The Pirate and the Feisty Maid-- Part One—At His Hand

By Cali MacKay

The Pirate and the Feisty Maid

Part One—At His Hand

By Cali MacKay

Copyright © 2013 by Cali MacKay

Published by Daeron Press

Smashwords Edition

Http://calimackay.com

All rights reserved. This book or any
portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner
whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher
or author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The story contained within is the work of fiction. Names and
characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any
resemblance to actual person’s living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2013

ISBN:
9781940041117

*The material in this book is NOT suitable
for readers under 18 years of age. Scenes are explicit and all acts
are between consenting adults.
*

For Joe, Maeve and Amelia.

Chapter One

18
^th
Century, Isle
of Aetheria in the warmer waters of the East Sea

Molly hadn’t been expecting Ronan to arrive that day.
Indeed, she hadn’t expected him to return from his journey at sea
for another two weeks’ time. She should have known. Two years
they’d been together, and he always surprised her, weeks early or
weeks late.

So here he stood before her, not taking her into his
arms like she’d expect from a lover having just returned after six
months away, but rather pacing the room like an animal caged, his
power coiled tight within.

“I’ve heard rumors, Molly. Rumors that ye
weren’t on yer best behavior whilst I was away.” When he spoke, his
demeanor was one of calm and control, as it always was when dealing
with her. Never had he raised his voice to her, for there was no
need, their understanding of one another complete. “Is it true,
lass?”

How he managed to hear rumors whilst at sea
had always been a mystery to her. Perhaps he just assumed she’d
misbehave in his absence, for she always did. The months he was
gone left her so lonely, she could not bear it. At the worst of
times, she’d seek comfort in the arms of her maid. However, there
was a part of her that misbehaved on purpose, knowing she’d have to
face the consequences—consequences she would surely pay for at his
hand.

He came to stand before her, pulling her from
her thoughts. “When I ask ye a question, I expect an answer.”

She couldn’t look at him, for she knew he’d
see the truth in her eyes, yet it took all she had to not gaze in
his direction, desperately wanting to drink in his handsome form
and face after missing him so. He tilted her chin up with a
roughened finger, so she was forced to look at him.

“Dear Molly, answer me.” Though she could see
the love he had for her in his bright blue eyes, there was also a
hard glint there, one she was all too familiar with. Captain of his
ship—and a pirate, if the truth be told—he knew how to be stern and
was not a man to be disobeyed.

Her heart raced, its deafening beat echoing
in her ears as a wave of need swept through her, his effect on her
immediate. “It is true.”

He was so close, she could still smell the
salty sea on him, and in their time apart, his beard had grown
thick, his skin weathered from the elements and bronzed, despite
his Highland blood. Having him so near made her knees want to give
way with the hope he’d take her in his arms and do with her as he
wished—as long as he was touching her, she cared not how.

When his face brushed up against hers, her
eyes fluttered shut, his beard rough against her smooth cheek, his
words but a whisper. “Did I not tell ye there’d be consequences?
And yet ye still misbehave. It makes me wonder if ye like me
punishing ye, for I dinna ken a bolder lass.” His warm breath at
her ear sent a shiver over her skin, so it took all she had to not
lean against him.

She was desperate to feel his lips on hers,
but as if sensing her need, he stepped away from her. “Is that it,
my sweet? Do you like making me punish ye?”

Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment,
for it was nothing but the truth, even if she could not bring
herself to admit it out loud. She craved his control and
discipline, the pain that flared into a deep pleasure, and how he
pushed her to her limits and then some, so she came through it all
in the end feeling whole and at peace.

The thought of his firm hand had a pulse
throbbing between her legs, leaving her wet as she remembered the
last time he’d put her over his knee. Already she was squirming
under his scrutiny, both dreading and yearning for what he’d do to
her and how it’d feel to be at his mercy.

He was the only one who’d ever come close to
taming her. Bold and strong-willed, she’d never thought to let
anyone have such control over her, and yet it was different with
Ronan. From the start, he’d understood her. Understood that she
truly longed to have him bend her to his will. And that if she
misbehaved, he knew it was so she’d not feel guilty about giving
him such control—even if it was what she truly wanted.

Ronan cupped her face, and brushed a thumb
across her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering closed for just a moment
as she tried not to lean against his palm. And then his touch was
gone. “Answer me, Molly. If ye’re testing me by trying my patience,
ye won’t be doing yerself any favors.”

He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it
onto the chair, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut over the
muscles of his broad back. She then watched as he slowly rolled up
one sleeve, then the other, taking his time so that each moment
that passed left her mind racing through images of the punishment
she’d receive, her quim flexing in needy anticipation. His strong
jaw, tall and muscular build, those intelligent blue eyes and his
mere presence—they all worked together to have her breath hitching
and her heart racing, her love for him overwhelming.

