In a few hours I found myself alone in the Captain's cabin. I woke and found I was tied to the bunk which was bolted to the floor. I struggled against the knot but found it was a strange sort. I couldn't figure it out to untie it.

He’d not been lying when he’d told me that pirates had a knack for tying them.

I’d been working at it for hours and couldn’t get it to release even the merest bit. Damn him.

It occurred to me that already it had been a couple days and I’d not seen the Captain sleep for hours.

When does he rest? Or had that been what he was implying, that he hardly needs to?

I reached everything I could, trying to find something that might aid me in an escape. Fortunately, he'd freed my feet to slide one of his large tunics up my body before he'd left the room. Cautioning that I remain quiet, or he'd have to share me with his men.

A threat he seems to favor.

That thought was terrifying. The idea of them all doing to me what he had, sickened me.

He's insatiable. There was no way I'd survive all of them taking their pleasure from my body as he did.

***

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I could hear him above deck. Barking order to his men in that deep, authoritative voice which seemed to brook no argument.

A voice absent any emotion. A voice which expects obedience.

Coming from the coldest man I’d ever glimpsed.

I heard feet thudding above me. Slapping along the wood as they rushed about. Quick to obey him. Far quicker than I.

That at least, gave me back some grain of dignity. I can keep fighting him.

In whatever small ways I can.

Then I spotted the fork on the floor next to the bed. I swung my legs off and managed to get it onto the bed then up to my mouth and from there to my wrist to pry at the knot.

Thank God it’s a narrow bunk.

It was the only reason I could come close to reaching my wrist with my mouth.

***

I managed to get one knot done then pried the other free with the fork.

Then I heard steps on the stairs and quickly tucked the fork under the coverlet and gripped the ropes, flopping onto my back as I’d been when he left.

But I jumped when I heard the door open. I glanced at the porthole and noticed that the sun was descending. Evening was coming.

And with it he did.

He stood in the doorway like an ominous shadow. Taking in the view of me lying there. His brown eyes alight.

Then he stepped in and lightly kicked the door closed behind him.

“Ah, a pretty Plaything all tied with ribbons.”

Not ribbons. I scowled. Rope.

Damn sharp rope.

It’d already worn a bit into the skin at my wrists.

“You’re despicable.”

“I am that.” He grinned proudly. Offering a half-bow as if I were truly meeting him for the first time.

***

It wasn't nearly long enough before he returned. I thought.

I could’ve found a way out.

“Look at you.” He circled the bed. “So bound and vulnerable. Wondering what I’ll do to you next.”

“I hate you.” I snarled.

“Shame.” He smirked. “I missed you so greatly today.”

“And all of this.” He peeled up the bottom of the tunic to peer beneath. Grunting appreciatively. “Mmm hmm.”

"No!" I flexed a bound hand to ward him off. Dropping the rope, I’d held as I pretended to still be tied.

Fool!

He lifted a dark brow, and his gaze fell to my face.

"Oh, absolutely." He unraveled a long length of rope from around his hand. "Best part of an unwilling woman on a ship?" He lifted it pointedly. "Plenty of rope to tie her down."

I shook my head. "I'll scream, I swear it."

"Shame...I'd hate to share."

***

He descended on me, but I had nowhere to retreat other than the bunk.

I dived over the edge and tried to clamber under it.

But he quickly caught my leg and drug me out. Looking at my bare bottom and legs, revealed by the tunic rolling up where I was pressed to the floor. "That'll do."

He tossed the rope aside and sat on the back of my thighs.

I flailed and tried to kick him with my heels but couldn't get any leverage to deliver a meaningful blow.

I felt him lift off me to slip his pants down and knew I was in trouble.

"No! No. No!" I tossed my head and pounded my fists.

He lay along my back to palm my mouth. Pulling my head back to keep me quiet. He used his knees to wedge my legs apart then sat atop them to keep them pinned open.

I was grunting behind his hand shaking my head furiously. I'm already sore.

He grabbed his stem and angled it against my buttocks. Laying over me so I could feel its pressure. "You ready?"

I was still shaking my head.

"Oh..." He feigned sympathy. "Something to say?"

He peeled his fingers back enough I could shout. "No. Please don't! I'm already sore."

"You gave up the right to be too sore, when you lied to me."