The Red Drifter of the Sea (Pirates of the Isles #3) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,29

pitch-black cabin. Moira wondered if not being able to see the porthole was a blessing or an omen. With no way to tell the time by the stars or to see the water level, neither Kyle nor Moira could guess what had happened outside.

Sometime near dawn, the boat stopped heeling from side to side. It swayed on calm seas, and the water no longer pounded against the porthole. The skies were lighter, and the wind no longer howled. The sound of rainfall continued, but it was more a gentle pitter-patter than the driving nails that had pounded the wood during the gales.

“I’m sorry,” Moira blurted as Kyle loosened his hold. “You startled me when I woke up earlier, and I spoke without thinking. I offended you without intention, but then you taunted me. I’d been terrified during the first storm, and instead of finding comfort with you after my first typhoon at sea, you ignored me. I lashed out. I’m sorry.”

“I know, sweet one. I, too, lashed out. I was cold and tired, hoping for a warm welcome from you. When I didn’t get it, I let my disappointment get the better of me,” Kyle confessed.

“Even before the second storm hit, I swear to you, I didn’t disobey you,” Moira promised. She had no idea why she felt that was the moment she should declare her innocence. But Kyle had said she’d disappointed him, and she wanted redemption. She wanted to offer him some piece of news that didn’t bring more frustration or fear.

Kyle cupped her jaw as he gazed into the blue depths that reminded him of the sea on the calmest of days, when its gentle tide lasted to lull him to sleep at night. He saw the honesty in Moira’s gaze, and her need for him to believe her. The notion that she’d been pleasuring herself while the ship nearly blew apart hadn’t occurred to him, but he saw how badly she needed him to accept her pledge. He sensed her need for something familiar that would set her at ease. He knew she needed some predictability that she could rely on after being alone and afraid.

“I’m glad to hear that, Moira,” Kyle chided. “I would be very disappointed if I touched you and found you no longer yearned for me to pleasure you. I would have known if you were sated rather than aching for me.”

“I know,” Moira whispered. Kyle watched Moira and noticed her hands still trembled. His acceptance had soothed some of her nerves, but she was still dithery.

“You may not have intended to speak out of turn when you woke, but you spoke without thinking. Your words were unwarranted and unkind, Moira. All of them.”

“I know,” Moira repeated.

“You received your punishment already, yet you don’t seem to be at ease. All is forgiven, sweet one,” Kyle reassured. Moira nodded, but she looked no more convinced than she had when they started talking. “Have you not forgiven yourself?”

Moira shook her head, her eyes lowered. She came to her knees and rested her hands in her lap. The need to rub her thumb over her knuckles to soothe herself was tempting, but she remained still. She waited for Kyle to speak again, and while it was only a few seconds later, it felt like an eternity before she heard his voice.

“What do you need, Moira?” Kyle nudged her chin up, but she kept her gaze averted. “Look at me, mo ghràidh.”

Moira sucked in air, the Gaelic term feeling like an anchor in her emotional storm. It might not be the Irish Gaelic she spoke, but she understood its sentiment . Swallowing, she lifted the hem of the leine to her waist. Kyle had found one during the storm, realizing Moira was still naked beneath the plaid.

“Are you asking for a spanking, Moira?” Kyle watched the color rise in Moira’s cheeks. “You must say it aloud. Make your request and explain why you think you deserve it.”

The command in Kyle’s voice excited Moira. She wanted to lie across his lap and let Kyle decide what happened next. She wanted to feel his command as much as hear it, knowing she would feel just as safe and protected as she did when he held her, but her conscience would be cleared.

“I still feel guilty about how I spoke to you, and I would like a spanking. Please. Capt’n,” Moira said.

“And why do you still feel guilty if I’ve already punished and forgiven you?” Kyle pressed. He suspected