Amethyst Rapture by Fey Suarez Page A

easily jumped in and began to row. They covered the distance quickly.
“Wait for me and there’’s another coin for the return,” Carlos said, reaching for a rope ladder hanging down the side of the ship.
The boy looked thoughtfully at the drunken man as he grabbed the ladder on his third try. “I’ll wait,” he decided.
Carlos clumsily made it up the ladder. He’d had a lot of experience climbing in this condition and wouldn’t fall. He climbed the railing and clomped across the deck in his heavy boots. Even with the full moon Carlos tripped over a coil of rope. He cursed the rope and the careless sailor who’d left it there.
Sheila would be grateful to see him. He knew it. His manhood swelled with anticipation as he neared his quarters. The captain opened the door and his eyes grew wide. He’d arrived in time to watch the cabin boy fucking his woman. Jaime pumped himself into Sheila and she shrieked with delight.
“Harder,” she screamed. She had her hands on Jaime’s buttocks, pinching and scratching his cheeks until they were red. Sheila pushed him harder, faster.
Carlos strode to the bed, his head now clear, and yanked the lad from Sheila’s ravenous sex. A milky substance shot from him and landed on Sheila’s stomach, chest and chin.
Sheila opened her eyes. Charles had Jaime in a firm grip. “Why’d you do that?” she demanded, and rested the heel of her had on her mons. She was too excited to stop.
“You’re mine,” Carlos said.
“Get out,” he told Jaime. He didn’t blame the poor boy. Sheila would seduce a monk if she had five minutes alone with him.
“I’m a whore,” Sheila said, closing her eyes to concentrate on her own pleasure. “I was when you met me and I will be until I die.”
“You’re my whore,” Carlos growled.
“I don’t belong to anyone.” Her lower body spasmed and she moaned. Languidly she opened her eyes.
Carlos was acutely aware of his own sex pulsing in his pants. His engorged shaft was throbbing for release. She was wet and he could slip in and out of her, but he ignored the urge. Instead, Carlos picked up Sheila’s clothes and threw them to her. “Get dressed,” he ordered. “I’m going to take care of you once and for all.”
Sheila felt a ripple of fear run down her spine. She’d seen the horrors Carlos was capable of but had assumed he’d never hurt her. It was his fault. If he hadn’t left her with the cabin boy nothing would have happened. He should have taken her ashore with him.
Sheila wiped Jaime’s juices from her body with the sheet and quickly dressed in her masculine trousers and loose-fitting shirt.
She’d put on the left boot and was putting on the other when Carlos dragged her across the room. He pulled her through the dark hall, up the stairs and across the deck. Sheila hopped up the steps on one foot, tugging at the right boot until it slipped into place. Carlos pointed to the rope ladder. “Climb down.”
Is he going to throw me to the sharks? Sheila had seen Carlos mercilessly throw Spanish mariners to the sharks for fun.
“Go.” Carlos pushed her. “Into the rowboat.”
Sheila saw the dinghy waiting at the bottom of the ladder.
“ Vamos! ” Carlos pushed her again.
Sheila carefully climbed down the rope ladder with Carlos right behind her. “Back to shore,” he ordered the young oarsman.
Ashore, Carlos paid the boy a coin and pulled Sheila from the skiff. He strode down the cobblestone street, pulling her in tow.
“Where are we going?” Sheila dared ask.
“I’ve warned to keep your petticoats where they belong, yet I find you time and again with men huffing and puffing between your legs. It won’t happen again.”
Sheila was too frightened to mention that she’d never worn a petticoat. Carlos yanked her down a dark alley. It reeked of rotting animals and human waste. Sheila looked into darkened windows, heard the wails of a young child. A woman screamed. God protect me, she thought.
Carlos pulled Sheila through a low