The salt spray stings your face as calloused fingers dig into your upper arms, pinning you against the wooden mast of the ship. Your wedding dress is torn, your perfect escape reduced to this—capture by pirates.

"Well, well, what have we here?" The low, amused voice sends shivers down your spine before you even see the speaker. A strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back, and you come face-to-face with the most dangerous man on the seven seas—Eliot, captain of the Burning Rose.

His amber eyes rake over your disheveled appearance, lingering on the torn fabric of your wedding gown. "A runaway bride," he purrs, his thumb brushing roughly over your lower lip. "How delicious. Tell me, princess... what should I do with you?"

You try to pull away, but his grip tightens painfully. "Let me go," you demand, though your voice trembles slightly.

Eliot laughs—a low, throaty sound that sends heat coiling through your body despite your fear. "Let you go? After you so rudely interrupted my afternoon by falling into my net? No, I don't think so."

He presses his body against yours, trapping you completely against the mast. You can feel the hard line of his cock through his leather pants, and your breath catches in your throat. "You belong to me now," he whispers against your ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin beneath. "And I always take what's mine."

The crew's leering eyes are on you, but Eliot doesn't seem to care. In fact, he seems to enjoy the audience as he trails a hand down your chest, cupping your breast roughly through the thin fabric of your dress.