Lock (9 page)

“And he’s big.” The fisherwoman giggled, her plump cheeks stained pink. “Biggest man I’ve ever seen in these parts.”

“What am I, a horse?” Lock snarled. “Get these bitches out of here!”

“Need to teach him some manners.” The blacksmith glanced over her shoulder at Sparrow. “But at least he speaks our language.”

“You’ll have to train him to do more than the washing up,” the seamstress said. “Once he’s tamed, you can move him to the barn and let him do the heavy work.”

“That hair is rather pretty,” the fisherwoman looked thoughtful. “If you cut it off, it would fetch a good price from the wig maker. Odd color, though, she might take off for that. You can keep letting it grow, cutting it off, and making a profit, just like you do with sheep.”

“You’re all daft. Every last one of you.” Lock bellowed, “Get out!”

“Why are men so loud?” The seamstress winced. “My sixth husband was loud up until the day he died.”

“Six husbands?” Lock curled his lip. “What were you, poisoning them until you found one you liked?”

“I sort of like his voice.” The blacksmith’s eyes raked Lock from head to foot. “Deep and powerful. And he has a fine body—save his back, of course. I’d bed him down so long as he kept a shirt on.”

“I wonder if other parts of him are as big as the rest?” The fisherwoman blushed again. “He looks like he’s toting a log beneath that loincloth.”

Lock smiled humorlessly and said, “Why don’t we find out?” He jerked off his loincloth and flung it aside. In spite of the scars marking his flesh, the women stared at his body like cats ogling a bowl of cream. From his broad, sculpted shoulders to his long, muscular legs, he was pure, raw male, and his long, thick, semi-erect cock and huge balls dangling beneath paid tribute to that fact.

“Merciful goddess,” the fisherwoman murmured, touching a hand to her breast.

“If he wasn’t such a killer, he’d have been worth the price you paid for him,” the seamstress breathed.

The blacksmith stared at his cock and said, “More.”

Sparrow knew her face was bright red as she turned toward the door and held it open for her guests. “I think that’s quite enough. You asked to see him, so now you’ve seen.”

“You know, Sparrow, I don’t think we’ll be able to keep the other women away,” the blacksmith said. “Not after the description I plan on giving them.”

“You should charge a fee to look at him,” the seamstress suggested. “The novelty will wear off eventually, but until then, you could make a little profit.”

“I will not charge women to look at him! Do I look like a flesh peddler? Now I’ll ask you all to leave and tell everyone else not to bother coming.”

“Tell the others if they want a look at me, Sparrow usually gets home around dusk!” Lock called to the retreating women. “But I don’t want to miss supper, so be waiting when she gets here. Ten at a time in the house. The others form a line outside. One…no two silver pieces a head. That sounds fair, doesn’t it, girl?” He wiggled his eyebrows in Sparrow’s direction. “I’m worth a good two hundred a look, but I don’t think this pathetic village has that kind of wealth lying around.”

The women, still chatting among themselves, left the house. Sparrow slammed the door behind them and glared at Lock. “Do you have even a shred of self-respect? And put that loincloth back on! Preferably your tunic, too!”

He laughed. “What’s the harm in looking? You thought bringing them here to gawk at me would annoy me? I’ve had worse than that in my day. Bring them in. Make yourself some money. Nice to know women are willing to pay just to have a look. Not that I blame them.”

He didn’t touch the loincloth, but sat on the floor, his back braced against the wall and his arms folded behind his head, making his large biceps bulge. His cock appeared even bigger than before as it stood up in a kinky bush of brown and white pubic hair. That, along with his broad, hairy chest and his taut abdomen made Sparrow’s mouth dry.

“What about you?” he asked in a husky voice, his eyes sweeping her from head to toe. “You already paid top dollar for me. Want to try your goods?”

Sparrow licked her dry lips. That suggestion was almost too tempting, but if he didn’t have any pride, at least
she
did.

