Bound by the Buccaneer (Pirates of the Jolie Rouge) Read online

  Bound by the Buccaneer

  By

  Normandie Alleman

  Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Night Publications and Normandie Alleman

  Copyright © 2014 by Stormy Night Publications and Normandie Alleman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Alleman, Normandie

  Bound by the Buccaneer

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Jimmy Thomas at RomanceNovelCovers.com, Bigstock/Jgroup, and 123rf/Mffoto

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Chapter One

  “You love knowing I can’t escape, don’t you? That I’m all yours,” Frederica teased, tugging at the restraints that bound her wrists to the bed.

  Gaston raised a brow to her. “And what if I do?” He asked, untying the ropes from her wrists. “You know how much it excites me to see you all bound and helpless. Don’t you like being my own personal little whore?” Mischief danced in his visible brown eye. The other, injured in battle, hid behind a black patch.

  Lazing on her back upon their cot, she touched a finger to her lips and rolled her eyes in mock consideration.

  Before she had a chance to answer his rather rhetorical question, he pounced on her. His weight upon her gave her a feeling of warmth and security she felt at no other time than when lying under him.

  “Liar,” he whispered into her ear, his mouth trailing down her neck. “Tell me how much you love it.” Then he proceeded to tickle her ribs which sent her into a gale of giggles.

  “Must I resort to the gag again?” He waved a red kerchief in the air playfully.

  Her laughter made it difficult to speak. “Yes, yes, I love it.” Her voice reached a high-pitched squeal.

  He ceased the tickling and sensually covered her mouth with his hand. “You must remain quiet or I will be forced to quiet you.” With each word his mouth traveled lower on her body, accentuating every word with a kiss.

  Gaston hated for her to be too loud during their lovemaking. He worried that if the crew heard them, it would cause trouble. It wasn’t exactly fair for the Captain to be the only man aboard with a woman to bed every night. It was unclear to her whether he was more worried the pirates would rape her, or if he feared they would stage a mutiny of his leadership, or both. Either was a potential problem if the men grew irritable enough.

  So she tried to be quiet, but it was difficult considering the way Gaston brought her to such heights of ecstasy. Though she’d been a virgin when they met, and therefore inexperienced, she had no doubt he had talents in the bedroom that exceeded those of most men.

  All he had to do was look at her a certain way, and Frederica’s body responded to him. His kisses awakened a fire inside her that only he could douse. “I know how you can keep my mouth quiet,” she breathed huskily.

  “And how is that?” Their words took on the slow, sensual tone of foreplay.

  “Put something in it.” She slid his finger into her mouth and sucked on it lazily, her eyes growing heavy with lust.

  He got up and stood beside the bed. “Something like this?” He asked, sliding his erection between her eager lips.

  She nodded imperceptibly and took him deep into her mouth, relishing the taste of him. He reached down and folded her toward him, giving him access to her ass.

  Smack! Smack! The sound of his slaps to her bottom filled the room, her skin smarted, and she whimpered under his hand.

  Such noises were acceptable. The racket coming from the Captain’s room that resulted from a man smacking his woman wouldn’t cause any of the crew members to think twice.

  But Gaston had trained Frederica to enjoy his spankings, almost to crave them. He’d taught her to appreciate the connection between pleasure and pain. The blood rushing to the surface of her skin made her more sensitive to being touched and also increased the intensity of the experience. The painful activities aroused her because she knew her pleasure would follow.

  There had even been times when Gaston had worked her body into such a state that she seemed to fall away into a dream world. He’d told her once that she seemed to crave that state like those with a laudanum addiction craved the drug.

  Now, as he choked her with his thick cock while he spanked her ass, she found utter contentment in him manhandling her body. She loved for him to use her for his pleasure, and it was easy to submit to his will because he always made her own satisfaction the highest priority. Her trust in him was absolute.

  He had saved her life when Humphrey, Captain of the Neptune’s Damnation, had forced them to walk the plank. She would never have survived those next two days lost at sea had it not been for Gaston. In one swift movement he withdrew from her mouth and flipped her over onto her backside.

  Her sore bottom hit the less-than-cushy bunk that served as their bed. “Ouch!” she complained.

  He laughed, covering her body with his. “Come now. It’s not that bad is it?” His lips nipped her flesh just above the collarbone, sending currents or excitement into her extremities.

  She giggled. “Okay, maybe not that bad.”

  Rising to his knees he lifted her legs by the ankles and caressed the hot globes of her ass. She imagined they were warm to the touch, as they were more sensitive after the spanking, though it had been more erotic than punitive in nature.

  He pulled her to him, and she assisted by crossing her ankles behind his neck as he entered her. The angle made the fucking all the more intense and she had to bite her finger to keep from screaming.

  With a glimmer in his eye he handed her the kerchief. “In your mouth,” he snarled.

