The Pirate and The Thief Ch. 09byLucreace©
There was never a question of choice; she joined the group on the port side of the ship. John followed her with a smile of approval. There was more than enough willing to remain with Jack and Bart, in a little under an hour, Molly was back aboard the Sea Witch and involved with the clean-up. She'd changed her blood soaked shirt before she'd started work on the deck. They'd taken a fair bit of damage from the cannon of the now named Redemption but it all seemed to be surface scratches. Matthew, the ships carpenter, had set to fixing the damage and was organising some of the pirates to help him. Molly was scrubbing the main deck with a stiff brush, clearing the debris and sending it into the sea. The newest crew members had been directed to the bilge pumps, as was the custom for those captured. They'd have to prove themselves before they were trusted around the rest of the ship. Mahoney had remained the Boatswain and John promoted to the new quarter master, resuming the role he had before he'd taken a break from pirating.
"I thought I told you to stay where you were," the Captain said. She'd not heard him approach and she jumped.
"Yes," he said. He leaned against the railing, stretching his long legs in front of him, "You should get Sasha to look at that," he said pointing at her forehead. She touched it with her fingertips and found it had scabbed over.
"It's nothing," she shrugged.
"You were nearly knocked out and you're favouring your left arm. I know too well that you're right handed," he said. She looked up and saw the concern in his eyes. She sighed.
"Don't do this," she said.
"Do what? Enquire how you are after a fight?"
"No, that's not what I meant," she said propping her brush up and leaning on it, "I mean, well..." she let the words trail off when she saw the amused expression on his face. His eyes were smiling at her and at that moment, she hated him. "You put me through hell this past week. I've been given the latest watches and the earliest chores all on your order. You've singled me out and then ignored me and I've hardly slept. I'm tired, sore and annoyed. The last thing I need it you coming over here and irritating me in that way you have about you." She said. She picked up her broom again and resumed sweeping, ignoring his very being.
"So why did you stay?"
"How can you even ask me that?" she said continuing to sweep the already clear deck.
"Maybe I should be more of a bastard then," he said. Molly grunted and scrapped the last of the bits over the side. It brought her within touching distance of the Captain and she caught his lavender scent on the breeze. She shuddered despite herself. Warmth gathered in the bottom of her belly and she took a step back, out of reach. She didn't trust herself. She put a hand to her forehead and stopped a moment. The deck swam a little and she reached out for the rail. "Hey now," the Captain was at her side, gripping her elbow.
"Maybe that bump was a bit harder than I thought," she muttered. The deck did a three sixty turn and before it settled, she'd been scooped up into the Captain's strong arms, "What're you doing?" she whispered so quietly she hardly heard it herself. He carried her across the ship and into his cabin. He laid her on the bed as though she was made of porcelain before leaving. She frowned and closed her eyes; a deep throb pulsed in the centre of her head. She just about heard Sasha when she entered the room. Cool briny water hit her forehead and she screwed her eyes shut.
"She's just had a nasty head blow, rest is what she needs, give her a day and she'll be back to whatever task you throw at her," Sasha said. Her voice was scolding and she heard James agree before dismissing her.
"Here that Moll? You're to stay here until tomorrow," he said. He pulled one of his chairs over to the side of the bed and plonked himself in it.
"Fine, James. I'll go down to my hammock," she said trying to sit. He pushed her backwards into the blankets with a gentle hand.
"I'm feeling a little guilty for working you so hard. Indulge me, stay where you are," he said. His deep voice was soothing and her eyes closed. Despite the swimminess of her vision and the pain in her head, she wanted him lying next to her, not sat in the chair opposite. How could she be so shallow? After everything he'd done to her over the past week. Could she forget a weeks' worth of slogging and lack of sleep over one act of kindness? One that was borne out of guilt at what he'd done. He should feel guilty. He yawned and she stole a look at him through a barely opened eye. He wasn't looking at her at all but gazed down at a large tome which he held in his long hands. His left leg was propped on his right knee and he was reading. Whatever it was must be engrossing because he managed to ignore the black strands that fell over his face. And what a handsome face it was too.