“I have to get back to work,” she muttered.

“There’s always tonight!” he called as she closed the door behind her.

Lock stared at the door and cursed. Who did the little bitch think she was? Dragging women and children in and out of the house all day to gawk at him!

He’d known by the smug look on her pretty face that she’d brought the women just to annoy him. Little did she know he’d endured far worse in his life. If those women wanted to pay to see him, fine. Debasing himself had been a way of life for him since the day he’d been born.

Don’t you have any self-respect?
she’d asked. He’d earned the fear of other men. He’d fought to make himself the most terrifying pirate in the SothSeas. Where he came from, that was as close to respect as a man could get.

When Sparrow and the women had entered the house, he hadn’t cared one way or the other about the villagers. It was the look on Sparrow’s face when she gazed at him, the way her trousers clung to her legs, and the way the open neck of her billowy shirt revealed the firm, plump curve of her breasts that made him want to bed her down like no woman he’d ever met before. Just looking at her and envisioning the look of discovery in her innocent eyes when he took her stirred his flaccid organ enough to provide the pesky village women with a decent show. He hadn’t been watching for their reactions, though. Only Sparrow’s. She’d blushed the loveliest shade of red and looked at his cock like she wanted to devour it. He had no doubts about her sexual inexperience – not that she wasn’t an absolute pleasure to kiss and fondle—but he knew once she got the first real taste of hard rutting, she’d be wilder than any SothSea whore. Still, he knew the former princess would only share her wiles with a single man. She was decent, of that he was certain. She was too good for him, but he wanted her anyway, and he wanted his freedom more. By the time he was through, he’d have both his freedom and a taste of the dethroned princess to take with him as a memory.

He was already formulating a plan. Sparrow had told the children she kept his key on her. All he had to do was lure her close enough again and this time take what he wanted…in every way.

* * * * *

Sparrow walked slowly to the house, dragging a sled of firewood behind her. Winter would be coming in a few short months, and she’d been chopping extra wood in preparation for the frigid season. She felt a little weary as she parked the sled outside of the house and stepped in, looking forward to a hot meal and a good night’s sleep.

All afternoon, her mind had been filled with the vision of Lock naked. When he’d been ill, she and Shea-Ann had seen him nude many times. They’d had to help him do everything, since he was too weak and in too much pain to do much for himself. Though she’d found him attractive even through the worst of times, it had been next to impossible to become aroused over a man whose back was like a slab of raw meat. He healed remarkably fast, however, and the whipping seemed so long ago. He was almost completely healed and exuded power like she’d never imagined. She wondered what it would feel like to have his big, naked body claim hers. She’d always imagined her first time to be with a gentle man, one who loved her and whom she loved. Now she was having lusty thoughts about a rugged, hateful pirate, and she couldn’t help herself.

As she stepped into the house, her gaze riveted to Lock’s corner of the room. She’d expected him to greet her with one of his snide remarks, but to her surprise he was asleep on his blankets. At the fireplace, she stirred the pot of stew and filled two bowls. She was about to place Lock’s within distance of his reach when she noticed a mug of water had spilled all over the floor by his head.

Muttering, she placed the bowls on the table, took up a rag, and squatted beside him to clean up the water.

She screamed as his arms locked around her, pinning her own to her sides. She struggled, kicking him violently, but his legs wrapped around her and he held her in a grapple hold.

“Let go of me!” she bellowed, her heart pounding. Blinded by sheer terror of what he might do, she continued fighting, though she was unable to move a limb.

“Where’s the key, princess?” he said close to her ear, his beard rough against her face.

“No! I’ll never let you go!”

“I’m nobody’s slave! You’re going to give me that key one way or the other!”

“Never!”

“That fond of me, are you?” He gloated, shaking her hard. “Give it to me!”

Sparrow had never been so frightened in her life. His body was like unbendable metal, his hold almost painful. She saw fire in his demonic blue eyes and wondered if he meant to kill her. It served her right for taking him into her house. Everyone had warned her that he was a murdering thief. Suddenly she remembered the law the bounty hunter had told her of. If he escaped, she’d receive his punishment!