  Relieved to have something to bite down on, she eagerly complied, stuffing most of the cloth in her mouth. Before Gaston had thought to gag her, she’d once made her own lip swollen by biting down on the inside of it during a particularly intense orgasm. Now she was free to bite and even cry out because the gag muffled her cries. This helped free her and allow her to enjoy every sensation she experienced during their time together.

  Gaston ground his hips into her and his cock hit the front wall of her pussy with great force. He pulled out slowly then thrust hard, repeating the pattern which stimulated her core. The delicious pummeling made the muscles of her cunt clench around him, and she threw her head from side to side, taking the intense pleasure he gave her.

  The banging against her sensitive spot felt divine, and she tensed her whole body, preparing for it to take flight. Push after push and then she fell away. Broken shards of ecstasy shattered through her body, filling her with a peace only Gaston could bring her.

  Moments later, with a slight catch of his breath, he stilled and she felt his seed seep into her depths. Her legs were cramped by now, and it felt nice when he untangled them from his neck and set them down gently on the bunk.

  “You are quite a useful little slave,” he teased, wrapping her up in his arms.

  “And you are quite a benevolent master,” she flirted back. Although they joked about her being his slave and in some ways she behaved as such, they both knew that with her independent nature, her gift of submission to him could be revoked at any time. But Frederica was happy with their arrangement. She made herself available to him sexually, a
nd he offered her a life of adventure under his care and protection. In her mind she had everything she could want.

  They lay in each other’s arms, breathing in unison until a sharp rap at the door disturbed them. Gaston jumped up, and Frederica pulled the covers over herself modestly, the habits instilled in her by her genteel upbringing stayed with her even on a pirate ship far, far away from her motherland of England.

  “Capt’n,” the quartermaster’s voice rang out from the other side of the door.

  Gaston cracked it open an inch, “Yes?”

  “Looks like we’re about a day away from the meet in the Nassau.”

  “Aye. I’ll be up top in a moment to give orders. Prepare the men.”

  “Aye, Aye Capt’n.”

  Gaston turned and favored Frederica with a look of deep affection. “My apologies, my dear,” he sighed. “Duty calls. Will I see you up on deck later?” He pulled on his breeches and threw on a white shirt followed by his long crimson waistcoat with the gold buttons. Handsome as always, she noticed a crease in his forehead that had become more pronounced as of late. His worries about the Ocean’s Knave’s vulnerable position was taking a toll.

  “Yes. I must attend to my patients first, and then I’ll join you. Hatch said he’d teach me some lessons today.”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “What have you and Hatch cooked up?” he asked pulling on his boots.

  “It’s a surprise so never you mind,” she said, shooing him away.

  “I’m going. I’m going.” He put his arms through the sleeves of his jacket and picked up his three-cornered hat, the one festooned with an enormous purple feather jutting out behind it. His hair hung in dreadlocks down his back, and his features were angled so distinctly they could have been carved from stone.

  Frederica bit back a smile. Gaston’s attire was outlandish; garish even by pirate standards, but his flamboyant, slightly arrogant nature was one of the things she loved about him. The black patch that covered his injured eye gave him an air of mystery that made him appear all the more rakish and alluring.

  He stopped to grant her a formal bow, which made her giggle. Then he blew her a kiss as he closed the door behind him.

  She sat up in bed and hugged her knees to her chest. She was grateful that Gaston had taken her feelings into account when she’d told him that as much as she loved the adventurous part of being a pirate, she didn’t relish harming innocent people, especially since she herself had once been the victim of blood-thirsty pirates.

  Two and a half years ago she had embarked on the Adelaide in England with her companion, Cassandra, on a voyage bound for the American Colonies in the New World. Having always been a spirited girl, Frederica longed for adventure, and so when her parents had passed away and left her with nothing, she had decided to travel to America. Her friend Cassandra and she had planned to find work as governesses in the colonies, but a month into their voyage, the Adelaide had been attacked by a ship known as the Neptune’s Damnation, sailing under the dreaded “jolie rouge.” The ship’s red flag had boasted the symbol of an hourglass, an indication to other ships that their time had run out and they would be shown no mercy.

  When the Adelaide came under attack, Frederica had watched in terror as many of her fellow passengers were murdered. As the carnage unfolded around her, something hit her in the head, and the next thing she knew she had awakened aboard the conquering ship, a captive of its commander, Captain Humphrey.

  Frederica shuddered at the thought of Humphrey and all he had done to her.

  Then, a few weeks into her imprisonment aboard the Neptune’s Damnation, the crew had found Gaston floating along on a piece of refuse and they had hauled him onto the ship. Soon Gaston and Frederica found themselves on Captain Humphrey’s bad side and they had been forced to walk the plank. If it not for Gaston, she would surely have perished.

  Later, Gaston had reunited with his crew and Frederica had needled her way into coming aboard as well, convincing him that the medical knowledge she’d garnered from her father would prove helpful to Gaston and his men.

  Not long after she joined the crew, she told Gaston of her misgivings about attacking innocent people, and he’d laughed at her and asked her with a wry smile what she suggested they do instead. She had proposed that they rob only other pirates.

