Plippa Georgiana Felton was the Pirate’s prize. Captured on her way to her wedding, she was forced to marry against her will by a pirate bent on revenge against her fiancé. The battle of wills between two powerful men in a high stakes war of which she is the pawn one man loves and the other man wants above all else. Contents: Virgin Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Chaining, Blindfolding, Multiple Orgasms, Man On Top, Woman On Top. All the characters in this story are over 18.
Hugh Pendleton Randolph, himself a fourth generation aristocrat, had done better than my father. He had preserved his estate despite a lavish lifestyle that I had difficulty believing could be sustained. His wife had died years ago and he had lived the life of a roué in London ever since. Rumors abounded about the people he had harmed in his ravenous greed, women whose reputations he had ruined by talking out of school about affairs he had forced on them, landowners he had destroyed – businesses he had bankrupted. Yet he seemed to thrive.
He was in Morocco serving in the Foreign Service when I turned 18. He had been impatient to be wed and had insisted that I travel to meet him. For that purpose I was sailing to the desert country of romance and mystery which drapes across the top western edge of Africa where it brushes against the Atlantic Ocean and stares across the Strait of Gibraltar at the famous Rock. Our wedding was to be held in the immortally poetic city of Casablanca. Were I marrying anyone else I would have been thrilled.
Women of my station have always understood we were chattel to be traded for wealth or position, whichever our families were in need of at any given time. The first two generations of Feltons, who had been formidable business men, had traded wealth for position marrying ladies whose noble families had been in need of money. The last two generations had traded our titles for money to stave off the final collapse of our dwindling fortunes. My sisters and I had a clear understanding of the needs of our family, but I had never expected that my father would give me to a man like Hugh Randolph. It was a clear act of desperation and I hated him for it.