“Lock, listen to me! If you run away, I have to take your punishment. That’s the law here.”

He loosened his grip only enough to spin her so that she faced him. His eyes were so hard, so furious, and so full of…He pressed her closer, and she felt his hard cock against her belly.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“If you escape and word gets out, I have to take your punishment because I was responsible for you.”

He hesitated, studying her face. “Do you think I care?”

“Yes,” she whispered, praying that if she acted as though she believed he was capable of human emotions, he would start to believe it himself. “I think you do.”

His lip curled slightly and she saw his chest rise and fall with agitated breathing. He snarled through clenched teeth, his fingers bruising her arms. “Give me the key or I’ll kill you.”

“I’d rather have you kill me quickly than have them torture me!”

“What makes you think I’ll do it quick?” He stood, dragging her to her feet and thrusting her against the wall. He pinned his body against hers, his broad, warm chest crushing her breasts, his steely thighs trapping her legs. He rubbed his cock against her crotch. Sparrow shivered. He buried his face in her neck, his tongue licking her flesh, his teeth nipping, his beard tickling. Sparrow closed her eyes and felt every bit of strength leave her legs.

The man was a beast! He was ravaging her, or so he thought. The sensations of his body and lips were like nothing Sparrow had ever experienced. His earlier kisses had been gentle, almost tender, but these were filled with such forbidden passion that she felt as if she was drowning in desire. He released his hold on her arms and ran his hands over her hips, up her ribs, and finally cupped her breasts. A warm globe in each hand, he squeezed gently. His thumbs caressed her nipples through her rough cotton shirt, and Sparrow gasped. Her hands gripped his back hard, and she felt his sharp intake of breath. Remembering his still-healing flesh, she nearly drew back, but why should she? He was using his body to punish her, why shouldn’t she do her best to punish him?

She dug her fingers deeper into the newly healed skin, and he groaned. He dropped to his knees and unraveled the ties of her shirt, licking her flesh as it was bared. His mouth captured one pert nipple. He sucked hard, his beard rough against her tender flesh. A guttural moan erupted from the depths of Sparrow’s soul. His tongue laved the nipple while he kneaded her other breast.

She felt as if she was melting, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered the reason behind this sensual scene. He wanted the key and was going to search every part of her to find it. She reached beneath the waist of her trousers, removed the key, and flung it.

Lock’s head snapped over his shoulder and he stared, open mouthed, at the key glistening in the corner of the room. Sparrow took the opportunity to leap out of the way. He caught her ankle, but she kicked him and scrambled out of his reach.

“You bitch!” he raged, his eyes shooting blue fire. His chest rose and fell in his fury. Sparrow trembled both from arousal and terror. He pointed at her. “You better pray I don’t get out of here, girl! You better pray! I’ll make the bounty hunters look like Knights of the Ruby Order for what I have planned for you!”

Sparrow sat for a moment, panting, her eyes fixed on Lock’s. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry anymore. She lay on her bed, wrapped herself in her blankets, and wished she’d never made the mistake of saving his life.

* * * * *

“Wake up, bitch!”

Sparrow jumped from the bed, her heart pounding and her eyes frantic. She’d lain awake for most of the night, more unsettled by Lock’s attack than she wanted to admit. It seemed like she’d finally drifted off when his bellow roused her.

“It’s about time.” Lock stood, his arms folded across his chest. “I thought you died in that bed—and without ever having had a man in it.”

Sparrow poured water into a basin and washed, her stomach grumbling with hunger. She’d been too upset all night to get up and eat. Now she was ravenous.

“Have you lost your tongue?” Lock continued. “What does a man have to do to get some food around here?”

“He has to keep silent!” Sparrow snapped, furious at him for disrupting her life. She’d been happy before she’d met him.