Isalba shuffled silently around the cozy room, preparing a space for the tray of breakfast that would soon be delivered.  She was already dressed, having made the trip downstairs to order the meal.  Megan was fast asleep, tucked almost completely under the bedclothes with only the top of her blonde head peeking out.  It was just as well, since she was naked beneath the sheets and Isalba was uncertain if the server delivering their meal would be male or female.

It was just past dawn, though dark clouds obscured the risen sun, lending the appearance of twilight to the outdoors and their room.  As she moved about, she lit a few candles, leaving the lanterns hanging on wall brackets alone, fearing they might be too harsh for the early hour.  The room bore one small table with a wash basin, and another slightly-larger one on which she had tossed her weapons the night before.  Quietly, she moved the weapons to the windowsill, laying her sword, two pistols, and three daggers out in a line that covered the narrow shelf from one end to the other.

Her task complete, she looked around one more time, wishing she had a vase of flowers to add to the admittedly-nice room.  Thin ivory-toned curtains fluttered at the partly-open windows and a soft sheepskin rug covered the well-polished wooden floor next to the bed.  A neat row of hooks were on the wall near the foot of the bed, where she had hung their clothing, after she awoke to find several garments still tossed about the room from the frenzy of their coupling the night before.

Smiling, her stomach fluttered in pleasant memory and she laughed quietly to herself, recognizing familiar physical desire and admitting new sensations and emotions that could only be linked to the love she knew she felt for Megan.  A part of her felt like that fourteen-year-old kid who had been led up the stairs for her first foray into the world of adult pleasure.  Sex was familiar. The bone-deep emotions she was experiencing were a whole new territory and she wasn't entirely sure how to conquer it, or if she should simply give in and let it conquer her instead.

Dark thoughts just as quickly rose as she replayed the prior day in her head: a series of unpleasant flashbacks and a roiling in her guts.  Timothy's face haunted her, his eyes so full of judgment and a world-weariness too great for someone his age.  She knew that look; she saw it anytime she saw her own reflection.  His anger washed over her even now.  She could taste his rage as if it were her own, though they had each chosen very different ways to channel their energy.

And what had she done?  After he told her what she had done, what she had taken from him, she turned a cold shoulder to him, threatening those who now cared for him if they didn't bend to her will.  What had she said?  'As long as these men leave Tia and her family alone, you need not fear my return to this place.  Perhaps you will help see to it that I have no reason to.'

"I am a heartless bastard," she chastised herself.

"What are you mumbling about?"  Megan's muffled voice startled Isalba and she jumped a little.

"You are awake." Isalba sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers down just enough to see Megan's face.

Tired green eyes squinted back at her and Megan looked around the room, then gingerly grasped the blanket and pulled it back up over her head.  " 'Tis too early.  You should get back in bed with me and keep me warm."

"Now that is a tempting offer."  Isalba leaned over, pulling the covers down again and pecking Megan's lips.  "However -" she sat up.  "It is actually past sunrise.  The rain still falls and so it remains dark."

"And we are in a hurry? Why?"  Megan glared at her.

"Well."  Isalba tweaked Megan's nose.  "I do need to get back to the ship before the men forget who is in charge. But our breakfast is on the way.  Much as I would love to ravish you once more before we leave, I do not think you would appreciate showing off your considerable charms to a perfect stranger."

"I do not understand." Megan frowned in sleepy confusion.

At that moment, a light rapping sounded at the door.  "Breakfast," Isalba informed her.

"I am naked!" Suddenly wide awake, Megan sat up and the covers fell down around her waist, exposing her upper body.

"Yes, you are." Isalba grinned and reached over, circling a breast with her fingertip.  She gave Megan a gentle push back down and tugged the covers back up to her chin.  "But no one need know but me.  Stay put."

"Isaaaaaa!" Megan wailed mournfully.

Isalba chuckled.  "It will be fine." She opened the door a crack and looking back at Megan, decided to take pity on her.  "I shall relieve you of that." She reached for the tray full of food.

A young man no older than Megan looked at her uncertainly. "If you wish, m'lady, I am to place it on the table for you."

"No, it is alright. My companion —" she glanced over her shoulder at the lump of Megan's form now burrowed out of sight.  "— is asleep.  Please, give it to me."

"M'lady," the boy protested. "I have the strictest of instructions as to treatment of our guests, particularly for this, our best room. If my master were to learn I had allowed you the burden of it —"

Isalba rolled her eyes and stepped closer, topping him by several inches.  "Do I look weak to you?"  She held her arms out to her sides and looked down at herself, then back up.  Her shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing a good length of corded forearm on each side.

"No, m'lady."  The boy gulped and offered her the tray.

"Hold on."  Isalba took it from him and placed it on the table, then rummaged through her pouch, pulling out some coin.  Leaning back out the door, she gave him his tip and sent him on his way, then closed the door and bolted it.

"That smells good."  Megan re-appeared and eased out of bed, approaching the table with great interest.  "Mmmm, flapjacks. Oh, and hot tea.  I will get dressed and join you."

"Pity that."  Isalba gazed appreciatively at Megan's naked form.  "You could sit on my lap and I could feed you."

"But it is a little cool in here." Megan rubbed her arms. "At least let me put my shirt on."

"Oh, very well."  Isalba sighed in mock grievance.

"You poor thing." Megan tisked at her.  She laced up her shirt and returned to Isalba's side.  "If it will appease you, I can still sit on your lap."

"Appease me?"  Isalba sat down and snagged Megan, hauling her into her lap as the younger woman shrieked with unexpected laughter.  They tussled for a moment, Isalba careful to brace her legs on the floor so they didn't go flying off the chair.  They ended up in a lingering embrace, Megan's arms wrapped loosely around Isalba's neck as they explored each other's lips in an intimate morning greeting.  "Oooo." Isalba ran her hand up Megan's thigh. "You did not put on your underthings."

"Heh."  Megan shifted, straddling Isalba's lap, then dove in for another kiss.

For the time being, breakfast and Timothy and being a ship's captain became irrelevant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later they returned to the ship, Isalba guiding Megan up the ladder with a hand at the small of her back.  Their appetites sated on several levels, they laughed, exchanging quick jabs at each other and sharing general silliness.  The rain had moved on and the clouds had cleared, and it was turning out to be a beautiful tropical morning.  Once her feet were planted solidly on the deck, she paused, her mood suddenly gone foul.

In the corner of the upper deck sat Giles and Drake, each of them with a tavern whore at his side. Or more accurately, in his lap, in Drake's case.  All four were laughing uproariously, sharing a jug of rum, as the men smoked their pipes.  As she watched, the woman in Drake's lap snuggled up closer to him, her hand sliding up his thigh and heading for —

"What in the hell is going on here?!"  Isalba roared, crossing the deck and yanking the woman from Drake's lap, stopping just short of shoving her to the ground.  "I do not recall revoking the rules."  She looked from Drake to Giles to Harry.

"Captain."  Harry climbed down from the crow's nest where he had been working, and joined her, standing just out of her reach.  "I tried to warn them, but they would not listen."

"Isalba."  Giles removed his arm from around his companion's waist and stood.

"What did you call me?" Isalba's nostrils flared in anger, her face stony with rage.

"Pardon me, Captain."  Giles corrected himself.  "The whole ship knows of your relationship with Megan.  No offense, Lady Megan."  He ducked his head politely in Megan's direction.

The blush that crept up Megan's face resembled nothing less than a severe sunburn.  She looked at Isalba, then at Harry, and then looked down, crossing her arms over her chest, obviously mortified.  Equally obvious was her uncertainty, given the circumstances, if she should flee to their cabin and away from knowing eyes.

"You do realize you will be lucky to live to see tomorrow?"  Isalba's eyes were icy as she fixed her gaze on Giles' face.  "I will deal with your apology to Megan in a moment, after I deal with this.  First of all, you have not been with Megan and me, have you? Unless you admit to having spied upon us, in which case I will be feeding you to the sharks in short order."

"Oh, Captain, come now." Giles attempted to lighten the situation, failing miserably.  "Out of respect for the lady, I will refrain from stating the obvious, but the men are no fools.  You cannot have female companionship on board and tell us we cannot do the same."

"You forget your place." Isalba's tone was dangerous.  "I am the Captain and the last time I checked, I still make the rules on board my ship."

"Captain."  Harry carefully avoided referring to her in his usually-familiar way.  "May I have a word with you?  Over there?" He gestured toward the wheel.

Something in Harry's demeanor, a warning, took a small bit of wind from Isalba's sails.  With a jerk of her head, she agreed, passing him and leading the way back to the helm, where Harry bent close to her to speak.  "You have never asked the men to do what you were not willing to do yourself," he reminded her.

"I cannot have the men dragging all manner of women onto my ship.  It would create chaos.  You know this," Isalba argued back.

"Yes, well, I tried to tell them as much, but they insist that by your actions, you have changed the rules.  'Salba —"  He looked over at Megan, who peered timidly back at them, obviously unsure of where she should be at that moment.  "You know I am fond of Lady Megan, and I would be the last man on this ship to discourage you from following your heart, but you must admit, it is going to be difficult to maintain your position with the men if they feel you withhold something from them unfairly. It could eventually lead to mutiny."

Isalba sighed, crossing her own arms and looking down for a moment, thinking.  "You are right," she muttered bitterly under her breath. She dug at a knothole in the decking with the toe of her boot, weighing her options.  Resigning her position was not appealing, and Timothy be damned, she wasn't ready to take up residence on dry land just yet.  And giving up what she had just found with Megan certainly wasn't an option.  But, she grudgingly acknowledged, even if she treated Megan like a nun in public, the men were not fools, as Giles had pointed out.  They shared a cabin and there was no denying that things had changed.  Taking Megan away to the cave overnight, and now returning with her after yet another night away from the ship had made that plain.

A thought occurred to her and she looked at Harry with an evil grin.  "Yes, you are right," she repeated.  Standing tall she straightened her jacket, a decision made. 

The two whores were making their way toward the gangplank, and Megan was easing slowly toward the hatch for their cabin.  "Megan, stay." Isalba waved her back.  "You two ladies as well."

With purposeful stride she made her way back to Giles and Drake, with Harry at her heels.  "Very well." She swept her arm in an arc, indicating the two uncertain women who were eyeing her as if she were the devil.  "I have changed the rules.  They may stay."

"Really?"  Drake's eyes grew wide in surprise.

"Captain?"  Harry practically squeaked.

Giles smiled drolly.  "I thought you would see it my wa —"

"On one condition," Isalba cut him off.  "You."  She pointed to one of the women, a buxom brunette with her hair piled high on her head, a hint of rouge at her cheeks.  "You see that sail up there?" She pointed up toward the neatly-secured main mast. "The one that is rolled up?"

"Y - yes."  The woman stuttered.

"Climb up and unfurl it."  Isalba crossed her arms.  "Go on." She tapped her foot impatiently.

"Beg your pardon?" The woman took a step back.  "Have you gone daft?"

"Perhaps."  Isalba looked to Megan.  "Meg, climb up and unfurl the mast."

Megan just stared at her for a long moment, then understanding dawned. "Yes, Captain."  She crossed the deck and climbed up the pegs embedded on either side of the mast.  Reaching the yard arm, she carefully hauled herself across it and shimmied to its end, then began painstakingly sliding backward, untying ties as she went, releasing the sails, which rolled swiftly downward with a snapping sound.  Finishing the task, she climbed back down and practically marched back to Isalba's side. "Done, Captain."

"Good work," Isalba praised her. "So, no unfurling of masts for you ladies?"

The two women stared at her, mouths agape.

