A Captive of Chance (7 page)

His emerald eyes flashed amusement as he took in her unusual attire. Since he had deliberately deprived her of her dress trunks and effectively ruined her corset and pantalettes in their last encounter, the arrogant male in him just assumed he would return to his cabin to find a half-naked, half-willing wench.

She had obviously torn through his own attire and settled on an over-sized linen shirt cinched in at the waist with one of his thick leather belts and a pair of his knee socks. Judging by the state of his cabin, Belle had tried and discarded every pair of britches he owned before realizing she could not make them fit.

Her silky, thick black hair was flying about her in wild disarray. Deep blue eyes flashed fury and indignation. Catching a glimpse through the thin, cambric material of his shirt, Chance could just make out dark, pink nipples rising and falling with her deep, agitated breaths. She looked magnificent. Yet again, he felt a primal possessive surge at seeing her attired in his clothes, with his scent still on her skin, standing there in defiance. He smiled with the thought of how he was going to teach his little spitfire a lesson for greeting him so.

Looking about the chaos of open trunks, turned over drawers, and shattered pottery, he commented dryly, “It was very sweet of you,
mon petit trésor,
to straighten up for your man’s return. Once I am finished with you, I truly believe you could find yourself a nice little position as a housemaid or perhaps even a housekeeper!”

“
¡Hijo de puta! Te voy a matar a mí mismo
!” she screamed before launching a clay plate again at his head.

Working herself into a nice frenzy over the last few hours alone, Belle’s anger would not be contained. While she had perfectly justifiable reasons to be angry at him, he was a pirate who kidnapped her after all. If she were honest, she was angrier at herself for giving in to him, even for a moment. How could she have found pleasure at such treatment? Fortunately, for Belle, she was rarely that honest with herself.

“
Pirata sucio
!” she said scathingly.

Chance’s back straightened at her words. “Now that is grossly unfair. I bathed just a few hours ago. I have the scratch marks on my back from your loving care as proof.”

Belle’s eye widened in shock. “
¡Oh Dios! ¿Como sabes español?
”

“
Sí,
” Chance answered with a seductive grin before stepping away from the cabin door and approaching her. Everyone always assumed pirates were uneducated fools, he thought with a wry smile.

Instantly contrite and wary, Belle took a step back. There was no place to run or hide in the relatively small cabin.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl,” chided Chance. “As a general rule, captives usually don’t anger their captors by throwing objects at their head. In fact, and you may be surprised to hear this, for the most part they try to please their captors in an effort to save their lives.”

Closing in on Belle, he gently enfolded her wrists and raised them above her head, keeping them still with one hand. Tracing his free hand down the side of Belle’s soft jaw and neck to tease the collar of his shirt that hung loose over her breasts.

Belle tried to breathe easy, to calm her racing heart, to show him she was not afraid of his closeness, of him. Feeling the heat from his still bare chest as he leaned close, smelling the slightly spicy scent of his soft essence, she tried to show he did not affect her. She failed.

Running his hand lightly over the tip of her breast, he continued to trace the nip of her waist and the swell of her hip before sliding them across her stomach.

Belle licked her lips and uttered a small gasp at the suggestive touch. Chance caught sight of her plump lower lip and suddenly ached for a taste. An ache he denied. He would take from her what he wanted, but he was determined not to give her anything of himself that included the tender intimacy of a lover’s kiss.

Leaning in close, he whispered in her ear, “So tell me, Belle, are you ready to please me?” Chance bit slightly down on the soft curve of her earlobe. “Will you please your captor to save your life?”

Sapphire eyes clashed with emerald. Chance could see her hot Spanish blood rising at his provocation. Pride warring with self-preservation. Sweeping the tip of his tongue around the delicate shell of her ear, he taunted her further. “I want to hear you say it. Let’s see those pretty little pink lips of yours form the words ‘I want to please you.’”

Chance was caught in his own scheme. Realizing the moment he said the words, he fiercely wanted to hear her say it. How he wanted to bend this stubborn, fiery female to his will.

Pushing her further, he whispered, “Say ‘I want to please your cock.’ Say it, my Belle.”

