Chapter Twelve: Sweet Treachery

Mary rolled over in bed, sighing as she ran her hand across the empty pillow beside her. She hadn't heard Marco getting up, but she was pleased because she knew she had a board meeting later that morning and she didn't want to oversleep.

"What time is it?" she asked, rolling over on her back and smiling as the dark, dangerous Italian male approached the bed. Marco had obviously showered. She could smell the musk of his cologne and see the dampness in his dark hair. He was wearing a fresh white t-shirt over his massive chest.

"Time for us to take a little trip," Marco growled. He had something in his hand, something shiny and metallic. "Hold out your hands, precious."

"Silly," Mary murmured, lazily holding out her hand. She thought Marco was going to help her out of bed, or maybe kiss her hands the way he had the night before. He'd kissed her hands, and her feet, and her elbows, and her knees . . .

"Now you're my prisoner," Marco growled. "My name is Black Bart, and I'm a pirate!"

"You're not a pirate," Mary giggled. She tugged on the handcuffs, but Marco had somehow attached one to each hand and then fastened them to the bed posts. "Marco, this isn't funny. We have a board meeting at nine o'clock!"

"Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like?" Marco asked. "Having your ship boarded? Your treasures looted? Being at the mercy of a ruthless beast that lives by robbing and killing?"

"Of course I've wondered what it would be like!" Mary frowned, her knowledge of history making her visualize herself in the situation he described. "I'm certain that you and I can play this game some other time."

"Ah, but this time it's not a game," Marco growled, climbing onto the bed. "You aren't really in my bedroom; you're on a pirate ship. And the waves are rocking us back and forth, and you can smell the sea and hear the creaking timbers."

"Mm," Mary closed her eyes, drawn into the moment in spite of herself. After all, this was only a game, and they had plenty of time to play around before they went to the meeting. "I wonder when I'll ever be rescued!"

"No rescue," the pirate whispered, pressing a kiss to the bare curve of her breast. "Tied up in my cabin, you will have to learn to satisfy all my beastly desires. No matter how sweaty and exhausting the task might seem to a true lady!"

"I will never give in to you," Mary murmured, her blood fired by the idea of defying a fierce pirate. She wondered what tortures he had in store for her if she disobeyed him.

"Your lush, tempting body is all mine." Marco covered the trembling captive with kisses, and over a long, slow upward arc he caressed her nakedness entirely with his lips and tongue. From her ankles, to her knees, to her thighs, he made sure that every inch of her was his. Then he found the golden tangle of curls between her thighs.

"Oh, no. No! Oh, yes . . ." Since her hands were tied, Mary could do nothing to defend herself from the pirate's plundering tongue. She felt the heat and wetness of her own body, signaling humiliating defeat and treacherous surrender.

But instead of setting fire to her at once, the pirate made her burn with slow strokes of his tongue, coming closer and closer to the nub of her desire but devilishly refusing to provide the final spark. It seemed like hours and hours were dragging past, and Mary moaned and tossed and murmured incoherent words, begging and pleading for her final release.

And then . . . and then . . . . and then at last came the flare of burning uncontrollable release, the roaring flames consuming her in a massive blaze. Mary moaned and wept and wanted more, and more, and still more, unaware of anything now but the pirate's utter mastery of her senses.

Unending pleasure broke over her in waves of pure sensation, drowning the flames of yearning that had engulfed her. Mary knew that Marco was prolonging her climax, his sweet treachery making the madness of passion go on and on until she was drained of all energy, all thought, all will-power, completely spent and completely his.

"Sweet dreams, baby," the pirate whispered, unsnapping her bonds.

And Mary slept.