"No?" Isalba went on smugly, fighting to maintain her stern composure. "Very well." She stepped to the ship's railing and gave a tug to a fishing line, then yanked it up. On its end was a fat sea bass that flopped and twisted in her grasp as she freed it from the hook.  "Here." She thrust the struggling creature in the other woman's face, causing a bit of seaweed to fly into her blonde hair. "Kill and prepare this fish for frying."

"You have gone quite mad," the woman replied, glancing over at Drake, who was looking at Isalba as if she had, indeed, lost her mind.

"Captain, really —" Drake protested.

"Shut up, Drake."  Isalba glared at him.  "Meg."   She tossed the fish across and Megan managed to catch it, ignoring the slimy scales that smeared across her shirt. 

Getting the fish under control with one arm, she approached Isalba. "May I borrow your dagger, Captain? Mine is below decks. I do hope you will not punish me for not having my weapons at the ready. " She peered at the other two women, feigning fear, playing into Isalba's game.

"Oh, but of course you may borrow my dagger."  Isalba suppressed a smirk and bent over, then pulled the knife from her boot, brandishing it in front of the two women's fearful eyes.  With a wicked grin, she made as if she was going to toss it to Megan, then at the last moment moved close enough to hand it to her. "I shall forego punishment this time. Do not let it happen again."

"Yes, Captain. Thank you for showing me mercy." Megan grabbed the fish by the tail and smacked it hard against a support beam to kill it, then laid it out across a barrel where she quickly cut off its head and tail, then sliced it open and scooped out the entrails, which she tossed over the railing.  "May I be of further service, Captain?"  Megan's eyes were full of mischief.

Isalba just kept herself from making a bawdy remark. "Not just yet, but please stay."  Turning, she paced back and forth in front of the two women.  "Have you ever worked on a ship?" She stopped short and spun around to face them.  "Swabbed a deck?" 

They shook their heads.

"Mended a net?"

More head-shaking.

"I see."  She paused and drew her pistol, offering it over to the brunette.  "See that rum bottle over there sitting on that barrel?"

"I — yes." The woman was looking at the pistol as if it might bite her.

"Are you a good aim?"

"What in bloody hell?"  The woman moved to Giles' side.

"Captain?" Giles finally found his voice.  "Surely you cannot expect a woman to —"

"Oh, but I can.  Meg?"

"Captain?"

Without a word, she held out the pistol and Megan moved close to take it. "Don't miss," she whispered in Megan's ear, glad now for the shooting lessons she'd grudgingly given.

"Hmmmph." Megan sniffed and lifted the weapon, tilting her head to look down its barrel.  She took aim and pulled the trigger, and the bottle exploded, splattering rum everywhere and shattering into dozens of pieces, littering the deck.

Returning to Isalba, Megan reached over and dug into one of Isalba's pockets, retrieving a small round lead ball.  "What are you doing?"  Isalba squirmed at the unexpected invasion.

"You taught me to always immediately reload my weapon, Captain."  Megan made quick work of doing just that, then handed back the pistol. "Because you never know when you will need to use it again."

"Ah, very true." Isalba reholstered her weapon. Turning back to her four near-captives, she placed her hands on her hips and looked skyward, mumbling.  "No mast unfurling.  No fish-cleaning. No deck-swabbing or net-mending.  And you cannot shoot. You see, Megan can do all those things, and to stay on my ship, you must be able to pull your weight.  I cannot think of anything you could do. Unless —"  She brightened considerably, her face completely transformed with a dazzling smile. "But of course!" She slapped her own forehead.  "I know a task all women are capable of.  Meg, take them to the head and have them help you empty the buckets."

"Oh - oh-ho-ho!" Harry sputtered and began to laugh uncontrollably, no longer able to hold back.

"Isa?"  Megan's mouth flew open, then snapped close with an audible click of her jaw.  She dared not look at Harry for fear she would be rolling on the deck in mirth beside him.  "Ladies, follow me, please."

The two women stood rooted in place.  "What is a 'head'?" The blonde asked in a nasally voice.

"Come. I will show you."  Megan curled her finger and gestured.  "Hurry up.  She has given her orders and you do not want to make her angry, trust me."

Uncertainly, the two women followed after her, disappearing down the hatch and out of sight.

Giles approached Isalba, his anger obvious. "Captain, the men were out at the taverns all night.  The head will be putrid with filth.  You cannot possibly expect —"

Twin horrified shrieks pierced the air, growing louder by the second.  The hatch door flew open and both women came screaming up on deck.  The blonde was holding her nose and the brunette just made it to the railing before she retched violently.

"Eww." Isalba wrinkled her nose.

Wiping her mouth, the woman turned to Isalba, hand hauled back as if to slap her.  Growing closer, she thought better of it and stopped.  "I — I — "

"Come, Sadie."  The blonde grabbed her arm.  "We must be going now.  Maybe we will see you boys tonight."  With a little wave of her free hand, she tugged Sadie away and they both went scrambling down the ladder and across the dock to the beach.

"Oh, 'Salba!" Harry could hold back no longer and gave her a slap on the back.  "I would have paid for such entertainment.  Well done."

"Yes, well."  Isalba turned as Megan appeared with a bucket, the stench wafting across the deck.  "Oh, Meg. I did not mean for you to actually empty those.  Drake!"  She snapped her head toward Megan.

"Yes, Captain." Drake quickly relieved Megan of the nasty container and took it down to the aft railing where he dumped it overboard.

"Thank you, Drake." Megan sat down, running her fingers back through sweat-dampened hair.

"Harry."  Isalba leaned back against the support pole Megan had used to kill the fish. Crossing her feet at the ankles, she eyed Giles.  "Let the men know there is a new rule on board ship.  The men are allowed overnight companionship in their quarters, but only if the woman — or man — can perform the tasks of a sailor.  Unless it is a case of providing temporary shelter from harm, as we did for the nuns, no one on my ship gets a free ride.  If you are to stay overnight, male or female, you must be as able to take a turn at the duty roster."

"But, Captain, it is not fair," Giles protested. "Megan is not like most women.  The men will be hard-pressed to find a woman that can do such things."

"That is the men's problem," Isalba replied evenly.

"But she sleeps with you!"

"I should cut your tongue out." Isalba stood and circled him. "Yes, she sleeps with me, and has shared my quarters from the day she first set foot on this ship.  Everyone has their assigned berth on board, and in most cases it is a berth they must share.  Megan shares mine.  End of discussion."

"Captain —"  Giles face was red with anger.  "It is not fair!"

"Pack your things." Isalba got in his face, giving him a shove.

"Captain?"  He stumbled backward, looking up at her in complete surprise.

"You heard me.  Submit to Angus' whip, or pack your things!" She angrily came after him as he scrambled away from her. "I will not have you talking back to me, Giles. I won't!  I am still the Captain of this ship and I will not have you causing trouble for me.  Pack. Your. Things.  Now!" 

She drew her sword and he backed farther away.  His face hard with anger, he shoved past Harry and dove down the hatch, slamming it closed behind him.

"See to it that he is off this ship in ten minutes."  Isalba re-sheathed her sword.  "And post extra guards for the remainder of our stay here."

"Yes, Captain."  Harry glanced over at Megan, who smiled weakly back at him. "Well done, Lady Megan."  He held out his hand and she waved him off.

"Thank you, Harry, but my hands are still a bit fishy." Megan stood, wiping them on the tail of her soiled shirt.  "Isa, I need a bath.  Can we go swimming?"

"After that performance, you may have anything you like."  Isalba draped an arm across her shoulders.  "Come on, sailor.  Let us gather a change of clothing and a cake of soap, and go find a swimming hole."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Chapter 19

Late afternoon shadows painted stripes across the quiet cove, an inlet where a freshwater stream met the salty sea.  Megan lay stomach down on a blanket on the bank, her cheek resting on her crossed forearms.  Eyes closed, she could hear Isalba swimming somewhat quietly around, and overhead tropical birds called out to one another, occasionally flying down and skimming the water’s surface, trolling for minnows and water bugs to feast upon.  A light breeze drifted over her skin, driving the otherwise stagnant heat from her cozy shelter in the shade of a palm tree.

They had not intended to stay all day.  There were things to do, after all.  A ship to tend to.  Remaining repairs to oversee.  Plans to travel or stay through spring to be made.  And yet there they were, several hours later, still enjoying the quiet solitude of their little hideaway.  Megan had asked twice if they should be getting back to the ship.  Both times Isalba had muttered about her responsibilities, only to drift off again to some internal place to brood.  After that Megan had given up, telling herself that Isalba was the captain, she obviously had some things to think about, and who was she, Megan, to try to persuade her lovely companion to get dressed and leave the beautiful spot?

Rolling her head lazily from one side to the other, she opened one green eye and smiled.  At that moment, Isalba was standing waist-deep in the water, hands on her hips, looking down intently at something beneath the clear surface.  Water droplets covered her bronze skin and the sunlight filtered down through the branches overhead, dusting across her damp body and making it shimmer like diamonds.  Megan sighed.  No, getting dressed was definitely overrated.

As if she sensed she was being watched, Isalba looked over her shoulder at Megan and flashed a warm, inviting smile.  She raised one finger and beckoned, and Megan automatically stood.  "What is it?"

"Shhhhh." Isalba moved her finger to her lips.  "Enter the water slowly and quietly."

Her curiosity sufficiently piqued, Megan waded in, careful not to splash around too much.  Reaching Isalba’s side she looked down, following her gaze.  "Oh," she couldn’t help but gasp.  In the shallows several baby sea turtles were swimming, tiny flippers rotating back and forth as they nibbled at plants growing just beneath the surface.

"Here."  Isalba reached down and scooped one up, holding it carefully in her palms for Megan’s inspection.

It looked around in surprise at its sudden change of location, then cautiously extended its neck as Megan held out a finger in greeting.  Carefully, she stroked its shell, then withdrew her hand. "How darling it is." 

"You like that, do you?"  Isalba lowered her hand back to the water and the turtle swam away to re-join its siblings.

"I have always lived near the sea, but never have I seen as much of what lies beneath until I met you."  Megan smiled in wonder, leaning over for closer observation.  Along with the turtles, several small brightly-colored fish darted about, flashing purple, orange, and blue scales as they hungrily went after particles too small for Megan to see.

"Meg, I have been swimming in the waters off the coast of Ireland, and not by choice.  No man in his right mind would go diving into those frigid waters."  Isalba knelt down next to Megan, "As for Virginia Colony, 'tis too murky there to see much of what lies below the waves."

" 'Tis brackish," Megan agreed with her.  "Isa, what troubles you so?" She abruptly changed the subject.  "That boy?  Timothy?"

"Am I so transparent?"  Isalba sighed. "Yes.  And the men.  I feel as if I have lost all control."  She trailed her fingertips lightly across the surface of the calm water, stirring up ripples.  "I should be bothered by that."

"But you are not?"  Megan refrained from smiling.  "Other things on your mind, perhaps?"  She looked at her lover and the smile escaped, matching the one on Isalba’s face.

"Something like that."  Isalba shook her head.  "If I am not careful, I will lose my ship."

"Those who are loyal to you would never allow it," Megan disagreed.

"Those who are loyal might have no choice if I were to lose in battle," Isalba gently corrected her.

"I do not believe you would lose."  Megan eased closer, placing a hand on a sun-kissed shoulder. She gave it a squeeze.  You are amazing with your sword, you know that, do you not?  And here." She tapped Isalba’s head.  "What you did this morning was brilliant.  How quickly you thought of a way around Drake and Giles."

"I could not have done it if you had not been equal to the task."  Isalba leaned over until their heads were touching. "You, my love, were outstanding."

Megan felt a lump rise in her throat. "You believed I could do those things."

"I knew you could."  Isalba turned her head, briefly brushing their lips together.  "Mmmm." She paused, studying Megan's eyes.  "We should get back to the ship and join the men in town tonight."