“Never,” she choked out, confused by her conflicting reaction to his nearness, deciding to fight rather than think too deeply about it.

Chance smiled. “You never disappoint, my little spitfire. I was hoping you would say just that.” As he backed away, Belle moved to lower her arms and possibly find a weapon within reach, only to find her wrists had been secured to a beam above with the very belt she had been wearing! The pirate had used his provocative words to distract her. While she was focused on what he was saying and his nearness, Chance had unbuckled the already loose belt and used it to bind her wrists.

“Damn you,” she screamed as she tried to kick out at him.

“Tsk, tsk. Such manners!” taunted Chance as he removed his leather boots and socks, one by one, amused to see his large shirt open wider exposing more of her slight frame without the benefit of the belt.

Ignoring his warning, she kicked out at him as he approached. Capturing both her ankles, Chance pulled her legs up till they wrapped around his waist. Belle let out a startled gasp as she felt the evidence of his aroused cock brushing against her pussy. “Oh, oh,” breathed Belle.

Chance raised a knowing eyebrow before deliberately shifting his hips from left to right, rubbing her delicate hidden lips.

“Don’t worry, my dear. There will be plenty of time for that, but first I must see to your punishment,” he ground out before stepping away from her, letting her legs fall to the wooden floor. Fisting the thin, cambric material, Chance rent the shirt fabric, tearing it from her body. Belle was left bare and exposed with only his knee socks for cover. They reached past her knees but not high enough.

Chance took his time slowly drawing his narrowed eyes up and down her bare form. Taking in her beautiful breasts, so large they curved and flared past her narrow waist. The soft, sparse black curls that hid her pussy. Her long, lean legs that tapered to trim ankles.

Chance picked up his riding crop. Holding it by the long, smooth wooden handle, he tested the weight in his hand as he turned back to observe his beautiful captive.

“No! No! Please, you can’t,” cried Belle as she saw what was in his hand.

“There is very little I can’t do. This is my ship. My world,” answered Chance as he leisurely circled her strung up body.

Belle twisted to try to see him as he moved behind her.

Chance admired the curve of her ass. How it dimpled just below the pitch of her lower back, the smooth creamy expanse of skin. He ran the leather end of the riding crop down the center, tracing her spine, watching as her body shivered with fear or excitement… perhaps both.

“As much as I love the challenge of your stubborn nature, I cannot allow your temper tantrums to go unpunished,
mon petit trésor
,” he said quietly as he contemplated her soft skin.

Bending his arm at the elbow, he struck out, marring the creamy flesh of her left buttock with the leather tongue of the riding crop.

Belle cried out in surprise and pain.

Chance slashed again, giving her a matching red mark on her right buttock.

“Stop! It hurts!” shrieked Belle desperately twisting against her wrist binds.

Ignoring her pleas, Chance continued her punishment, peppering her ass with red stripes from the unrelenting riding crop.

Belle cringed each time she heard the whistle of the crop moments before it struck her exposed body. The throbbing sting intensified with each blow. This was nothing like the spanking with his belt earlier. The torment was more acute. The whipping of the thin wooden rod causing a bruising sensation. The flick of the leather tongue immediately after, stinging with red heat. The combination brought her to tears.

“Have mercy! I’m begging you,” cried Isabelle, not sure she could take another flick from the crop.

“Oh my dear, you have not begun to beg.”

Giving her upper thighs a few slashes for good measure, Chance was pleased at the flaming blush that enveloped her ass. He placed one large hand over a reddened globe, wanting to feel the heat from her pain. Belle started at the contact.

Prowling about her at a deliberate pace, Chance moved to her front. Running his knuckles down her tear-streaked cheek, he soothed, “It’s almost over.”

“Please. I learned my lesson,” she cried. “The pain is too much!”

Chance pushed the riding crop’s leather tongue against her pussy, forcing it between her legs, despite Belle’s best effort to keep them tightly closed. Rubbing the crop back and forth, he pulled it back and held up the damning evidence of her own traitorous arousal.