Molly forced her eyes shut, looking and pining over him wasn't going to help anyone, especially the gathering warmth in her crotch. Every beat of her heart she felt with growing intensity. She'd not felt like this for a long long time and she let out a breath through her nose. It sounded like an odd sigh and she heard James move to look at her, "Are you going to sit there and watch me sleep?" she muttered.
"Do you object?"
"What if I do?" He laughed at her response, "I thought as much."
"No Molly, I'll sit here for as long as I can bare being near you, then I shall go and see how the repairs to my ship are coming along. After I shall try and find some other form of distraction until you are well enough to take yourself away to your own space. Then I shall return and see to the other tasks I need to complete before sleeping," he said. As long as he could bear her? Was she that bad? She rolled onto her side and faced away from where he sat. She shut her eyes and blocked out any thought she had of him, he was a jerk anyway. She reminded herself that she was done with men before she drifted off.
When Molly awoke, the cabin was dark save for a small glowing lantern in the corner. She was alone. She sat up, noticing that a blanket had been thrown over her. She didn't get it, how could James go from being so kind to so cruel in the space of minutes? She stretched and climbed out of bed, feeling more awake than she had for days. She knew she should leave. It wasn't her room and James was a jerk. The whole room carried his scent and she revelled in it despite telling herself not to. She crossed the room to his desk and sat in the large chair. It was comfortable and moulded just to his shape. On the desk was the large book he'd been reading earlier. She wasn't very good at letters but the title was a famous one by author Winston Charles. It was Harmony; Molly didn't know the story very well; something about a young maid finding her feet in the world.
Then she spotted the gold model ship Bess had told her about. It was the size of her fist and heavy as sin when she picked it up. The soft light glinted off the edges of the gold sails and the delicate rigging. She turned it over in her hand, examining every detail of the figurine. It was exquisite and Molly knew why Bess would want such an item. She turned it over once more and noticed the inscription on the bottom for the first time. It read Sea Witch. Bess had lied to her about that too then. It wasn't hers and never was. Molly placed it back on the desk and got up. She should go back on deck and find some work to do, she'd not be accused of shirking but then again, she's done her fair share of work over the last week. It wasn't her cabin though and she should be gone.
She looked around once more and noticed a shelf she'd missed the first time she came into the room. She had been rather drunk and distracted after all. She walked over to it and opened the latch. The doors on the shelves swung open and she examined the range of books and trinkets there. The books were a range of titles, most of which she'd never heard of. Molly couldn't help wonder if the volume where his name had come from was there. She skimmed over the titles and turned her attention to the trinkets. They all shone in the light; there must be over one hundred of the little things on the shelf, little animals made of gold, bronze pots, silver boxes, miniature copper pots, brass etchings. Molly dare not guess at the value of such a collection. Bess' words echoed in her mind but Molly couldn't bring herself to take anything, they were so pretty, they belonged together and that's where they'd remain. She was a lousy a thief as she was a fighter. Be that as it may, she shut the shelves once more and latched the doors closed.
Molly was about to make her exit when she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart pounded for a moment and she glanced around. Without knowing why, she jumped into the large armoire and pulled the door shut. She was still wondering why the hell she'd done so when James walked in. She watched through the small crack in the doors as he crossed the room and sat on the bed. She had no idea what time it was but she guessed it was late. He shrugged off his heavy frock jacket and tugged off his boots. He leaned back on the bed and let out a large sigh. Molly watched as he grabbed the blanket she'd been lying under, he curled it round his hands before bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. Was he breathing in her scent as she'd been breathing in his? He threw the blanket to the floor and sat up. He crossed the room and sat in the chair behind his desk. Molly couldn't make out what he was doing but it was probably reading the book.
Molly tried to shift her weight in the cupboard without making a sound; her foot was beginning to cramp. She held her breath and moved slowly, not wishing to be discovered hiding, it would lead to questions that she didn't have the answers to. James stood and walked the length of the cabin, first one way, then the other and back again. Sometimes he ran a hand through his hair, others with his hands folded over his chest. He stopped once to pick the blanket from the floor, folded it and placed it at the end of the bed. James slammed a fist down on the bedpost and swore, "Name of the Twelve James Hook, she's just a girl, snap out of it."