"Yes."  Megan smiled and stole another kiss.  "I think an evening sitting at the head of the table will remind them who is in charge."

"Do you, now? I would probably help if I buy a round or two as well."  Isalba reached out, grabbing hold of Megan and dragging her up with her until they were both standing, bodies pressed together in a warm hug.  "Ah, Meg." Isalba’s cheek was pressed against Megan’s, her lips near her ear.  "Lately I do not know who I have become.  That boy.  These men.  You.  Nothing feels solid under my feet anymore."

"I think I understand"  Megan held on tightly, enjoying the close contact.  "It as if my head is full of porridge, all my thoughts scattered around inside.  No matter how hard I try to concentrate, I keep coming back around to the same thing."

"And what is that?" Isalba’s voice was soft and dreamy, very un-captain-like.

"You.  How wonderful this feels."  Megan looked up, raising her arms until they were wrapped around Isalba’s neck.  She laughed knowingly as Isalba lifted her and she was settled around the taller woman, her weight supported by strong arms and hips.  "This is what love feels like."

"Yes, I think so."  Isalba tilted her head, kissing Megan for a long while as the shadows lengthened across the cove.  Slowly, reluctantly, she eased up, both of them breathing hard.  "How is it that after making love with you last night and this morning, I can still want more?"

"I do not know, but I would not object," Megan replied with a smirk.  Growing quiet, she nuzzled Isalba’s neck, just drifting in a warm, lethargic haze.  "But we should get back and join the men in town.  We have the entire night ahead of us."

"I do like the way you think."  Without missing a beat or so much as tripping on a rock, Isalba began wading out of the water, still holding onto Megan, who laughed giddily, the sound ringing like music through the surrounding trees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in their cabin, both women set about changing their clothing for an evening at the Green Dragon.  Isalba had decided as a gesture of goodwill toward Ivan’s former men who were now loyal to her, to treat them to an evening at Ivan’s former Port Royal stomping grounds.  Her more casual day clothing discarded, she pulled on a pair of black-dyed buckskin trousers, tucking them into freshly-polished boots.  On top she donned a freshly-washed white shirt, a cascade of fancy ruffles adorning the front over the button placket.  It reminded her of the fine clothing worn by England’s men of the court.  Studying herself in the mirror, she ran a comb through her hair and then began platting it in a neat single braid down the back.

Megan was across the small space with her back turned, shuffling through her growing collection of clothing, and decided on a burgundy-colored dress.  It was winter, after all, even though the tropical heat was relentless until nightfall.  It had fine, black lace trimming its low, scooped neckline, flared sleeves, and a long row of shiny, black pearl buttons fastened it up the back.  She shook it out and laid it carefully across their bunk, then pulled out a pair of stockings and a set of under garments.  Pausing, she rested a hand on the bag of items purchased the afternoon she had been shopping with Jacquotte.

She peered over her shoulder where Isalba was busy with her braid.  Most times she would offer to help, but now she was glad Isalba’s attentions were elsewhere, as Megan was not certain what all was actually in the bag.  Opening it as quietly as she could, she reached in and drew out the ivory lace one-piece garment she herself had chosen, along with the two pairs of pantaloons she had yet to wear.  Below them she encountered the black lace corset that had holes cut out for the breasts, along with a pair of the crotchless pantaloons, also made of fine, black lace.  So.  Those were the mystery items Jacquotte had placed in the bag.  And at the bottom the only items left should be — she felt around, locating the cylinder and the harness, leaving them in the bag.

Well.  She considered the rather plain pantaloons lying next to her dress, then studied both the ivory undergarment and the two black lace pieces.  Black would match her dress, but the thought of wearing such bold items made her pause for a long moment.  Her dress and black petticoat would cover it all, of course, and the open-pattern lace would be much cooler on the warm evening than traditional underthings.  She shrugged and began pulling the black pantaloons up and over her legs, tying them closed with thin, black silk ribbons.  Looking down, she realized that the opening over her private parts could not be seen unless she spread her legs.

Smiling at her secret, she slipped her arms through the corset sleeves and fastened it with its tiny buttons and loops, adjusting it so her breasts peeked out through the holes. The were not actually holes, but rather a shelf of sorts, darted through with boning to support her assets from beneath without the need to cover them.  She felt positively wicked, in a good sort of way, and smiling, she turned to Isalba.  "Do you like this?"

"Do I like what?" Isalba turned and coughed, spitting out the hairpin she had hanging from the corner of her mouth.  "Need you ask me such a thing?" She grinned in frank appreciation, moving closer.  "When – where – I mean what – Oh bloody hell."  She placed her hands at the tops of Megan’s hips.  "I am tongue-tied by your beauty.  When did you purchase this? I do not recall –"

"Jacquotte." Megan interjected. "She – apparently she chose this and had the clerk place it in my bag when I  was not paying attention.  I can take it off if –"

"No.  No, no."  Isalba hastily assured her.  "Far be it from me to hold a grudge against such a fine garment simply due to its origins."  She reached up, tracing a circle around Megan’s nipple.  "Though knowing you are wearing this beneath your dress, I fear will drive me to distraction for the entire evening."

"My pantaloons have no crotch," Megan informed her.

Isalba’s eyes grew impossibly large and she involuntarily looked down.

"Do not stare at me so."  Megan slid two fingers beneath her chin, tilting Isalba’s face back up so she could see her eyes. "You shall make me blush."

"You already are."  Isalba lightly touched Megan’s face.  "I do hope I can keep my hands from wandering beneath your dress at the tavern."

"Perhaps I will need to slap them," Megan playfully replied.  "Oh, and this." She turned and leaned over, retrieving the cylinder and harness from the bag.  "Please, Isa.  I foolishly made a promise to Jacquotte over these.  What are they, anyway?"

"Something that your crotchless pantaloons would make much easier to use."  Isalba gingerly took the cylinder and harness from her.

"Easier to use?"  Megan frowned in complete confusion.  "Isa, I still do not understand."

"Let me show you how it is worn." Isalba unrolled the harness and spent a minute sorting out its straps and buckles, then wrapped it around her waist and between her legs, over her trousers, buckling it in place and then slipping the cylinder into a hole centered between her legs, over her pelvic bone.  She moved closer, her eyes never leaving Megan’s.  "This cylinder is what the whores refer to as a dong or a cock.  A woman can use it to make love to another woman. It substitutes for a man’s parts."

Megan immediately colored scarlet from her hairline to her breasts.  "You have used one of these before?" she stammered.

"I have."  Isalba moved even closer, placing one hand on Megan’s hip and using the other to cup her cheek, stroking the pink skin with her thumb.  "But I have not used it to make love."

"But you said –"

"I know what I said, but when I have used this type of toy in the past, it has been to establish my dominance over the woman I used it on."  She closed her eyes for a moment and then they slowly opened. "I have never forced myself on another woman, Meg, but I have not always been gentle.  It is something I am not sure I can explain to you. It is a game."

"You would use this to hurt me?" Megan reached up, placing her hand over Isalba’s, pressing it more snugly against her own face.  "I do not believe you would ever touch me to hurt me."

"I would not, and I do not hurt the women I have played such games with, beyond light pain they were agreeable to, which led to pleasure. As I said, it is difficult to explain."  Isalba looked down at the toy for a moment.  "What was your agreement with Jacquotte? She said you shook hands?"

"That if you did not show me what this is for, that I would let her show me."  Megan drew in a long breath. "You have shown me, I think."

"I have, although I know Jacquotte’s intent was that I use it on you."  Isalba’s eyes flashed angrily.  "I should cut both her hands off for merely thinking of using this on you.  She knew you were a virgin, no?"

"I think it was obvious."  Megan blushed again.

"This would hurt you, if not used carefully." Isalba’s tone grew angrier.  "God help her when next I see her."

"Isa, she did not hurt me, at least not like that," Megan fretted.  "I am honored you wish to protect me, but she has not –"

"Meg." Isalba continued to stroke Megan's face.  "Her intention was to harm you, one way or the other.  She assumed that I would –  no matter what I had chosen, to show you or not to show you, her intention was to hurt me by hurting you. I cannot let that pass unanswered.  She has challenged me with these actions and added insult to injury with an attempt to sully your honor, by tricking you into making such a promise."

"I was not tricked," Megan corrected her. "I knew you would not fail me. But I shall respect whatever you feel you must do.  I only hope you do not kill her."

"I won't make any promises, but I will kill her only as a last resort." Isalba managed a smile.  "But if I knock her about the place, you will not interfere?"

"I may assist you."  Megan laughed lightly, then grew sober.  "So you do not wish to use this with me?"

"I did not say that." Isalba smiled guiltily.  "But I do not wish to hurt you, even if we were to play games."

"So you do wish to use it on me?"  Megan reached down between them, delicately touching the smooth, ivory cylinder.

Isalba's hand closed around Megan's, lifting it and kissing the inside of her palm.  "We shall discuss this later.  Were I to use this on you, I would wish for you to be relaxed, and a few rounds of the Green Dragon's finest liquor should go a long way toward that end."

"You will take it with you tonight, then?" Megan's hand tingled pleasantly, as Isalba gave it a few nibbles.

"I had not thought to do so, but perhaps I shall. I will wear the harness beneath my trousers and keep the dong in my coat pocket." Isalba grinned wickedly.  "It will be our secret, agreed?"

"Agreed."  Megan reached up and drew Isalba's face down for a long, leisurely kiss.  "I feel positively naughty in this clothing.  Will you button me up?" She stepped back and shimmied into her petticoat, then lifted her dress from the bunk, stepping into it and sliding her arms inside the sleeves.  Turning, she offered her back to Isalba.

"I like you naughty."  Isalba ran her fingertip up Megan's spine, then began fastening the tiny buttons, placing a trail of kisses across Megan's exposed upper back, as she worked her way up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(The rest of this chapter is basically one ridiculously long, fairly explicit foreplay and love scene.  If that's not your thing, feel free to scroll to the beginning of chapter 20. If it is your thing, you're welcome. J )

Most of the crew were already at the Green Dragon by the time Megan and Isalba arrived.  As they entered the tavern, Isalba could not help but notice the many pairs of eyes that followed them as they made their way to the best table in the room.  Isalba had donned a burgundy and black long coat over her black suede trousers and the white shirt, the burgundy matching Megan’s dress. She had chosen the matching coat on purpose, wanting to leave no doubt in the minds of anyone that they were a couple, and, she had to admit, a very handsome one on this evening.

"Everyone is watching us," Megan commented, a bit self-consciously. She turned sideways, holding up her skirt as she squeezed between two tables.

"That is because I am with the most beautiful woman on the island," Isalba replied.

"I beg to differ." Megan smiled at the compliment.  "I am with the most beautiful woman on the island. 

Isalba smiled back at her and placed her hand just above Megan's backside, steering her around the table where the crew was seated, to the padded bench against the wall, where two spaces had been reserved for them near the corner, facing the tavern's front door.  They also had a nice view of a raised platform where musicians were setting up to play a violin and a mandolin.

"Ah, entertainment with our dinner this evening." Isalba waited for Megan to take her seat and then followed her.  "I always thought the Green Dragon was a bit more refined than Wicked Jack's."

They got situated on the bench and Isalba casually draped an arm across Megan's shoulders, as a server appeared and she ordered two goblets of the finest rum.  Megan stood up to rearrange her full skirt, then sat back down and Isalba immediately placed her arm back around her. Megan looked over at her and smiled.  It was much better than their evening at Wicked Jack's.  One of the whores was hovering nearby, sizing up Isalba and Megan as well.  At that moment, Megan felt Isalba's fingertips against her face, stroking her cheek, and then she leaned over and brushed a kiss across Megan's forehead. Making eye contact with the whore, Megan snuggled up to Isalba and then looked up at her, drinking in Isalba's smile of complete adoration.  With one more quick glance toward the whore, she laid her head on Isalba's shoulder.  The whore glared at her and then left in a huff. Megan grinned.

