Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“What a strong, fearsome man you are.” I chewed each word and spat it between my teeth. “Forcing your lust upon a woman while she’s held down by forty scoundrels. Praise be to God for big, tough Madwulf MacNally. Your kin must be proud.”
With his chest so close to my mouth, I jerked forward and bit down on a hunk of sweat-slick flesh. Hard enough to make him bleed.
His hand swung, colliding with my cheekbone, as he roared with laughter.
I tasted blood, from the bite, from the strike of his fist. Instead of swallowing it, I worked it around with my saliva and spat the whole mouthful at his face.
It landed on the corner of his lips, clinging to the wiry hairs of his red beard. A depraved smile contorted his expression, and his tongue snaked out, licking the blood-tinged spittle.
Then he returned to my bone-dry flesh and the finger that he was jamming harder and faster inside me.
I fought tears and gulped down the impulse to scream. For every sob that burned through my nose, I swallowed three more. I would not cry.
He kicked my legs apart.
There were no atheists in the hangman’s noose. As I faced the first of forty men to take a turn with my body, I found I wasn’t godless, either.
Lips clamped, eyes closed, I prayed to whatever divine being that listened. I didn’t make excuses for my life. Didn’t beg forgiveness for the unchristian things I’d done. Didn’t make solemn promises to be a chaste, obedient woman.
I just asked for strength. Courage. And breath. I needed to keep breathing, no matter how badly it hurt. If I held still and endured, I would get through it. I had to.
Keeping my eyes squeezed shut, I focused on praying and tuned out the vulgar shouting around me. I couldn’t turn off the physical agony, but I didn’t need to watch it or hear it.
Lost in my head, I let my body sag against the grips of brutal men as Madwulf jabbed his erection, searching for my opening. Tears gathered behind my closed eyes, silent and trapped.
Don’t cry. Keep breathing.
Everything inside me wanted to die.
“Open your eyes.” Madwulf grabbed my throat. “Or I’ll peel them—”
A deafening explosion rang through the cage. Dust fell from the rafters. Pirates collapsed to their knees, and a pained scream erupted beside me, bringing my gaze to the man now writhing at my feet.
Blood bloomed from a hole in his thigh and spread a red puddle beneath him.
A gunshot.
Who the devil sneaked a pistol in here?
Madwulf released me, staggering backward. But he didn’t go far. A large blade appeared beneath his chin. Another caught him under the withering sag of flesh between his legs.
Lord Cutler stood behind him, holding both daggers. His eyes, like twin flames of violent blue, roared at me over Madwulf’s shoulder, seizing my breath.
“Which one do you want to keep?” He put those shapely pink lips at Madwulf’s ear. “The beard? Or the beard-splitter?”
“The beard-splitter!” Madwulf strained his eyes downward, trying to see the lethal blade against his penis. “You hear me? Keep my cock!”
“Wasn’t asking you.” Lord Cutler regarded me, his gaze enigmatic.
He wanted me to choose?
His lieutenants flanked him, aiming dragoon pistols. Not one pirate attempted to touch the commodore. They were too frozen in fear.
The starch hadn’t left his expression. But something new flashed across his flawless features, an unnamed emotion, for it was there and gone before I could identify it.
As the wounded man bled out on the deck, his mates continued to restrain me against the wall. No one moved. No one spoke as they stared at the blades that held their captain hostage, waiting for my answer.
Which one did I want Madwulf to keep?
I should choose the beard and let Lord Cutler sever the scoundrel’s manhood, so it could never threaten me again. But when the time came for Priest and me to take command of this ship, we would need a pirate crew to overrun the soldiers and keep them in line.
As much as I hated it, I couldn’t afford to make enemies with these ruffians.
I met Lord Cutler’s incisive eyes and shrugged. “He can keep the pisser.”
With a flick of his wrist, he sliced through the hair at Madwulf’s chin and caught the wiry red nest before it fell.
Then he sheathed his blades. No expression. No fear.
Madwulf growled like an animal and swung away, straightening his trousers. When he turned back, he glowered at me as if this were my fault.
“Honest to God, Madwulf, you look better beardless. Really brings out your long dainty neck. I daresay castration wouldn’t have had the same effect.” I yanked against the hands that held me and hardened my voice. “Now call off your men.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw.
“I want her alive when I deliver her to the gallows.” Lord Cutler clasped his hands behind his back. “But the rest of you? I really don’t give a damn. Release her or…” He glanced at his armed lieutenants. “Don’t.”