“Molly… have ye forgotten that I’m waiting?”
His lips quirked in a hint of a smile, as if he’d caught her pining
after him, the intensity of his keen gaze leaving her dizzy. “Let
me repeat myself, lest ye’ve forgotten my question, since it’s been
so long since I first asked it. Do ye misbehave because ye enjoy it
when I punish ye?”

She knew not what to say, but knew she must
answer him, even if it was clear to everyone involved that she
broke the rules he set on purpose. Still, the words stuck in her
throat and she couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth behind her
actions. “No, m’lord. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you distress. I
hadn’t meant to.”

“Ye ken I’ll not abide ye causing trouble.
Ye’ll still need to be punished, whether ye meant to disobey me or
not—and I do believe ye had every intention of doing just that,
since I don’t imagine ye just accidentally fell into bed with yer
maid.” Grabbing her wrist he pulled her towards the bed and sat on
the edge of the thick mattress.

In one quick move he had her over his knee,
holding her in place with a sturdy arm across her waist. She
couldn’t help but struggle now, knowing what was to come, even if
her quim ached with need. A quick move had her long skirts up
around her waist, leaving her bare and exposed, the summer day too
hot to wear more proper underpinnings and corsetry.

As her arse twitched and clenched in
anticipation, he gently laid his hand across her plump arse to
steady her. “Molly. I’ll not have ye flailing about like a fish on
a hook. Be still with ye, or ye’ll only make yer punishment
worse.”

His words and firm tone immediately put a
stop to her squirming. She took a deep breath and let her eyes rest
on the floor as she awaited her fate. Waiting for that first blow
was almost worse than the blow itself, for she could only imagine
that first meeting of flesh with flesh, his broad weathered palm
against her delicate skin. The mere thought of it had her squeezing
her legs together to try and suppress her need, though it did
nothing but make matters worse, her juices flowing. His hand, still
rough on her arse, now rubbed it gently, making her body tense
further in anticipation.

The first blow fell hard and fast, with no
warning, like a crack of lightning across her flesh. She stifled a
yelp as tears sprung to her eyes and the pain heightened her need
for him. After so many months away, she should’ve known he wouldn’t
start off with a light hand, even if there was no need to
reestablish their roles.

“Why do ye make me do this to ye, sweet
Molly?”

He landed another blow and another,
alternating cheeks so each one felt as if it’d been set on fire,
the pain melting into pleasure. Giving her a moment, he rubbed the
spots he’d paddled with one hand, while the other ran over her slit
to find her dripping wet, her arousal from his ministrations
undeniable. She raised her arse towards him, desperate for release
and wanting to feel his rough fingers fill her. Yet he did not
oblige her, clearly enjoying her struggles.

“What is it ye want, my love?” His hand
landed across her arse cheek again, the hot sear across her skin
sending a shiver of need through her. “Tell me what ye want, and
maybe I’ll oblige ye.”

As bold as she could be, she found it
difficult to tell him what she so desired, the words always
sticking in her throat like days-old bread. Another slap had her
sucking in a deep breath, his male scent mixing with that of the
sea, so that her head swam with the want of him. When missing him
most, she’d often go down to the shore late at night, to take in
the smells of the salty air and think of him as she satisfied
herself, though it only left her missing him all the more, her
ministrations a poor substitute.

“Tell me, my love. Tell me what ye want. Is
it this?” Another slap across her arse had her reeling with desire,
even as her tears ran down her cheeks, her entire face red and hot
with need and the delicious embarrassment of her predicament. She
breathed in his salty scent again, her cunt throbbing.

His finger ran down between her arse cheeks,
to the slippery wet heat between her legs, plunging in this time,
so that a moan escaped her lips. “Answer me, Molly. Is this what ye
want?” He fingered her, in and out, adding a second finger and then
a third, thrusting deep, while rubbing her swollen nub. She
teetered on the edge, needing just a little more of his touch, when
he withdrew his fingers, and smacked her bottom again, the blow
landing hard across her arse and sex this time, forcing her to bite
back a yelp.

Taking a ragged breath, she was now desperate
enough to plead with him, desperate to have him fill her.
“Please…”

Her entire body screamed for release, but she
knew he’d not give it to her until he thought she’d suffered
enough, her penance for disobeying him. By now, she was reeling
with want, her arse fidgeting in the air as it sought out his hand,
hoping he’d show her some mercy and either thrust his strong
fingers into her once more or continue with her punishment, knowing
it would only heighten her pleasure when he did finally take
her.

“Please? If ye want something, my sweet lass,
ye need but ask. What is it ye need, my love?” She could tell he
was smiling now, could hear it in his voice, and it made her heart
flutter.

She’d been his from the start and he knew her
like no other—knew what she needed, what she wanted. He knew how
much she could take, though he always pushed her just past her
limits so she came through it stronger and more whole—more aware of
who she truly was and what she truly needed and desired.