"Lady Megan, you are a vision tonight." Harry raised his mug of ale in her direction.

"Thank you." Megan blushed and felt Isalba caressing her partially-bare shoulder, exposed by the wide, low neckline of her dress.

"Yes, you are," Isalba agreed.  From her point of view, she had a direct line of sight down Megan's cleavage, and the shift of her breasts whenever she moved.  The dress was beautiful. It was bold but elegant, and she realized that in that dress, with her hair pinned up, and knowing what Megan was wearing beneath it all, there was no denying that Megan was no longer a girl, but a woman.

"Captain." Goro leaned across the table. "Thank you for choosing a night out here. It means a lot to those of us who sailed with Ivan. Your thoughtfulness makes them feel more valued as full members of your crew."

"You are most welcome." Isalba accepted a large goblet of rum and tilted it in his direction. "And you are full members of my crew. None of the men from Ivan's ship who pledged their swords to me have given me any reason to doubt their loyalty. They are good men."

"Thank you, Captain." I will let the ones who did not hear you know you feel this way.

"You are a good leader," Megan commented quietly.  "You know how to draw them into your good graces. I know they could come here without you, but joining them here over your favorite place was a good idea."

"Eh. It is good to show strength. Necessary even, in order to maintain full respect, but sometimes it is also good for me to be one of the crew. Besides, as long as you are by my side, it matters not which tavern we are in." Isalba smiled and stroked the back of Megan's head.

"I think I like the Green Dragon." Megan snuggled up to her again.

Isalba reached out and pulled a wooden tray of food closer to them.  It was piled full of olives, dried figs, small cubes of cheese, and several varieties of fruit. She selected a chunk of pineapple and with a grin, held it up to Megan's lips.

"Oh." Megan drew back in surprise at the unexpected offering, then looked over at Isalba and took it between her teeth, biting it in half. The juicy fruit dribbled onto her lips and before she could wipe it away, Isalba leaned over and kissed her, removing the juice with a flick of her tongue. She winked at Megan and then tilted her head to the side, kissing her more deeply, teasing her with lips and tongue. The hand at Megan's shoulder slipped down, curling around her waist and settling just above her hip as Isalba pulled her close.

As the kiss ended, Megan blushed a deep scarlet and ducked her head, scrubbing at the side of her neck. Gentle fingers probed her chin, guiding her face back up.

"Have I embarrassed you?" Isalba appeared apologetic, her eyes reflecting a bit of self-reproach and something more – maybe slight disappointment.

"Yes.  No." Megan took a deep breath and sat up a little taller. A snuggle to ward off a curious whore was one thing, but this was different, the blatant more intimate public display of Isalba's affection for her. She knew all the men were aware of the change between them, but this was new, allowing them to see firsthand things they had only shared in private. "No," she repeated resolutely. "I am proud to be known as yours." She took the remaining piece of pineapple from Isalba's fingers and returned the favor, holding it up to the pirate's mouth.

Isalba smiled and closed her lips around the fruit and Megan's fingertips, narrowing her eyes seductively and sucking on her fingers before she released them.  Isalba looked around the table and several men quickly became intensely interested in the musicians, who had begun to play and sing songs of the seas and the islands.  She chuckled and sat all the way back against the wall, making more space between herself and the table, then leaned over and placed her lips against Megan's ear.  "Sit in my lap."

Well.  Megan looked around the tavern, knowing it was only a matter of time before more of the ladies who provided their services to the Green Dragon's patrons began to make their rounds.  She had been worried about that, hadn't she – worried they would try to seduce Isalba?  It would be a lot easier to deter them if Isalba was obviously already claimed for the evening. She took a long, fortifying drink from her goblet of rum and complied, hitching up and over, landing sideways across Isalba's lap.  "Better?" She wiggled a little bit, getting more comfortable.

"Much better." Isalba gave her a subtle pat on her behind, then wrapped an arm around her back to support her, and spoke into her ear again, "I am every bit as proud to be known as yours, my love." She kissed Megan on the cheek, then reached over and picked up an olive, making as if to feed it to Megan, but at the last moment, with a mischievous grin, she dropped it into her cleavage.

Megan looked down and then up at Isalba, who was shamelessly smirking at her.  "Are you playing games with me after all?"

"Perhaps." Isalba slid a hand up, pressing it against Megan's stomach, just below her breasts. "I can get that for you, if you would like."

Megan playfully batted her hand away. "Oh, no, I am capable of retrieving it myself, thank you very much." She reached into the top of her dress and plucked out the olive, then glanced at Isalba and gave the olive a slow twirling lick, before offering it to her.  "I can play games, too."

"Dios ayúdame, I have met my match." Isalba greedily accepted the olive, chewing it and swallowing, before she dipped her head to sample Megan's lips in an even lengthier exchange than the prior one. She cradled Megan's face in the palm of her hand, deepening the kiss and smiling against her lips when she heard a small whimper. "Easy." She ended the contact with a quick, short peck to Megan's nose, then took a sip of rum.

Megan fanned herself with one hand, and also took a drink of rum, feeling a familiar longing rising up, heating her skin.  Her body had reacted this way so many times before when she was close to Isalba, a hunger inside that she didn't know how to satisfy. Now that she knew exactly how, it was all she could do to squelch a desire that was quickly demanding more intimate and lasting contact with her pirate lover.

Wondering how obvious her emotions were, she cautiously looked around the table and realized that due to their position against the wall near the corner, and because of the musicians, many of the men had their backs to her and Isalba, watching the show. A few of them were occupied with their own female companionship, oblivious to their Captain's activities. No one at the table was overtly watching them. Or maybe they knew better than to do so. 

It was different than with Arianna, with whom Isalba had put on a spectacle. With Arianna, Isalba had been looking over Arianna's shoulder at her crew, encouraging voyeurism.  Megan realized that on this night, despite their very ongoing public display, Isalba's eyes were only on her.

As Megan turned her attention back to her companion, Isalba smiled warmly at her, her eyes joyful.  Isalba offered her another olive, this time actually feeding it to her, and Megan closed her eyes, feeling the hand at her back move up to play in her hair.  Slowly, Isalba began removing her hairpins, until Megan's long hair spilled down her back.  "You are so very beautiful," Isalba murmured, offering her another olive.

They continued to feed each other, in between sharing kisses, looking into each other's eyes and trading light touches.  Isalba had one hand wrapped around Megan's calf, beneath her skirt, kneading the muscular flesh as she kissed Megan soundly.  Her other hand was pressed protectively against her back, holding her close. 

As the kiss ended, Isalba looked across the room and made eye contact with a server, trading a few hand signals with him that were unfamiliar to Megan.  In short order a tray of fresh drinks was delivered to their table, along with a skeleton key that Isalba picked up and placed on the table.

Megan nibbled at a slice of mango, watching him walk away.  "What is the key for?"

Isalba only laughed and kissed her, continuing to caress her calf and rub her back. She pulled back and gazed at Megan with frankly open desire, then stroked her head, running her fingers through Megan's hair and wrapping a long lock around one of her fingers.  "It is something we might need, that is all."

"Tell me more about the games." Megan grasped the hand at her calf and lifted it, holding on and lacing their fingers together.

"Ah."  Isalba did not have to guess what games she referred to, and she reached up with her other hand, tracing Megan's lips with her thumb.  "Do you want to play?"

"Maybe." Megan kissed Isalba's thumb and then tilted her head up, meeting a pair of eager lips with her own.  They kissed for a long while and Megan felt Isalba's easing her hand up Megan's ribs and subtly brushing her fingertips against the side of her breast. It sent a jolt of pure need directly to her groin and she moaned into Isalba's mouth, feeling Isalba groan in sympathy, the noise vibrating against her tongue.

Isalba leaned very close, trailing a fingertip along Megan's exposed collarbone. "I want you to ease up and turn in my lap so that you are facing forward and can lean back against me. When you get up, arrange your skirt to drape over my legs so that it doesn't come between you and my lap." She caressed Megan's face and quickly kissed her again.

Megan swallowed and glanced down at Isalba's coat pocket. "Yes, it is still there. I have not put it on." Isalba chuckled.  "I would not use that on you in public, Meg.  I might tease you, but I will not intentionally humiliate you."

Reassured, Megan took a sip from the fresh cup of rum, then looked around before she casually lifted up, nonchalantly fluffing her skirt up and out as she sat back down.  As her skirt settled, Isalba caught a whiff of a familiar musky, spicy scent, and her mouth watered.  She wrapped her arms around Megan and pulled her back against her, resting her chin on Megan's shoulder.

"I can smell your sweet pussy," she whispered into Megan's ear.  Megan's head jerked around toward her and Isalba quickly kissed her. "Relax. Turn back around and watch the musicians. It is very subtle. I am the only one near enough to detect it."

Some of the color receded from Megan's cheeks, and slowly, she turned back around and relaxed back into Isalba's embrace, feeling both of Isalba's hands splayed against her belly. Warm breath tickled her ear as Isalba continued to talk very quietly to her.  "Think of a word you would never say while we are making love, and tell me what it is."

"I – why?" Megan turned her head to the side again.

"Tell me the word and then I will tell you why." Isalba gave her a squeeze. "Do you trust me?"

It was a complex question, but the answer was simple. "Yes." Megan felt a kiss to her cheek.  She closed her eyes as Isalba began rubbing lazy circles on her stomach.  A word? What word? And why, she continued to wonder. For some reason their breakfast in the hotel room that morning crossed her mind, and she laughed lightly.  "Flapjacks."

"That is your word?" Megan nodded and Isalba chuckled.  "Very well. Flapjacks it is. It is your safety word for the rest of the night.  I am going to talk to you Megan. As long as we are in this room, I will speak low enough so that only you can hear me. While I talk to you, I am going to play with you.  Later –" She trailed off and shook her head.  "Later, we may be alone, but it will still be your safety word.  If I do or say anything that makes you too uncomfortable or causes unwelcome pain, say your safety word and I will stop. Do not say it unless you want me to stop, because if I hear it, I will stop, and the game will end. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Megan nodded.

"Turn back around and pretend you're enjoying the music." Isalba encouraged her with a little nudge, then rested her chin on Megan's shoulder once more.  "Have you been thinking about the cock in my pocket, Meg?" Megan grew completely still and then nodded. "So have I," Isalba continued. "It had not occurred to me to introduce such a toy to you, but now that we have it, I cannot stop thinking about how much I would like to use it on you." She felt Megan shift, just a slight movement on her lap, and she laughed lightly. "Are you leaving a wet spot on my trousers?" She lifted one hand and stroked Megan's cheek with the back of her fingers, feeling the heat of the blush she knew was there. "I think you are."

Megan felt Isalba stretch her legs out a little and then push her knees up, forcing Megan's legs apart until she straddled Isalba's thighs.  Looking down, she realized that her skirt was so full, that no one looking at them could tell that she was sitting there, her legs spread helplessly wide, her bare nether parts in direct contact with soft suede. Isalba shifted a little so that her thigh was pressed firmly up against her, and Megan felt her body react, giving away the need growing inside her.

Isalba felt the dampness through her trousers, and eased up on the pressure she was applying. "Oh, yes, you are very wet. I will not fuck you here, Meg. I would not do that to you." Isalba took a tender earlobe between her lips and flicked it with her tongue. "Do you understand now, what that word means?"

"It – it means to make love?" Megan whispered with some difficulty.  As Isalba continued with her attentions to her ear, Megan felt her nipples tighten in response.