So he was smelling the blanket! Good. He'd been as annoyed as she was. But then, if he did feel some attraction for her, why had he so carelessly tossed her aside after that one night of wonderfulness? A night she was eager to repeat. She turned her attention back to the keyed up captain. He'd thrown himself back onto the bed and ripped his shirt over his head. It now lay discarded on the cabin floor like a piece of crumpled sail. She watched as he unbuttoned his black trousers and slid them down over his narrow hips. There was something unbelievably desirable about the way his long legs emerged and kicked the unwanted fabric onto the floor. When she turned her eyes back to James, her breath stuck in her throat. She allowed her eyes to roam over his mostly naked body, take in its contours in a way she hadn't appreciated the other night. Molly wanted nothing more than to run her hands over his broad chest and slip a hand down the front of his linen smallclothes. Her eyes paused there for a long moment, unable to stop ogling the already substantial bulge. The fabric strained some more as James ran his flat palm over his chest.
A deep throb pulsed in the deep place between Molly's legs and she began to melt. The slippery sensation delighted her and she looked on to see what James would do next. She chewed a fingernail as he pushed the remaining cloth from his body and onto the floor. His cock sprang free, Molly let out a breath, keeping it slow and steady so he wouldn't hear her. His large fingers splayed out over his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. His leg furthest from her was hitched up, giving her a perfect view of what he was doing to himself. He seemed to idly roll his balls around in the palm of his hand, not bothered about the pleasure he was denying himself. He spat into his other hand before wrapping it around his long shaft. He gave a couple of lazy tugs before glancing around the room. His eyes passed the closet, pausing for the briefest moment. Did he know? Molly couldn't focus on that thought; all she could see was his hand pumping the shaft of his engorged cock. The purple head looked slick already and she so wanted to climb out the cupboard and wrap her lips around it. James pushed his head back into the pillow and bucked his hips with a groan. Molly's eyes were fixed on the head of his shaft and the bead of moisture that gathered there. She had to concentrate on her breathing so as not to get caught but it was getting more and more difficult. She'd never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him now.
James' thrusts became more irregular, Molly knew what was coming next and she wasn't disappointed. A jet of thick white cream erupted from his cock; he gripped the root of his cock in a firm hand and the first pulse was followed by another, and another. After a moment, he let out a sigh through his nose and turned his head to face the cupboard, "You can come out now," he said.
Molly did as she was told, "How did you...?"
"I've known since I got in here, no one saw you leave." Molly flushed a brilliant red. "Come over here girl." She followed his instructions and came to stand at the middle of the bed, near his arm. "Did you enjoy that?" he asked. She nodded. He sat up then and thrust a hand down the front of her pants. He pressed a long finger against her sodden pussy, "Gods you did didn't you." Molly let out a heavy breath as he pushed his fingertip against her clit. He slid a finger inside her for a moment before languidly pulling his hand away. Molly pouted. "Oh no, you've had the pleasure of watching me, I think you owe me the same, don't you?"
"What?" she said, finding her voice.
"Oh, you heard me. I want you to remove every last item of clothing you're wearing and then touch yourself. I need a bit of rekindling and that should do nicely." Molly glanced down at his cock. If he thought that needed work... She swallowed. The grin he wore was wolfish and he looked her up and down. She gave a little shrug then painted a smile on her own face. She pulled her pants down over her hips and kicked them off with her boots too; leaving her wearing the large shirt he had given her. Crossing the floor to the chair, she sat herself down and propped her legs on the edge of the bed. She parted them and smiled inwardly as James adjusted his position.
This was like something she'd done for those clients who had a mind for more than just a fucking. She ran her hand down her thigh and relished the jump in her pussy, a slight tensing in the anticipation of the pleasure to come. Her hand worked up to the apex of her thigh and parted the slick folds. A gasp stuck in her throat as she pressed the tip of her finger against her already wet swollen clit. Sparks jumped through her and she let her head fall back against the high back. Heated shackles entwined her ankles as she pressed harder on her soft nub. The fabric of her shirt grazed against her protruding nipples and she longed to have James' teeth on them instead. Nibbling and tugging at the tender flesh as she pushed against her slick core. Her thoughts turned to what he could be doing with that cock of his at the same time and she moaned a little. "That good huh?"
