The Pirate Queen's Defiled Captive

I stand before Tabitha's desk with my back straight, pulse hammering against the stays of my gown while the ship creaks around us under the heavy Caribbean sun. She took my ship and the last thread of security for my ward, yet it is her low voice that threatens to strip away what little composure remains.

Her fingers trace my wrist as charts slide away, and the weight of watching eyes presses from beyond the door. My sharp replies have held her at bay until now, but the heat that answers her command leaves me trembling before I can form a single word of protest. The lantern catches the edge of wood and I feel my skirts shift with every breath.

The order to bend and part my legs waits in the air between us, and I already know how my body will respond.