"Mmm." Isalba released her earlobe and sucked lightly at the sensitive skin just behind it. "Yes, if I am with you, it does. This is so nice, Meg, knowing you desire me as much as I desire you."  She reached across the table and picked up the skeleton key, and casually dropped it into Megan's cleavage. "That is a key to the nicest guest room upstairs. It is not a room the whores use, it is a room for couples, like us. I am going to continue to play with you. If you decide you want to go upstairs with me, give me the key, alright?"

"Yes," Megan gasped, closing her eyes and leaning back fully against Isalba. She felt Isalba lift her hair and plant a trail of light, wet kisses at the base of her neck, sending a pleasant chill coursing through her body.

Soft lips spoke seductively into her ear, as Isalba ran a hand along the top of Megan's thigh, stopping just short of dipping between her legs.  "I can see the top of your lovely breasts and your nipples pressed against the front of your dress. I know they are hard. I can almost feel them against my tongue. It is making me crazy, knowing how easy it would be to reach under your skirt and make you climax, right here in my lap."

Megan bit her lower lip and her hips involuntarily pushed forward, seeking firmer contact with Isalba's lap. "Isa," she whispered, her voice full of longing. 

"You have the key, sweetheart. You have the control. That is what the game is about. I may dominate, but the one I dominate has the power to keep the game moving forward, or to stop it.  It is a giving over of your trust to me, that I will only do my best to bring you pleasure.  I can tease you and talk to you here all night, and I will continue to do so unless I hear your safety word. But you are my lady, not my whore.  If you want me to make love to you, we will have to go up to that room."

She wrapped both arms tightly around Megan. "Kiss me," she demanded, and Megan turned her head, leaning back and around as their lips met in sweet promise.  Isalba eased off on her attentions and looked into Megan's eyes. "I am burning with my need for you, my love.  What do you want me to do next? I am yours to command."

Megan looked at her and then down. Shyly, she reached into her dress and withdrew the key, handing it to Isalba and curling Isalba's fingers around it.  "Take me upstairs."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The change in Isalba's demeanor was impressive.  She gently helped Megan off her lap and stood, nonchalantly slipping the key into her pocket and holding out her hand.  Megan took it and was drawn up, her legs shaking a little as she regained her equilibrium. They maneuvered around the table and Isalba placed her hat on her head, touching the brim and tilting her head slightly.  "Goodnight gentlemen," she addressed the remaining crew that was still seated at the table.  "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"Goodnight, Captain," several of them responded. "Goodnight, Lady Megan."

"Goodnight," Megan stammered. She somehow had the presence of mind to note that both Harry and Goro had disappeared at some point, she assumed up the same stairs she was about to ascend.

With casual ease, Isalba placed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her through the crowded room toward the stairs.  She paused as they reached them to speak to the same server who had brought them the key. They exchanged a few words that Megan couldn't hear over the low din of the room, and then she saw Isalba nod and smile.

"What did he say to you?"  Megan began climbing the stairs with Isalba close behind her, her touch to her lower back so light that she barely felt it.

"That is for me to know now." She tweaked Megan's nose as they reached the second floor. "And you to know later."

"Oh." Megan looked up at her uncertainly.  Isalba's face was unreadable, whatever she was feeling inside hidden behind a stony mask. It was as if they had not touched each other at all while at the table, whatever desire she felt completely subdued. "You did want me to give the key back to you –?" Megan questioned her. "You want to go up here with me, do you not?"

Isalba laughed lightly and she took Megan's hand, as she began to lead her down the hallway. "You are a priceless treasure."

Mollified, Megan walked on beside her in silence.  To her surprise, at the end of the hallway was an alcove and another staircase, which they took up to the third floor, reaching another alcove with only one doorway.

"Not only the best room, but the most private," Isalba commented offhandedly.  She fished the key from her pocket and as she placed it in the keyhole, it was only then that Megan noted the slightest tremor to her hand.  At that moment she knew.  Isalba was not calm at all; there was a fire raging inside her.

Then they were inside the room with the door closed and Isalba was on her, pushing her against the door and then pressing fully against her.  With no pretense, her mouth engulfed Megan's, her tongue demanding entrance, tasting her and teasing suggestively.  Megan was lost in it, feeling as if with that one kiss, Isalba might pull her completely inside of her. It went on forever. There was nothing in the entire world but the joining of their mouths, and the unquenchable desire that was rising inside her, wanting with every inch of her skin for Isalba to completely consume her.

Isalba's hands were all over her, as if she could not decide where she wanted them most.  Isalba grasped impatiently at the neckline of her dress, realizing that despite how revealing it was, it was stretched too tightly across Megan's breasts to allow her full access to them. In annoyance and need to breathe, she ended the kiss, and engulfed Megan's backside with one hand, pulling her skirt up with the other, and pushing a knee between Megan's legs.  She snugged her thigh up against Megan and then stopped, pressing her forehead against Megan's as Isalba's chest rose and fell, gasping for air.

"I fear if I do what I was about to do, it will make you climax."  Her chest heaved one more time and she kissed Megan's forehead, a chaste gesture all out of context with the rest of her actions.

"I would have no complaint," Megan also gasped.

"If you want to keep playing, I cannot let that happen yet." Isalba grinned sheepishly.  "You do want to keep playing?"

"Yes." Megan tugged at Isalba's waistband with one hand and plucked at the buttons of her shirt with the other.

"Goddess help me." Isalba groaned.  "I do not know how much longer I can control myself.  I want –"

Megan pressed her fingers against Isalba's lips.  "Do whatever you want to do." She searched Isalba's startled face and stroked her cheek.  " I – I want to be with you like this.  For you to show me all the things you want to show me. I am not afraid of you, Isa.  I know you will not hurt me."

"I fear even if I do not hurt you, I shall shock you." She withdrew her knee and released the hem of Megan's skirt.

"Then shock me," Megan whispered fiercely, and she took hold of Isalba's arms, pulling them around herself. "I want your hands on me."

Isalba's nostrils flared and she spun Megan around, belly toward the door, and gently pressed her against it. She ran a blunt fingernail from shoulder to shoulder, eliciting goose bumps.  Then she leaned over and lifted Megan's hair, nibbling the nape of her neck, while she unbuttoned a few buttons.  She looked down in frustration at the very long row of tiny pearls, then pressed her lips against Megan's ear. "I apologize for what I am about to do to your beautiful dress."

With one swift motion, she ripped the back of the dress open, sending pearls clattering across the wooden floor. Megan gasped in surprise, but remained where she was, her breasts and the side of her face pressed against the cool whitewash that covered the door.  She felt Isalba pulling her dress and petticoat down, flowing over her body, down her legs, and pooling at her feet on the floor.  Isalba ran both hands over her buttocks and up her back, then back down, over her backside and down her legs, and she realized Isalba was kneeling behind her, removing her shoes and then rolling her stockings off her legs.

"So beautiful, my love." Isalba kissed the small of her back, through the thin black lace that covered her from shoulder blades to mid-calf. "Turn around."

Megan complied, feeling the heat on her skin.  She placed her hands beneath her exposed breasts and lifted them in a gesture of offering. "Yours."

"I cannot breathe." Isalba sounded as if she might choke. She closed the slight distance between them and covered Megan's breasts with her hands, running her palms over hardened nipples.  "You wanted my hands on you?"  She raised an eyebrow in question.

"And your mouth." Megan touched the back of her head, urging her down, and Isalba decided that complete dominance was overrated. She closed her lips around a nipple and then opened her mouth wider, taking in as much of the sweet flesh as she could.  Megan's satisfied hiss blew warm air across the back of her neck.  "Oh, yes. Your mouth.  Definitely your mouth."

Isalba fed on Megan, driven by her continual whimpers of pleasure.  She reached down and eased Megan's legs apart, and cupped her. Megan made a little high-pitched unintelligible sound and ground herself against Isalba's hand. "Not yet, sweetheart. "She regretfully withdrew her hand.  "I will take care of you, I promise, just not yet."

She took a step back and looked around, locating a chair tucked under a desk against one wall.  She lifted her coat from the rail across the foot of the bed, where she had tossed it when they first entered the room, and handed it to Megan.  "Get my cock out of my pocket and bring it to me."  Turning her back to Megan, she crossed the room and pulled out the chair, and took a seat.

Stretching her body out, she leaned against the back of the chair and lazily spread her legs, then crooked her finger in a come-hither motion at Megan, who approached her at on unsteady limbs.  Isalba licked her lips, watching the slight sway of Megan's hips and the bobbing of her breasts as she closed the short distance between them. "Straddle me like you did downstairs, but facing me."

Megan climbed across her lap, her own legs forced open wide by Isalba's position.  Isalba looked down, getting her first unhindered view of Megan's exposed assets since she had first donned the crotchless pantaloons back in their berth on the ship. "You are perfect," she murmured in wonder, then pulled Megan to her and kissed her slowly. She moved to Megan's ear.  "Give me the dong and unbutton my trousers."

Ivory, warmed by Megan's hand was placed against her palm, and she closed her fingers around it and looked down, watching Megan unfasten the buttons.  "Do you remember how I placed this in the harness? Were you paying attention?" She gave the cock back to her lover.

"I think so." Megan looked at her, her eyes conveying a bit of uncertainty.

Isalba cupped her cheek and stroked it with her thumb. "You remember your safe word?"

"Yes. Fl—"

Isalba placed her hand over Megan's mouth.  "Do not say it. Not unless you want to stop. I only wanted to make sure you know you can still use it.  Do you need to?"

Megan's chest rose and fell in a long release of breath.  "No." 

Isalba lifted Megan's hand that was curled around the dong and kissed her knuckles.  "Put it in the harness."  She watched as Megan wordlessly slipped the toy through the cock ring and tugged at a few of the straps, adjusting them to hold it up better. "Button my trousers back up as far as you can. It will help hold it in place."

"You are not going to get undressed?" Megan frowned.

"Do you want me undressed?" Isalba smiled indulgently.

Megan blushed. "I – like feeling your skin against mine. It's nice."

"Let us compromise." Isalba reached down and unbuttoned her own shirt, allowing it to slide down off her shoulders. Before she could remove it herself, Megan was tugging the undershirt up and over her head, rendering her naked to her waist. "The trousers stay on, at least for now, alright?"

"Alright," Megan replied absently, her hands busy exploring Isalba's brown skin.  Her fingers circled two enticing breasts and then she bent over, tasting a nipple with the tip of her tongue.

Isalba sighed, her body welcoming the attention.  As Megan continued to tease her, Isalba reached down and lifted Megan's backside with one hand, easing her forward.  With the other hand, she pushed the dong down, trailing it up and down an inner thigh. Megan audibly gulped and came up for air, her eyes wide as she looked down between them.

Isalba hugged her close and rubbed comforting circles at her back, as she spoke into Megan's ear. "Do not be afraid, sweetheart. I will not use this just yet.  Soon, but not now. I only wanted you to feel it.  She pulled Megan even closer and ran the toy between Megan's legs, coating it with her wetness and allowing Megan to experience its smoothness against her. That feels nice, does it not?"

Megan whimpered and nodded against her. Their faces still pressed together, Isalba kissed her just below her ear, then continued to talk to her, her voice pitched low and soothing.  "This is bigger than the three fingers I used in the cave.  I am going to take you to that nice, comfortable bed over there, and I am going to feast on your breasts until you are begging for relief. Then I am going to spread your lovely pussy lips and put my cock inside you.  It may hurt a little bit at first, and it will make you feel very full. When I enter you, you will probably think you want to use your safe word, but I want you to try to relax, and breathe, and let me love you, if you can.  Do you think you can try to do that for me?"

