My Lady Bound: The Pirate's Prisoner (Regency Erotic Romance)

By Lucinda Brazon

When beautiful, headstrong Isabella visits her father's ships at the Portsmouth docks for the first time, the last thing she expects is to be captured and ransomed by a pirate with a decades-old grudge against her father.

Tough and bold, at first Isabella struggles against her imprisonment and her captor - yet there is an unmistakable spark between them, and soon she yields to this strange and passionate man whose mind and body set her own aflame.

But the outside world isn't far away, and when Isabella's father catches up with the pirate ship, she finds herself having to make an impossible decision...

21,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lucinda Brazon
• Release date: May 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310986611

Lucinda Brazon

Lucinda Brazon likes nothing better than writing the hottest, dirtiest quality erotica to keep her readers squirming whilst turning the pages. You can always reach her by dropping an email to [e-mail]!

Book preview

My Lady Bound

Published by Lucinda Brazon at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 Lucinda Brazon

***

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My Lady Bound

or,

The Pirate’s Prisoner

By Lucinda Brazon

Chapter One

Oh! Oh! Let me go, you brute!

Lady Isabella Tracey let out a sharp scream as she felt two rough hands seize her waist and pin her to the ground.

That’s enough of that screechin’, girl, came the gruff reply, swiftly stifled by another, even rougher hand clamping down hard on her mouth. Now don’t you say another word, beauty, and we’ll have you out of here in a moment.

The voice was coarse and very close to her ear, and Isabella thrashed her head from side to side, her breath catching in her throat as she fruitlessly tried to scream again.

All around her, she could hear the creak of the enormous ships, the hubbub and clamour of the workers heaving cargo from ship to shore and the rhythmic slap of the waves against the docks.

What a mistake this trip had been! If her hands had been free, Isabella would have buried her face in them. For amongst all this noise, who could hear a young girl’s screams or notice her struggling? She regretted bitterly the whim that had seen her steal away from her mother and slip into Father’s study back at Tracey Hall, with the express intention of begging him for a visit to his offices.

Father, please, she had begged, her vivid green eyes softening in supplication as she clung to his hand. I am twenty years old now – surely you agree that I am not a child any longer. Surely it is time I knew a little more of the world?

Oh, Isabella, sighed her father as he shuffled the papers on his mahogany desk. Really, this is a most unorthodox request. Although Sir Tracey had been surprised to see his youngest and only daughter appear at the door of his study with that familiar wheedling expression on her face, to be entirely frank, he had some idea of what she might be going to ask. From a young age she had been fascinated with his world of rough sailors and exotic cargos, ships coming and going from places she could only imagine, and him presiding over it all as the owner of the whole company.

You simply cannot imagine how much pleasure it would bring me, Isabella persisted. And it would be only the one visit. No more. I promise I will be as good as anything and you may take me home the very moment you choose.

Your mother will not thank me for this little excursion, child.

We needn’t tell her!

Sir Tracey smiled. Now that, my dear, is a very bad idea indeed.

Isabella could not resist an answering smile. The idea that her mother would remain unaware of something happening in the household was, well, unthinkable. Yes, I know. But you might persuade her. Tell her I must go – I simply must!

As Isabella had suspected, it did not take very long to convince her father. It never did, for much as he did not care to admit it, Sir Tracey was uniquely vulnerable to the charms and persuasions of his pretty daughter.

Oh, very well, daughter, he sighed. He brought his hand down firmly onto the stack of receipts on the table. Your mother really will not be pleased, but I suppose it is right you should understand something of our family’s trade, even if you will never be directly involved yourself.

Isabella had been beside herself with delight. She had spent so many childhood hours spellbound by her Papa’s tales of stowaways and noble captains, of faraway lands with strange customs and stranger people – and now finally, finally she was to see the docks from which every story started!

Oh, Father. Thank you. Thank you!

Now be off with you, daughter. It is as if you have nothing to do in the world, coming in here with your unreasonable requests! Sir Tracey bent to kiss Isabella’s cheek affectionately, if a little exasperatedly, and watched as she skipped out of the room as lightly as a leaf on the breeze.

And at last the day of the excursion came. She had dressed that morning as if for a grand occasion, torturing her maid with constant demands for various dresses and bonnets until she had wound herself into quite the frenzy of excitement.

My green silk – no, no, the blue. Oh Martha, bring me the hat with the roses around the brim – oh, no, this will not do. I think it must be the yellow. Yes, bring me the yellow silk and the bonnet to match, Isabella demanded, standing in her dressing room clad in nothing but a thin muslin slip and her white, tightly laced corset.

At twenty years old she had lost all her childishness but was, at that moment, in the very bloom of youth. Her chestnut ringlets tumbled down an elegant neck which flared into a pair of round, plump shoulders and two ripe, firm breasts, trapped by the corset in such a way as to offer them up like the most tempting morsels from the fruit basket. A dramatic dip in at the waist gave way again to a pair of perfectly curved hips, their fleshy softness inviting a hand to caress all the way up from her knee to the roundness of her buttocks.

Martha slipped the dress over her mistress's head and tugged it into place before pulling the stays tighter and tighter until every delicious curve of Isabella's waist and bosom was clearly visible. With the ripe promise of her body laced tightly into