"Uh-Hu," she said.
"Tell me your thoughts, what makes it so good?"
"You do. At this moment, I am thinking on what you could be doing instead of what you are doing," she said, letting her breath make her words heavy. She couldn't have kept the desire out of her voice if she wanted to. The thought of his touch on her again was almost enough to send her over the edge.
"Oh, and what am I doing?" he asked. The sound of skin grazing on skin echoed through the cabin. Molly shuddered as her rough hand scrapped over her sensitive clit. The vision of him exploded into her mind as she increased the pressure and a gasp escaped her. His hand encircled her wrist and pulled it away from her slick centre. She'd not even heard him move. Pulling her upright, his mouth found hers; his tongue lashed into her mouth and beat furiously against hers. His taste flooded her, his soft hair fell across her face. Thrusting her hands through the black locks, she drove her own tongue deep into his mouth, forcing him closer to her. Hands gripped her backside and hoisted her up, she wrapped her legs around James' waist and he strode across the room with her. With one sweep of his hand, he cleared the table. There was the crash of something heavy hitting the deck but she hardly noticed. The wood of the table scrapped against her lower back for a moment, then he was inside her, filling her so deeply she let out a cry.
Unable to stop he thrust into her, Molly grunted as she became accustomed to his invasion. As he bucked his hips, she lifted her own with every rise. The slap of his thigh against her ass sent a shiver through Molly, "God's," she muttered as he thumbed one of her nipples. Her hands raked down his strong back and he groaned into her mouth. A hand curled under her back, Molly arched it and the angle of his long strokes sent ripples of fire through her core. She broke contact with his mouth and gulped down a swallow of air. The dizzying sensation made her head lurch. His hair tickled her neck as he nuzzled into her shoulder. A guttural moan erupted from Molly's mouth; his deep thrusts sent hot sheets through her. She surrendered into the heat. Warmth flowed from her legs and up into her chest. Crushing weight clamped her chest; the only release was to let notes flow from her mouth. His breath was hot on her cheek and she no longer cared about the damage being done. She was going to be bruised where his hand clamped her wrist, where he was driving her into the table. Her fingers entwined in his silky hair, gripping it at the nape of his neck; she pulled it and sank her teeth into his shoulder. Biting down as his thrusting took on a wild tempo. Her hips met his every crash. It was warm, too warm, smooth, like lying in the sea. He moaned and her eyes rolled back. The world went white for a moment, an eternity. She gripped his cock with her slick cunt and felt the first pulses deep inside her core. His cry drifted past her as though it was far away and lights burst in front of her eyes. Her breath came in rapid pants and the wave of her orgasm claimed her. In that moment, she knew he was his. Slick sheets of moisture cascaded over his shaft and as she rode the wave that cascaded over her she forced jets of come out of him.
The second wave of her orgasm brought waves of red silk over her. She bit her lip, bruising the tender kiss ravaged flesh, "Oh God's," she cried. Her fingers gripped the edge of the table and she felt as though she was drowning in the great ocean beneath them. She convulsed, her back arched and finally she stilled. James looked down into her eyes and she gave a weak smile. Molly noticed for the first time that he was breathing as hard as she was. He ran a thumb along her jawline and gave her lips a gentle kiss. He picked her up and carried her off the table and over to his large bed. The soft blankets met her naked form -- somewhere along the way she'd lost her shirt, it now lay on the floor along with the rest of her discarded clothing -- and she relaxed. James lay next to her and idly ran a finger along her side.
"Does this mean you're going to be a bastard all over again?" she asked snuggling into his warmth.
"Last time this happened, I spent the week doing the crappest job you could think of and I didn't even get to see you," she said.
"No, not this time," he said smoothing her hair down. He kissed her neck and held her close.