"Yes." Megan held onto her, willing her insides to quit shaking.  In truth, Isalba's words alone were making her want the toy, and she reached down, running one finger back and forth along its surface. She raised her wet finger to Isalba's lips and gently pressed it between them, offering her a taste. "Isa, take me to bed."

Isalba swirled her tongue around Megan's finger and then released it with an audible smack of her lips.  Her body was thrumming, and she resisted the urge to simply slip the dong inside Megan right there where they sat. Shaking her head to clear it, she stood and took the few steps to the bed, where she lay Megan down on the soft, plump mattress. She sat down on the edge of the bed and quickly removed her boots, then stretched out next to her lover.

Megan's cheeks were flushed pink, her breathing already more rapid then usual. She reached out, pulling Isalba to her, and their bodies came together, skin brushing against skin, as Isalba slipped one hand beneath Megan's back and the other behind her head, holding her close.

Their lips met in a languid, deep kiss, that gradually became more frenzied, both of them knowing where their coupling was leading.  Isalba's hips were already rolling, lightly humping Megan's leg as she kissed her way down to a heaving chest.  She wanted to take it slow, but her body betrayed her and she lifted Megan's breast in her hand, lowering her head and taking it into her mouth, sucking greedily. Megan cried out at the welcome contact, her hands roaming up and down Isalba's back, urging her on. Isalba moaned, wishing she had removed her trousers and could feel Megan's skin directly against her. She was afraid when she finally did use the toy, she would not be able to control herself.

"I need –" Isalba sat back and licked her lips, then reached up, shoving her own half-unbraided hair from her eyes. "I need to slow down."

"Come here." Megan reached up and pulled Isalba to her. "Lie all the way down on top of me, please? I love feeling your weight on me." Megan's voice was both erotic and soothing, and she wrapped her arms around Isalba, reaching up to the back of her head. "I am going to unbraid your hair. It is so pretty when it falls around your face." 

Isalba released a long, shuddering breath, nuzzling Megan's skin, the fingers playing in her hair serving to calm her.  When her hair was free, Megan scratched her fingers lightly all over Isalba's head and then across her upper back.  Then she touched Isalba's face and Isalba rose up to look at her. "You are amazing." The fire banked, she began again, kissing Megan and then slipping down to tease her breasts.

Megan rested one hand at the back of Isalba's head, running the other one up and down her braced arm, then on down to her hip, squeezing her backside and savoring the rewarding groan that reached her ears. It felt as if there was a direct link between Isalba's lips and her groin, continual jolts of desire shooting through her as Isalba made love to her breasts. 

She raised one leg up and wrapped it around her lover, placing the bottom of her foot against Isalba's leg.  "Isa," she whimpered. She eased her legs further apart in invitation, lifting her hips and rubbing her wetness against Isalba's stomach.  "Isa," she repeated in desperation, small muscles contracting in anticipation of the contact she craved.

Isalba released her nipple and hitched up to look into Megan's eyes.  She swept blonde hair off Megan's forehead and then tenderly kissed her.  "Do you want me inside you?" Mean whimpered and nodded, feeling Isalba take her hand and guide it down, wrapping it around her cock. "You want this?"

"Yes."  Megan released a frustrated breath and pressed her other hand against Isalba's hip in an attempt to push her closer.

Isalba kissed her tenderly, then took the toy from her, rubbing it against Megan to coat it with her wetness.  Megan moaned, pressing back against its length.  Isalba's body reacted strongly to Megan's obvious need, her senses hyper-aware of the base of the toy pressing against her own pubic bone, and Megan's hands, clutching at Isalba's thighs, urging her on. She knelt low between Megan's legs, using one hand to spread her open, and the other to fit the cock up against her.  "You are like a beautiful flower, my love." She slipped just the tip inside, then pushed her own legs back, using the motion to slide the toy most of the way in, in one smooth, slow motion.

Megan gasped and her eyes opened wide.  She clutched at Isalba's shoulders. "Hurts a little," she whimpered.

"I know." Isalba eased forward until she was all the way in, then kissed Megan, trying to distract her from the stretching sensation between her legs.  "You remember your word?" Megan nodded. "You need to use it?"

"No." Megan groaned, her legs pressed stiffly against Isalba, pushing against her hips in an involuntary effort to force her out.

"Easy." Isalba pitched her voice low and steady.  "I need to move inside you, Meg, and get you past the pain. I will go slow until you want more.  If the pain does not turn to pleasure after a short while, use your word. I want make you feel good. Alright?"

"Alright." Megan took several swift, shallow breaths, her body trying to adjust to the fullness.  Isalba pulled part of the way out and Megan released a sigh of relief, then groaned again as she felt the toy pushed back in.  "Isa." She bit her lip as Isalba began to slowly move in and out. At first it felt like she might rip open, but after several strokes she began to relax, her body reacting to the steady, constant movement, the cock stimulating her and unexpectedly fanning the flames of her desire. "Feels – ungh – good," she gasped.

"Good." Isalba smiled, her own desire rising as their bodies moved together. With each thrust, Megan released a little grunt of pleasure, a low guttural noise as her body was jerked a few inches toward the headboard. Isalba braced herself on one arm, and wrapped the other one around the back of Megan's leg, pulling it up against Isalba's shoulder and anchoring her in place. She put her full body into her motions and increased her pace, pumping hard and feeling Megan's hips rolling back against her. She used the arm around Megan's leg to lift her up slightly, leveraging the deeper contact to provide greater stimulation.

Megan's whimpers and moans were constant, her eyes closed tightly and an expression of intense pleasure plastered across her features. "Come, sweetheart." Isalba knew she was close, Megan's lips were parted, panting.   "Come while I'm inside you." She trailed her fingernails up the back of Megan's thigh and Megan cried out, her stomach muscles clenching as waves of pleasure rolled over her, fine muscles gripping at the toy inside her.

She felt comforting touches to her face, and she groaned at the slight discomfort as Isalba pulled out. "Shhhh." Isalba kissed her forehead, caressing her body and making nonsense noises in Megan's ear. She reached between Megan's legs, idly stroking her with light, comforting touches, and she felt Megan pressing back against her. A bubbling laugh rose up from Isalba's lips. "You need more." A tiny mewl escaped Megan's lips.

Pressing her hands against Megan's legs, she stretched out between them, putting her lips and tongue to good use.  Megan felt kisses to each inner thigh, followed by a deep kiss and then Isalba's tongue playing lightly against her. She was soon whimpering again, her hands clutching at the top of Isalba's head.  Megan was still wearing her lace underthings, and Isalba used one hand to begin tugging the pantaloons off.  She paused long enough to finish the task, then lifted Megan to help her slip out of the top as well.  Sitting up, her mind wandered back to their play on the chair, and she tilted her head to the side, running her hands up and down Megan's thighs.

"Isa." Megan clutched at her, begging her to continue. 

Isalba slid across the bed and situated herself until she was sitting up, leaning back against the headboard with her legs stretched out.  "Straddle me, facing me. Keep your weight on your knees."

Eager for the contact to continue, Megan complied, resting her hands lightly on Isalba's shoulders.  Isalba lifted her hands and teased both of Megan's breasts, then reached between Megan's legs and began stroking her.  Megan's head fell back, her eyes closed in pleasure, her body wanting more.  "Isa, I need –" she trailed off on a frustrated little yelp.

"I know what you need," Isalba purred. She urged Megan closer and pressed a hand against a firm butt cheek, holding her cock steady with the other hand and helping Megan ease down onto it.  Megan groaned and Isalba kissed her, bracketing her hands at Megan's hips. "This way you control how deeply I am inside you." Isalba kissed her again and then began helping Megan move up and down on the toy. 

With a low moan, Megan's head fell forward and she wrapped her arms around Isalba's neck, her face pressed into a broad shoulder as the pace of her hips increased, blindly seeking relief.  The delicious friction sent tendrils of pleasure shooting through her, and she moaned, lightly biting Isalba's skin. There was nothing but her burning need, and the warm, nice-smelling body she was wrapped around. "This. Feels. So very. Wanton," she gasped.

"But it feels good?" Isalba grasped her backside, squeezing in time to Megan's movement.

"Oh, yes," Megan replied breathlessly. She felt the tip of Isalba's pinky slip into her anus, and the resulting wave of intense pleasure that resulted.

Isalba's hips rolled upward, meeting her thrust for thrust, Megan's rising cries of pleasure very close in her ear. "I love seeing you riding my cock. Love making you feel good. So beautiful." Isalba murmured in her ear, moving against her and feeling the change as Megan held on tightly, trembling as another strong climax claimed her.

Megan fell limply against her, just breathing for a long while as Isalba rubbed comforting circles against her back. "Flapjacks," Megan whimpered.

Isalba burst out laughing. "You are precious." She kissed the top of Megan's head and held on, rocking her in her arms as Megan's breathing slowly returned to normal. Realizing she was still inside her, Isalba lifted Megan up and carefully pulled out, and Megan grunted, still burrowed against her, unwilling to move.

"I need to get up for a moment," Isalba apologized, lifting Megan off her lap and watching as the younger woman stretched out on her side, her arm curled under her head, watching with half-lidded eyes as Isalba regretfully left their warm haven.

With some pain, she walked back over to the chair, her own body still screaming for relief.  If she were with one of the whores, she would simply demand it, but with Megan she didn't have the heart.  What they had shared was beautiful, beyond her wildest dreams, and had ceased being a game to her long before they had finished.

Stiffly, she eased down onto the chair and leaned over, tugging off her stockings. She then unbuttoned her trousers and eased them down low enough to expose the harness, which she unbuckled and tossed aside on the desk, the dong still strapped into it. 

As she stood to finish undressing, Megan got up and approached her. "Let me do that."

Isalba's mouth fell open in surprise, and just as quickly closed with a click of her teeth. "As you wish." She fought to regain her composure, forcing her arms to hang still at her sides as Megan pulled her trousers down, followed by her pantaloons, and helped her step out of them.

"You look tired. I think you need to sit down." Megan gave her a little push, and Isalba landed on her naked backside on the chair.  Megan dropped to her knees and eased up between her legs, placing a chaste kiss to each inner thigh. She looked up adoringly at Isalba.

"I thought the game had ended." Isalba smiled, trailing her fingertips along Megan's jaw.

"This is no game." Megan lifted the hand at her face and kissed the inside of Isalba's palm.

Isalba leaned over and urged Megan up enough to kiss her, then pulled back and rubbed noses with her.  "It was not for me, either."

"I know," Megan replied, placing a kiss on Isalba's belly. "And I know you are in desperate need of this." She dropped back down, gently opening Isalba with her thumbs and kissing her intimately.

Isalba moaned and leaned back, spreading her legs wide to give Megan as much access as she needed.  She closed her eyes and placed a hand on top of the head bobbing between her legs, regretfully knowing she would not last for very long.  Megan's contact deepened and Isalba felt a fire growing inside, which quickly spread out, her body shaking with sweet release. Megan rose and straddled her once more, sharing a long kiss, the evidence of their lovemaking on her tongue, causing Isalba to moan.

The kiss ended and they held contentedly onto each other, until Isalba finally pulled back and looked at Megan. "Sleep?" She stroked Megan's hair.

"Oh, yes," Megan eagerly responded.

Arms around each other, they stumbled toward the bed and tumbled into it, falling together in a tangle of legs and arms.  Isalba pulled pillows under their heads, then tugged the covers up over them and wrapped herself around Megan like a second skin.  She inhaled deeply, drawing in the scent of their coupling, lingering in the air and on their warm bodies.  Megan tilted her head up and they shared one more kiss, then fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 20

Isalba crawled back into bed and pulled up the covers. Megan murmured, her eyes closed, and snuggled up to her, resting her head on a broad shoulder.  Isalba wrapped her arms around her and rested her cheek against the top of Megan's head.  She thought about the night before, what they had shared and Megan's complete trust in her. Megan held back nothing in the expression of her desire, and had even taken the lead a few times.