“Is it too much or not enough?” he said, looking confidently pleased. “Admit it,
ma petite
, you like the pain.”

“No, no!”

Chance harshly flicked her left nipple with the riding crop till it glowed an angry red, the tip swollen and throbbing.

“Stop!”

“Admit it,” Chance ground out. The sight of her stretched and at his mercy, her skin glowing a glorious red from his own administrations was quickly fraying his limited self-control.

Belle swallowed hard and raised her chin, glaring at him defiantly. “No!” She would rather die than admit the kiss of his lash aroused her.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered. His voice hardened with desire.

“Wh… what?”

The riding crop fell swiftly against the delicate underside of her right breast. Belle cried out.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded more savagely.

Belle took in his clenched jaw and icy glare and prudently decided not to press him further. Hesitantly, she unlocked her knees and opened her legs… slightly.

“Wider,” he barked.

Startled, Belle opened her legs wide, giving him an unhindered look at the hidden gem between.

His green eyes glowed with dark desire as he lowered the riding crop and then brought it swiftly up between her open legs, striking a stinging blow against her exposed pussy.

Belle howled in pain as she quickly closed her knees.

“Don’t make me tell you again, Belle,” warned Chance.

With a tearful sob, Belle opened her knees again but not without begging, “Please. Please don’t.”

Chance whipped the crop up a second time. The soft delicate lips of her pussy swelled and pinked under the assault. The sharp throbbing pain sending spasms through her body. With every vibration, she felt an unwanted twinge of pleasure. Belle bit her lip as she tried to contain her reaction, but it was too late, Chance saw every nuance.

Dropping the crop, he lowered to his knees and buried his face against her stomach, breathing in the scent of her arousal. Pressing the tip of his nose against her soft curls, he ran the tip of his tongue along her pussy lips, feeling the heat from the riding crop’s punishment.

“Oh god,” moaned Belle, unsure of what was happening. Lost in a duel of pleasure and pain.

Chance swirled his tongue around her bundle of nerves, using every throb, every shiver, and every stinging rush of heat to his advantage. Sensing she was close to release, he reached around her to grasp each delicious globe in his large hand. Giving the heated skin a painful squeeze, he sucked her clit deep into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth.

Belle’s thighs tightened against his jaw as her body shook with the power of her release.

Light-headed and overwhelmed by the unwanted surge of euphoria, Belle did not react when Chance rose to his full height and once again placed her legs around his waist, until she felt the press of the cock he had released from the tight confines of his britches.

“No, wait.”

“Shhh…” he whispered as he used his shaft to stimulate her already sensitive clit, gently gliding, pressing its length, driving her to a second release.

“No more. No more,” she moaned, tossing her head side to side.

“I’m afraid there is a great deal more,” he quipped as he positioned the large, bulbous tip of his cock at her slick entrance.

Re-adjusting his grip to hold her under her thighs, he pressed his hips upwards, pushing the tip into her warm heat.

Belle gasped. “No. I’m a maiden! You cannot do this to me! This is my husband’s right, not yours!”

Chance felt a rush of primitive fury at the thought of another man between her thighs.

“You are mine,” he growled. “There will be no husband.”

Surging upwards, he impaled her delicate frame on his thick shaft, pushing through her maidenhead with ruthless determination.

If her wrists had not been bound, keeping her upright, Belle would have collapsed from the burning sharp pain as he forced her body to give way to his. Her tender passage cramped and strained as he thrust his shaft in deep. It felt like he was tearing her apart from the inside.

After what felt like an eternity, a now familiar warmth started to spread across her limbs. The clamping, searing strain of her inner muscles gave way to a slowly building tension.

Chance clenched his teeth and lowered his brow with strain. Despite his brutal taking of her virginity, he had no wish to really harm her. Tempering his powerful thrusts, careful to not go too deep, at least for his first taking of her tender pussy. It was taking all he had to restrain himself.

Pushing into her small passage was like finding home. Despite her mind’s unwillingness, her body accepted its master. She was so warm, wet and tight. He felt every ripple of tension as it moved from her body up his shaft. He could feel her release against his cock before she was even aware of it herself.