The Admiral
The Rum Cottage

Arden Lexington

James pulls a chair over with his foot and guides me to sit down before dragging me closer to be seated right between his legs. He leans forward, rests each hand on my outer thigh, and waits. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I was the only one to leave that ship alive, and it was only thanks to my mother... She took the blade. It went through her and into me. In a way, I was lucky. Very lucky,” I clear my throat as I feel it constricting with overwhelming emotion. This is the first time, after all these years I’m telling anyone “If they had found me, they would have done to me what they did to all the other women and girls on that ship. I heard them...the screaming...”

I look at James who watches me intently, hanging on every word, words I’ve never spoken to anyone.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Arden,” James mutters to himself as he lowers his head. He seems to push back tears and reaches over to refill my glass of rum, and takes a sip of his, before returning his attention to me.

“My mother shielded me from sight with her body as she bled out and I watched the life in her eyes fade. I’ll never forget the way her eyes just stopped blinking and dried up. That and her last words were ‘leave it in, or you’ll bleed out,’ so I just lay there, for hours with her staring at me.”

I grab my glass of rum and lean back in my chair taking a moment to reign in my emotions. James looks at me as he leans back. For a moment he looks down at his glass as he turns it in his hands, “I’m assuming you haven’t talked about this much.”

“At all.”

He nods slowly as it all sinks in, “How did you make it off the ship?”

“The Morning Star had been on their tail for a day. When I came around, I was bandaged up, a little delirious. Debang was only a cabin boy then, I was in the captain’s cabin when I came to, and I held Thomas in a choke hold and threatened to cut his throat with a letter opener if they didn’t explain who they were.”

James chuckles, “Sounds about right.”

I manage a smirk, “When I expressed my wanting revenge for my parents, the captain took me under his wing, I joined the crew, and I trained. Attending the Academy more as a formality, I was already a candidate by then, and now I’m here.”

I realize I said too much when I said candidate, but luckily James didn’t seem to notice.

James shifts in his seat and leans forward, “Does it help?” I feel my brows knit at his question, “Does taking the lives of pirates, does it help in your healing?”

I look into my rum. I know the answer, but being honest with myself has never been something I’ve ever been good at. I want to ignore how unhappy and unsatisfied I am and just keep going forward blindly. It was the easiest option, but every day that passes it’s becoming harder to trick myself to keep walking that road, especially now I’ve bumped into James on said road. He’s almost like a friendly traveler waving for me to walk with him on a brighter sunnier path.

“It does not,” I finally manage to say.

“You feel guilty for surviving,” I look at James. His simple and concise words ring so true that it’s almost frightening. “Let me ask you this, have you ever saved anyone, their lives I mean.”

My brows knit, “Yes.”

“Do you regret helping any of those people?”

“No, not at all, some of them were my friends.”

“And thanks to your intervention are those friends more often grateful, or burdened by their extended life span?”

“Grateful.”

“Do you think your mother regrets her actions, wherever she might be?”

I feel my head shaking, “No,” I feel the tears flowing freely from my eyes, nothing I can do can stop them now.

“And do you think your mother would want you to be burdened by the years she bought you with her sacrifice?” I can’t answer that. I shake my head, but he doesn’t stop there, “I know my questions are blunt and I’m going to seem insensitive, Arden, but you dishonor her memory, and her sacrifice by choosing not to live the life she saved. You did die that day, and the pirates, they’ve already won, because you’re out in the middle of the fucking ocean choosing to be miserable. There are always going to be pirates out there, no matter how many you bleed. Do you want revenge? Live your life, and be happy. That is the best revenge you could ever hope to exact.”

James’s eyes blaze with a fierce, passionate intensity I’ve never seen before. He’s fighting for me.

All I can think in my head on a loop are the words, “he’s not wrong,” and in a way, I’m grateful he didn’t tip-toe around me like most people do. Being Admiral sometimes means people pull their punches. James no doubt suspects I’m in a position of authority, but I doubt he knows I’m the head of the snake. Even yet, he respects me enough to tell me exactly what he thinks.

“Arden,” his hand squeezes my thigh, pulling me out of my thoughts, “thank you for sharing all of this with me. I know it mustn’t be easy to talk about, but I’m grateful you did.”

As James’s thumb gently caresses my thigh, the air around us quickly gets so thick it’s hard to breathe. The rum is already swirling in my head and when my eyes dart to his lips all I can think about is what we started in the carriage.

If I’m going to start doing things that will aid in my living and working on increasing my happiness, then kissing James and making love with him is at the top of my list, and the way he’s looking at me right now tells me to know we’re in the same book and on the same page.

I know James is considerate, after everything that’s happened tonight, he's unlikely to make the first move. I put my rum on the table, before taking his glass and putting it next to mine.

James’s hands glide up my thighs and up under my shirt as I straddle him. His kiss is so soft and tender, such a contradiction from the strength he radiates from his big and warm hands against my back. I feel him harden as I grind up against him and moan into his mouth. I want him, I want James in a way I’ve never allowed myself to want anything or anyone.

I didn’t even notice James had gotten to his feet and carried me to the bed until he laid me down. I start to unbutton my pants as James takes off his shirt and I’m confronted by that wall of rippling muscle. James helps me with my pants, with one swift pull they’re somewhere on the other side of the cottage and I can’t help but smile. When he takes off his own pants, I’m a little shocked to see how big he is.

I bite my lip and when he hovers over me, he notices my concern, “If at any point you’re uncomfortable, or you need me to stop, just say so,” his eyes search mine, and I realize he’s waiting for a response. I nod, and as he kisses me, I feel his hand gliding down my stomach to reach my core. His fingers easily slide into me, and my body grinds up into his touch.

“Oh, James,” I moan.

He pauses and looks at me with a hint of concern, “Does that hurt?”

“No, but if you don’t keep doing what you’re doing I’m going to stab you.”

“Good thing I hid all the knives,” we share a little laugh and I watch as James lifts my shirt and kisses his way down my neck. He takes my breast into his warm mouth, and as he kisses a trail down my stomach and over my hideous scar, I can feel the fear start to take over. I cover my face with my hand, but James doesn’t let me wallow for long. His tongue sends a sensation through my body that I had never even thought possible, and my hands move to dig into his hair. As I let out a long breath and moan James seems to growl in pleasure. The vibrations and the way he touches me on the inside send wave after wave of pleasure barreling through me. I feel myself convulse around his fingers and for a while I think I’ve gone blind, seeing nothing but white with my eyes shut tight.

“Oh, James,” I moan.

James’s lips crash onto mine and I’m so consumed by lust I wrap all my limbs around him and pull him closer. That little voice within me, the one that fights for James, not only has it won, but now knowing what he can do with his tongue, my body will never want to let him go.

How am I supposed to survive the pain that will inevitably come if he chooses to leave me?

That option will be put forward to him tomorrow.

At least I’ll have tonight.

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