She smiled.  Isalba had always enjoyed the time she spent with the whores of Port Royal, the games of dominance and control, and many playful, consensual, sometimes kinky romps between the sheets.  She had been willing to give all of that up for what she assumed would be sweet, shy encounters similar to their time in the cave. Now she wondered if maybe she could have it all with her lovely bedmate. Surprise. Delight. So many words described what she was feeling.

Love.

A long, thoughtful sigh escaped her lips.  What had she told Megan? That she didn't expect to live to old age.  She had no reason to, given how many times she had already cheated death.  And before Megan had come waltzing back into her life, she had no real reason to choose longevity over her exciting pirate's life.

Falling in love changed things.  Their lovemaking had been amazing, not just the night before, but from the very beginning. She had thought the toy might turn the encounter into a light-hearted fuck, but she had felt their connection with her whole heart, not just her body.  It had been no meaningless roll in the hay. Dropping their guard and shamelessly expressing their need for one another had brought them closer together. Megan's sweetly open eagerness in the joining of their bodies was a gift. Every moment with her, in bed, on the ship, on the beach, anywhere, meant more to Isalba than she had been willing to admit to herself. 

There was an unfamiliar peace stealing over her, threatening to take up residence and stay. A peace that was sucking all desire to pillage and plunder from her system. She had a ship and men she needed to get back to.  Plans for the winter to make.  And what would she do after winter passed, when the men were ready to take to the seas once more?

How could she go back to the life she had been leading, knowing that with every encounter with rivals, she risked forfeiting her life and her future with the precious person she held in her arms? Who was she, if not a pirate? She turned that over in her head a few times. Maybe the real question was who could she become?

And what of Megan, who had left her fiancé and her family to live a life of adventure.  What if Megan wanted to continue life on the seas? Could Isalba live with that, knowing that both of them would be in frequent danger?

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she got up and pulled on her shirt, then answered it.  Five maids stood before her bearing large buckets of water. "Oh." Isalba rolled her eyes. "I forgot about this. Come in, but please be quiet. My companion is sleeping."

"Am not," Megan muttered, completely buried beneath the covers.

Isalba chuckled, as the women quickly deposited the buckets on the hearth by the fire, and then left.

"I am naked." Megan's head appeared. "Are we going to have guests see me this way every time we share a hotel room?

An indulgent smile graced Isalba's lips.  "First of all, you were covered from head to foot. Second, those women have seen much more scandalous things than your adorable, bare bottom.  They do not easily shock."

"Hmmph," Megan huffed and pointed at the buckets. "What is this? And where did you go earlier?"

"This is a hot bath I ordered last night. That is what I was talking to the server about before we came upstairs.  The fire will heat the water and then I will pour it in that tub in the corner over there, and we will have a nice time getting clean together before we go back to the ship."

"What am I to wear after this hot bath, since you ruined my dress last night?" Megan looked over toward the floor by the door where the dress had been discarded, and then looked around. "Where is my dress?!" her voice rose in dismay. 

"That is where I went this morning." Isalba looked down, feeling inexplicably shy.  "I – um – I got up early and located all of your buttons, and took them and the dress to the tailor across the street. And I bought both of us clean clothing and underthings." She smiled and looked up, gesturing toward a wrapped bundle on the desktop.

"Oh" Megan's features softened and she motioned to Isalba. "Come here. Please?"

Isalba grinned and plopped down next to her. "How can I ever refuse you?" She batted her eyelashes fetchingly, and Megan laughed.

"You are so good to me." Megan sat up and patted her lap, and Isalba scooted over and rested her head on her legs.  Megan began combing her fingers through Isalba's hair.  "I hope I did not disappoint you last night.  It was wonderful, but I am new to this, and I know you have done this with women who know what they are doing. I –"

Isalba sat up and kissed her, a thorough, gentle, lingering contact.  "No one I have ever bedded in the past could hold a candle to you, my love." She tucked an arm around Megan, hugging her close against her. "I did not, and could not begin to compare you to any of them. There is no comparison.  You satisfy me completely."

"I do?" An incredulous smile lit Megan's entire face.

"Every day, in every way." She stroked Megan's hair, looking deeply into her eyes. "You are my true companion from dawn until dusk, from dusk until midnight, and from midnight to the dawn again."

Tears welled up in Megan's eyes and spilled over, and she buried her face against her lover.  "I did not know you were a poet." She sniffled.

"Until I met you, neither did I. Meg, what if –?" A knock at the door interrupted her.

"And I am still naked," Megan teased, dabbing at her eyes with the hem of Isalba's shirt. "Who is there now?"

"Breakfast?" Isalba grinned, secretly glad her question had been interrupted, unsure if she was ready for the answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Megan slipped into the tub, hissing as her nether parts made contact with the warm water. "Oh, that hurts more than the activity that caused it."

Isalba stepped in behind her and wrapped her arms around Megan's waist, pulling her back against her. "I am sorry."

"You are not." Megan nudged her in the ribs.

"You are right. I am not." Isalba admitted with a chuckle. "But I do hope your pain does not last for long."

"As do I." Megan tilted her head up and back, glancing at Isalba's face. "Because I want to do it again, soon."

"Well," Isalba reached down and ran her hand up and down Megan's leg. "We could –"

Megan grasped the wandering hand and placed it on the rim of the tub. "We could not."

A bubbling laugh rose up, and Isalba nuzzled her ear.  "Very well. I shall keep my hands to myself."

"You may wash my hair," Megan informed her.

"My lady." Isalba complied, working up a lather in Megan's long locks, and then filling a pitcher from the hearth with water, pouring it over her head and filling it again, repeating the action until her hair was squeaky clean.  They took turns bathing one another, and traded a few relatively chaste kisses, then got out of the tub and dried each other off.

Isalba retrieved their new clothes and handed Megan a pair of tan trouser and a rust-hued blouse. She then began donning her own pair of tan trousers with a similar navy blue blouse. As she was buttoning up, she glanced thoughtfully over at Megan, who was wearing her new shirt, still unbuttoned, standing in the mirror braiding her hair. "Meg, I know you left home to have adventures –"

"No, I left home to be with you," Megan sweetly corrected her.

"But you said you would not go back there because there was nothing there for you," Isalba replied in confusion.

Megan finished her braid, tying it off with a black hair ribbon she had worn the night before.  She turned and approached Isalba, reaching up and smoothing her shirt collar.  "There was nothing there for me because you were not going to remain there."

"Buh –" Isalba grasped Megan's hands, holding them in her own.  "What if I were not a pirate?"

"What if you were not?" Megan parroted her. "Why should that make a difference to me?"

Isalba released a frustrated breath.  "What if I were a fisherman? Or a healer? Or even a farmer?"

"Then I would help you fish, heal, or farm," Megan replied matter-of-factly.

"You did not want to be a farmer's wife." Isalba searched her eyes, trying to understand.

"Isa." Megan laughed lightly. "I did not want to be Patrick's wife. Farming would not be my first choice, because it is a hard life. But what I could not reconcile myself to was knowing that I was going to spend the rest of my life married to a man I did not love, raising his half dozen children. I did not want that. What I want –" She reached up to touch Isalba's face. "Is to spend my life with you."

"And I with you." Isalba smiled and buttoned her up.

"Do you no longer wish to be a pirate?" Megan asked curiously.

"I do not know," Isalba admitted with a shrug. "Maybe there is a better way to live. I have been pondering my options – our options," she corrected herself.

"Maybe we can ponder together." Megan pecked her on the lips.

Isalba hugged her close. "I would like that, very much."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a beautiful late autumn day, though the weather did not vary greatly in Port Royal, no matter the season.  A light, tropical breeze drifted across the island, and the skies were nearly devoid of clouds.  Megan and Isalba walked hand-in-hand along the board sidewalk of the main street of the town, headed back toward the ship.  Isalba had her clothing from the night before, and the dong and harness tied up discretely in a bundle slung over her shoulder.  They would retrieve Megan's dress in a few days, once it was repaired.

As they approached the dock area, Isalba spied a familiar figure reclining under a palm tree on the beach. "Trouble," she murmured.

"What?" Megan looked up at her and then followed her gaze. "Oh. And here she comes."

"She has not the brains God gave a squid." Isalba handed Megan the bundle of clothing, and placed a hand on her sword hilt. "You are certain I should not just kill her? It would be the much easier path."

Megan sighed. "Isa, she is like a sail with a large leak. The wind blows and blows from her mouth, but it takes her nowhere. Do not let her provoke you. She is not worth it."

"Very well. I shall attempt talking first." Isalba relented, releasing a huff of air.

"Isalba Cortez." Jacquotte stopped several feet away and tipped a mug of some beverage in their direction, in a mock toast. "And Lady Megan. I see your night on the town extended past the dawn. Have you fucked her yet, Isalba, or is she merely a platonic bed warmer?"

"I do so want to kill her," Isalba murmured. "Another word of disrespect toward Megan, and we will do more than talk, Jacquotte. Whatever bee is up your bunghole, you will direct it toward me, not her. Do I make myself clear to you?

"Oh, but the color to her fair cheeks tells the story." Jacquotte laughed. "I do believe our little flower has been pollinated."

"I tried." Isalba glanced at Megan. "Stand back, Meg. It is time this was settled." She drew her sword. "A fight for the port, Jacquotte."

"What do you mean?" The red-haired pirate tilted her mug to her lips and drained it of whatever it had contained, then tossed it aside and wiped her sleeve across her mouth.  One of her men rose from under the tree and she held up a hand. "Stand down.  All of you."

The man's eyes were leery as they swept over Isalba. "It will not be a fair fight. She is not sober." He defied his captain with the comment, but quickly complied once he'd said his piece, moving back a respectable distance from the two women.

"That is her problem, not mine." Isalba's eyes narrowed, studying the man. "I must commend you, Jacquotte. Your men see something in you that escapes me. They are loyal to you, perhaps to their own detriment. A fight for the port," she repeated herself. "For some inexplicable reason, despite your crude and disrespectful treatment of her, Megan does not wish for me to end your worthless life. So we shall not fight to the death. Instead, the first one to disarm the other will load up her ship and she and her men will be gone from Port Royal by nightfall. Deal?"

"I will delight in watching that pathetic tub you call a ship vacating the berth that was rightfully mine." Jacquotte approached her, hand extended, and they shook on it. She took a step back and drew her own sword.

They faced off, circling one another, sizing each other up. Isalba studied Jacquotte's eyes in an attempt to determine if her man had spoken truth.  Her opponent appeared lucid enough. Her gaze seemed focused and clear. There was no tremor in the hand that held her sword. Perhaps the man had exaggerated.  Isalba was aware of the crowd that had begun gathering around them, and she stopped circling and abruptly crossed her arms over her chest, her sword resting across her left shoulder.

Jacquotte lunged at her and Isalba dodged her outstretched blade, turning to watch as Jacquotte stumbled past her and nearly fell before adjusting her momentum and turned around, coming back at her.  Isalba chuckled and dodged again, watching Jacquotte repeat the same set of awkward steps in the opposite direction. Then again, she shook her head slightly, maybe her man had not been exaggerating at all.

Isalba widened her stance and drew her sword back, and began circling again.  As Jacquotte approached her a third time, Isalba swung out and their blades clashed. She quickly reversed direction, meeting Jacquotte's sword a second time with a backhanded sideways swing, and sending Jacquotte off balance for a few steps before she righted herself. "Come on, Jacquotte. Clear your head and at least give me a challenge," Isalba taunted her.

