, Madam! Such a woman! So full of fire. And you give yourself to me completely. You will find me more than worthy of your deference.” Turning his ugly back to the ruined, gaping doorway, the new captain lay down beside her. He caressed her shoulder. “But now you weep. Ah, my lovely. I sympathize. I am a man who understands women. Such a shock.…And you are grieving, of course.” His expert hands stroked her, lending comfort and affection.

“After such passion and such loyalty, I do not expect you to give to me anything more tonight. You must shed the tears. I will take care of everything.” So saying, he sat up and heaved his bulk above her, and his two good hands rolled her onto her back. Murmuring endearments, he gathered her wrists in his fist and held them firmly against the mattress, above her head. He positioned her legs, kissed her tears, and with a complacent smile, he mounted her.

“You must lie still, my Jill. Your captain will love you and demand nothing more.” And Jill lay beneath him and followed her two captains’ commands.

It was easy this time. Even with no chains or rubies to induce her obedience. Miserable in her grief, she finally followed Hook’s own orders— and betrayed him again. She submitted to the captain’s will. She wouldn’t dare move her limbs until he was finished with her. In their make-believe play, Hook had warned her once, or maybe twice, before, and she understood the consequences otherwise. If she moved, she would lose everything.

But the ship moved. It pulled her forward, inexorably, into the night. Far away she heard the grateful kisses of waves on the hull. The salt on her lips must be kisses of the sea, too. She touched them with her tongue. She listened to the voice of the man above her, offering no choice but persuading just the same, speaking her name and claiming her for his own. She heard the golden chime of bracelets on two whole, well-formed wrists. The wrists of a man who urged her forward.

What, really, did she have left to lose? She had given up more than she intended, and taken pleasure in it, too. She had driven Smee away. Hook was gone. And Captain Cecco was here.

Strong, handsome Cecco, was here.

Everything was changed, and everything was the same. By the wreckage of the door, a phantom sea captain stood, his rapier upheld.
Identify the weapon
…
the weakness
. Still hearing his velvet voice, Jill closed her eyes. Her weary ears caught Cecco’s cadence. Obediently, she listened to her captain.

And she surrendered. She gave all her self— heart, body, and mind— to Cecco. She knew where her duty lay.

She embraced it.

“Sir…”

“Bellezza.”
So tender.

“With your permission.”

He studied her face, then released her wrists. Her hands raised up and ran through his hair. She traced the taut muscles of his neck, stroked them, then her fingers unfastened one golden chain. The heaviest one. She slid it off and held it under his eyes.

“Captain?”

He breathed heavily, and nodded. Lifting her head, she fastened the chain around her own neck. With her fingertips, she sampled its silky length from clasp to breast. His clinging eyes followed. When he bent to kiss it, she stopped him with a hand to his cheek.

“Madam?”

She stroked his face. “You are too formal. Say my name, Sir.”

“…Jill.”

“Sir. What are you?”

“The master of this ship.”

“Only of the ship? Sir?” Her fingers played lightly over his arm.

“No.”

“Who rules me?”

His voice roughened. “Your master.”

“What are you to me, Master?” The mellow surface of his bracelet felt smooth under her touch.

“The captain.”

“…Whose captain?” The shining band unhooked from his wrist.

“Your captain, Madam.”

“Aye, Sir. You are my captain.” Above her slender, well-formed wrist that bore his golden bracelet, her red hand, in the gesture that came easily now, reached out to him.

He admired her hand. He accepted her hand. He kissed her hand.

The faintest of smiles was born, and barely suggested itself at the corner of her mouth. Her dark blue eyes clung to him.

There were no sounds but those of the sea making love to a ship, and a master to his mistress. And a phantom-tapping on the wall.

Into all the sweet precincts and secret recesses in which she had harbored Hook, she now drew the scent and the seed of his sailor. As he possessed her completely, all of Mr. Cecco’s dreams came true. And he learned, that night, that he could deny her nothing.

One or two of Jill’s dreams lay dashed. Possessed by her captain, she learned, that night, that she would deny herself— nothing.

Captain Cecco was a man who understood women. He had observed that she was adept in the ways of leadership. He was not a difficult master to satisfy. Red-Handed Jill was his mistress.

And she had mastered him.

Chapter 18

Ups and Downs