  After an initial snort of derision, Gaston had paced the room as they discussed the possibilities of her idea. The upside was that often pirate ships were already loaded with treasure they’d intercepted. When the ships were full of plunder they were weighted down. This took away the pirate’s speed and made them easy targets.

  After a few test runs operating under the new plan, they found that not only could they spare the lives of seafaring innocents, which was Frederica’s concern, but they also found that their fellow pirates were relatively easy pickings and offered them great financial reward, which appealed to Gaston’s and the crew’s sensibilities.

  The downside was that they had made enemies with some of the most dangerous, cut-throat bandits in the Caribbean, and this had her and Gaston worried.

  Shaking her head in a futile attempt to dislodge the concerns that resided there, she stood up lazily and stretched like a kitten in a sunny spot. Ambling over to her trunks, she focused on the business of getting dressed.

  She liked taking her time to choose what to wear, because it was one of the few girlish pleasures in her distinctly masculine world. She’d earned many gold doubloons along the way pirating, but Gaston had been generous with her, too. He liked to spoil her, and so she had two trunks filled with lovely clothes. Her wardrobe was more extensive than any other pirate she knew of. And that included Gaston, which was saying a lot.

  Choosing a sapphire blue full skirt and a white blouse, she topped it off with a black lace-up corset vest and her tall, chocolate-colored, leather boots. She was almost finished when there was another knock at the door, “Miss Frederica!” a frantic voice shouted.

  “Yes?” she answered, smoothing her skirt and trying not to sound alarmed.

  “It’s Marcus. ‘E’s awful sick. ‘E’s in the sick bay. Can you come?”

  “Certainly, I’ll be there in a moment.” She looked at herself in the fist-sized piece of mirror she kept. It was one of her prized possessions, as mirrors were a rare find in the Caribbean. Pleased with her reflection, she took a deep breath and steeled herself for whatever horrible ailment awaited her this day.

  Chapter Two

  Frederica knew the main reason she was tolerated by the all-man crew aboard the Ocean’s Knave was not because their Captain appreciated her presence. Rather, it was because she had more medical knowledge than anyone else on the ship. They’d once had a doctor, but he’d been killed in battle before Gaston met Frederica.

  Replacing the doctor had proved next to impossible. It was not an easy task finding a doctor willing to sail with a pirate crew. Most had to be commandeered from a settlement on land or from another vessel. Frederica was a happy exception.

  She’d learned medicine at the knee of her father, an English physician who was quick-minded and influenced more by successful outcomes than whatever medical theory was fashionable at the time. Frederica’s position on the ship was that of doctor, though the men knew she did not technically have the credentials. They’d been skeptical at first, but her kind, bedside manner won them over.

  Most men on the crew had been surprised to witness Frederica’s skill with a cutlass and her cool head during a battle, but they were just as impressed and grateful to see her softer side when she nursed the sick and injured.

  The majority of illnesses and war wounds the men suffered proved fatal. So while she could help alleviate symptoms for some of what ailed the sick, she wasn’t always able to cure them, and it was the nurturing and kindness she showed them that meant the most. For that reason, the crew was loyal to her, and they protected her as they would their own mother.

  Arriving in the sick bay she was confronted with a man who was do
ubled over on one of the cots. Frederica laid a hand on his shoulder. “What’s troubling you Otis?”

  “Arggh! Me belly tis, Miss Frederica,” he said with a groan.

  “Show me where it hurts,” she said. As Otis described his symptoms Frederica nodded, formulating a diagnosis.

  The gripes. She’d had success treating this sort of stomach problem with lavender water. “Lie down and try to rest while I make you up a tonic.” She rummaged through her supplies and found what she needed. She mixed up a cup and gave him a dose. It was a relief to have a patient with something she could treat. The most frustrating thing about her job was that so often there was nothing she could do to improve a patient’s condition.

  When he’d finished it, she took the cup and patted him on the arm. “You just rest now and we’ll see if that doesn’t fix you right up.”

  She checked on her two other patients, also confined to the sick room. Both men had come in a few days ago with fever. There wasn’t much she could do for them except make sure they had rum or whiskey to dull their aches and pains. When they grew too warm she bathed their heads with a cool cloth.

  She found them both sleeping. One man lay peacefully and she took his pulse. Relieved he was still alive, she wiped her brow. It was already hot as Hades in the cramped little room. The other man’s sleep was fitful. He thrashed and mumbled unintelligibly, his body drenched with sweat.

  She frowned. They’d presented with the same symptoms. Her guess was as good as anyone’s which man would have the better outcome, the still one or the flailing one, but she suspected the agitated man stood a better chance of recovery. He was a fighter.

  If only life were that simple. To the contrary, events occurred all the time that appeared to have neither rhyme nor reason behind them—such as the unforeseen and tragic murders of her friend Cassandra and the other passengers on the Adelaide.