"My head is clear," the other pirate insisted, and rushed at her again.  Isalba met the charge and the loud clang of metal against metal rang out across the harbor. As Jacquotte prepared to attack again, Isalba flipped her sword to her other hand and quickly slashed out, removing an epaulette from the shoulder of Jacquotte's jacket. Just as quickly, her sword arced back up, meeting the downward swing of her opponent's blade.  She put all of her weight into the thrust, forcing Jacquotte back a step.

Before Jacquotte could attack again, Isalba went on the offensive in a series of side to side parries that forced Jacquotte to take a step back with each blow, resulting in sloppy near-misses as she failed to get her weapon fully back into a good defensive position before the next blow came.  Jacquotte yelled in frustration and reached for a dagger in a sheath at her waist.  As Isalba jabbed at her again, Jacquotte flung the dagger and Isalba could not fully avoid it lest she not hold off the much larger sword swinging toward her head.  She felt the sting as the dagger wizzed past her left shoulder, and then the wet warmth of blood staining her navy blue shirt. 

"Isa!" Megan cried out.

"I am fine!" she yelled, her eyes on Jacquotte. " You want to fight dirty? Alright. I can play that game."  Holding her sword in front of her, she drove it point forward, aiming for Jacquotte's gut. As Jacquotte turned aside to avoid it, Isalba drew back the fist of her free hand and landed a solid punch to the side of Jacquotte's face, watching in satisfaction as her head snapped to the side and blood trailed out from one nostril.

Jacquotte roared in fury and turned back toward her. As she took a step, Isalba hooked her foot behind Jacquotte's knee, while also fending off her sword. As Jacquotte lost her balance and fell backward, Isalba twisted her foot, jerking Jacquotte off one leg, and slammed her blade down against Jacquotte's near her sword hand, wrenching the weapon from it. It went clattering across the wooden dock and slid to a stop against a post.

"You bitch!" Jacquotte yelled and landed on her back and Isalba approached her, her sword pointed at her throat.  Jacquotte started to reach inside her coat, and Isalba lunged, catching the cuff of her jacket with the point of her sword and pinning Jacquotte's arm to the ground, immobilizing it.

"Move either hand again, and I will cut it off." Isalba warily bent over, retrieving a flintlock pistol hidden in a holster inside Jacquotte's jacket. "Goro, Harry," she called to her watching men. "Hold down her arms while I ensure she has no more weapons on her. "Kick me and you will lose a foot," she warned the struggling woman.

The men quickly came to her aid and Isalba patted Jacquotte down.

"Ah, Isalba." Jacquotte goaded her.  "I have longed to feel your touch once more. It is delicate, like that of a virgin." She glanced at Megan and started to open her mouth again, and Isalba landed another solid punch to her face, splitting her lip.

"Utter a single untoward word in her direction, and the next one will render you unconscious."  She located one more dagger hidden in Jacquotte's boot and took it, tucking it into her own belt. She stood up. "Release her."

Harry and Goro looked at each other and reluctantly let go, both taking only a single step back.  Jacquotte lifted her hand and wiped away the blood from her lips.  Cautiously, she sat up. "May I stand?" She held out her arms to her sides.

"Yes. The sooner you stand, the sooner you are gone." Isalba rested her sword against her shoulder in the same stance she had taken when the fight began. 

"Oh, Isalba." Jacquotte got to her feet and laughed. "Let us be reasonable. Yule is upon us. Can we not come to an arrangement to delay my departure? Think of my men."

"No!" Isalba dropped her sword and grabbed the smaller pirate, shoving her back down to the ground and landing on top of her, her hand wrapped around Jacquotte's throat.  She drew her own dagger and brandished it back and forth, inches from a pair of suddenly terrified eyes. "You will be gone by nightfall, or I will kill you." She pressed the flat blade against Jacquotte's cheek, then with a swift flick, cut off a lock of red hair. A desperate gurgling noise came from Jacquotte's throat, and her eyes bulged as the oxygen began to be depleted from her bloodstream.

Isalba continued to hold her down.  "I am going to stand now, and so are you. You will go directly to your ship and you will begin preparing to leave. As the sun sets, you will pull out of this harbor, never to return again. Any of your men who remain behind will pledge their swords to me, or they will be executed. Am I clear?" Jacquotte nodded, her face red, the arteries and veins in her neck and temples swelling against her skin as if they might burst.

As Isalba released her and stood, Jacquotte sat up and coughed violently, gasping for air. Her hands held up in a gesture of surrender, with some effort she got to her feet. "Isalba," she rasped. "We would have made a good team. I will go now. Perhaps one day you will see more clearly and seek out a partnership with me.  We could rule the seas together, you and I."

Isalba snorted. "Perhaps not." She gestured toward Jacquotte's ship. "Go. I will not tell you again. If I desire it, I can rule the seas without your help. And I already have a partner." She glanced at Megan, who had moved cautiously to within a few steps of her.

"Lady Megan." Jacquotte ducked her head in deference. "You win." She turned and walked away, weaving a little as she made her way to her ship.  Her men who had been watching quickly fell in behind her, but not without backward glances from a handful of them.

"Harry." Isalba sighed. "Prepare a few more hammocks below decks.  "I suspect we may gain some additional crew, come nightfall."

Harry's eyes gleamed. "Aye, Captain." He grinned at Megan. "Good morning, Lady Megan."

"Good morning, Harry." Megan smiled and then closed the distance, inspecting Isalba's cut shoulder and the patch of half-dried blood staining her shirt.  "I should stitch this."

"It will be fine." Isalba gently brushed her hands away.

"But you are bleeding," Megan pointed out.

"Meg, I need to go for a walk alone for a while, alright?"  She reached over, touching Megan's face. "Do not worry about my arm. I will have a healer look at it."

"You are going to see Tia and Tomas?"

"Yes." Isalba leaned over and pecked her on the lips. "I promise I will be back in time for supper on deck with the crew."

Megan pressed her lips together, her expression solemn. "Be careful." She patted Isalba's healthy arm.

"For you, of course." Isalba winked at her, then turned back toward the town.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The  crew stood around a blazing iron fire pit on the deck of the Patientia, laughing heartily and singing merry songs.  Ale and rum flowed freely from large kegs that had been rolled in from town and tapped.  Over the fire, Cooks was roasting several varieties of meat, and in the coals at the edge of the fire, ears of corn were roasting, wrapped up in their silky leaves. Off to the side on the top of a barrel, fragrant, crusty loaves of bread from the port's bakery had been cut, and fresh butter slathered between the slices.

Up by the helm, Isalba had some charts spread out, using a straight ruler and a charcoal pencil to draw lines, as she talked with Megan.  One chart was a detailed map of the island, the other a larger map of the islands, the southern colonies, French, Spanish, and Indian territories, and the vast gulf of water they all touched. 

"Once we leave here, this is what I propose." She pointed from Port Royal and then a short line she had drawn to another island.  "This is Puerto Rico de San Juan Bautista. We need to go there first, for a short visit."

"Puerto Rico de San Juan Bautista," Megan mimicked her, attempting to roll the words off her tongue in the same way Isalba did.  "It is Spanish?"

"Yes."

"You hate Spain," Megan pointed out.  "And Spain hates you."

"It cannot be avoided. I left something there that I need to retrieve." Isalba leaned close and whispered, "Covington is not the only one who saved up treasure in a chest. We could live very comfortably on what I left there, for the rest of our lives, and I could share out Covington's chest among all my men."

"Oh." Megan's eyes grew wide. "But you sound as if you do not plan to take the men with us when we leave."

"They can go with us if they wish, but I will no longer attack ships and coastal towns to make a living. Once we leave Puerto Rico, you and I will want for nothing. We can live like royalty.  The men, if they are frugal, can live nicely off their share of Covington's treasure as well, but not as nicely as you and I will."

"You do not want to stay here?"  Megan looked around the harbor and the gorgeous sky. The sun was low on the horizon, painting a few puffy clouds and the lapping waves pink, golden, and red.  "It is so beautiful here."

"For a short time, yes, through the winter." Isalba's eyes grew thoughtful. "You and I have the use of Tia's hut until the spring, if we want it."

"What of your ship?" Megan's voice rose in concern.

"We can split our time between the ship and the hut, but think of it Meg." She placed her hand over Megan's on the platform where the maps were spread out.  "We would have the privacy of that hut, chicken's for fresh eggs and meat, and peace from the crowds in the town.  I could even help those in need of a healer. Tia is still very weak and not likely to survive the winter."

"I am sorry about Tia, but will Port Royal not need a new healer when she passes?" Meg reasoned.

"Oh, Meg." Isalba drew her over to a bench to sit.  "I have too much history here.  Too many enemies. Too many that want to use me or wish me dead. And more that could pass through at any time.  I wish to try to make a fresh beginning with you, someplace far from this island."

"Where you go, I go." Megan took Isalba's hand, brushing her thumb across the back of it. "So. Where will we go?"

Isalba smiled and kissed her, then got up and led her back over to the maps.  "There is a new settlement here." She trailed her finger along a very long line that she had drawn from Puerto Rico nearly all the way across the gulf to the northwest.  "La Nouvelle-Orléans. It is a French colony.  Jacquotte aside, the French may be one of the few peoples I have not angered during my travels. They say it never snows there, and the colony is on a great river, and there is abundant fishing there from the river and the sea. We could build a house, or live on a house boat, and catch fresh fish every day for our supper."

"That sounds lovely," Megan replied dreamily.  "So the men can go there with us?"

"The men can go as far as there with us." Isalba glanced across the deck toward her celebrating crew.  "But if you and I settle there, I will sell the Patientia, or if some of them wish to continue traveling on the sea, perhaps I will give it to them outright. My time as a pirate captain will come to an end.  I need this, Meg.  I want to know that you and I have a reasonable chance to live long lives in peace.  To do that, I must leave the sea and I cannot travel back to England or any place else across the Atlantic.  I certainly cannot live in any of the Spanish territory. We cannot go to the colonies north or south of Virginia, as by now I am certain the story has been spun to make me your kidnapper."

"I will never see them again, will I?" Megan asked, already knowing the answer.  Stoically, she shook her head a little in resignation.  "I knew that when I crept out the window that night.  I choose you, then, now, and always."

"And I choose you." Isalba took her into her arms and kissed her for a timeless moment.  "What I am planning, I do for you. For us.  I love you, Meg.  You are my life mate."

"And you are mine." Megan hugged her tightly, nuzzling Isalba's chest.

A cheer rose up from across the deck, and they looked up.  The sun was near setting, and across the way Jacquotte's ship was pulling away from the dock.  Harry approached them, bearing two large mugs of ale.  "Captain, Lady Megan. Pardon my interruption, but I thought perhaps you might be in need of a bit of libation."

"Oh, yes." Isalba took the mugs from him and handed one to Megan. "Thank you, Harry."

"Will you be joining us for supper, Captain, or do you wish to be served in your cabin?"

"Celebrating with the men, of course!" Megan replied eagerly.

"Yes, absolutely," Isalba agreed with her.

"Wonderful." Harry beamed. "The men will be glad. We have much to celebrate!" He grinned and left them to finish their discussion.

Isalba clicked her mug against Megan's and they took a drink, gazing into each other's eyes.  Another, louder cheer rose up, and they looked up again, as Jacquotte's ship floated past them, sails raised.  Jacquotte was at the wheel and she searched the deck of the Patientia, spying Megan and Isalba. Silently, she looked away, and the ship tacked, its aft toward the docks as it reached the mouth of the harbor and tacked again, disappearing out of sight.

Isalba turned to Meg and they kissed again, sealing their future.  As the sun sank at the edge of the ocean, arm in arm, they crossed the deck to join the crew in a party that would last until the wee hours of the morning.  There was much to celebrate, indeed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

 

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