The Pirate King Ch. 06

His own hands were shaking, his body shivering between my arms. He wanted this as bad as I did, I knew. He sunk a hand into my hair, pulling my lips from his skin. I protested, heard myself whimper as he kept me from what I wanted, needed, but he didn't take me far, just rested his mouth against my ear.

"Get your pants off," he growled, his voice violent in his desire. The command strung through my body, snapping at my nerves and vibrating my soul loose from the parts of me that knew what I was doing. I had been denied this too long, and the way his command set me aflame turned me into something I barely recognized. I found myself moaning, pulling against his hand to press myself against back to his neck. My teeth scraped against his skin, causing him to gasp and twist, even as my hand began to work at his cock, picking a rhythm that his hips soon reciprocated. We tangled together, a mass of limbs and teeth and hands and cock until he suddenly ripped my head back again. I felt as though my eyes were spinning, it was so hard to focus. He pressed his forehead to mine and panted, trying to find his bearings.

"Pants," he finally commanded again. I nodded, able to follow the thread of his demand this time, controlling my own desire. As I took my hands from his body, I was surprised to find the path of my lower hand blocked by his. "This one," he told me huskily, "stays here." He guided it back to his cock; when I touched it, we gasped together.

I stroked him as I worked on my breeches, our heads pressed together, our gasps mingled between our lips. I marveled at the noises he made, the little things I could do to make him twitch and collapse as he came undone under my fingers. Finally, my distracted hand finished with my pants and I kicked them off, tangling them with the sheets at our feet.

"Fuck," the Captain exhaled. "Finally." He let go of my head to grab my ass with both his hands. I gasped as his fingers dug into me, pulling me up his body to just above his cock. His fingers spread my cheeks forcefully, not painfully but firmly, and I felt how open I was for him, how easy it would be for him to take me and a shudder passed through me. He felt it and froze.

His hesitation concerned me. My shudder had been one of anticipation, not of fear like I knew he must be thinking. I bit him again, wrapping my leg around his back. I wanted him to know I was okay. How could I be anything but okay when I was with him? He understood and relaxed, running shaking hands up my spine. I shivered at his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling my scars. "I just don't want to hurt you again."

I lurched forward, sinking my lips into his. I kissed him like he had kissed me the first time we met, that first night when I learned that I would need him always, a deep and passionate attempt to drive everything but me, now, here, from his mind. I didn't want him to think about the things I had told him before; I had been wrong. My words were not with me to explain that to him now. All I had were my lips, my tongue, my teeth, the way I could use them to take away his breath and give him mine.

He immediately reacted, his hips jerking up under mine. The tip of his cock rubbed in the crease in my ass, found my hole and I couldn't help myself, I moaned and gasped into his mouth, feeling my small noises slip over and under his tongue as he tasted them, caught them for his own. I knew I had to stay quiet, knew there were guards at the door but it was so hard, so impossible already with just the slightest of touches.

I forgot that I had been doing this for him, that there had been a goal behind this kiss and I gave in to my desire, rolling my body into his. My hips rocked against him, my cock rubbing against his stomach even as the tip of his pressed, hot and slick, against my asshole. I wanted him, wanted him so bad, but his hand on my ass kept me from pressing down. I bit his lip in frustration and he pulled my hair, moaning.

Three times I tried to pull back, and three times the Captain kept me locked against him, his hand tight in my hair. The third time, he pulled me back to his lips so hard I gasped and as my cock rubbed against his stomach I could feel him chuckle, a deep and dangerous sound, his belly jumping as he swallowed my delight until he became distracted once again by the feel of my tongue against his lips.

When we finally came up for air, I felt light headed, my breath ragged in my chest. He didn't let me go far, trapping me against his forehead. Our eyes were locked, pupils tearing around the edges with all the things we held there. I couldn't keep my eyes off of his lips, swollen and perfect and I wanted them again, needed them again. I tried to move back to him but his hand in my hair kept me away.

His other hand had never left my ass. Dextrous fingers found their way between my cheeks, tracing circles around my hole. My eyes lost focus at his touch, my body reacting involuntarily. I felt myself push against him, my cock rubbing along his stomach, my head desperately pulling against his hand. He held me at bay, watching me writhe in his grasp.

"I want to be closer," he told me, his voice as ragged as his eyes.

I nodded against his hand. I needed him closer, needed him inside of me. But he just kept rimming my asshole with his fingers. Suddenly, he stopped doing even that, his hand pulling away to rest on my lower back. I protested quietly, mindful of the men at the door.

I could feel his hand shaking, knew it was from holding back. Let go, I wanted to shout. Do what you want to do; I want it too, whatever it is. But I had lost my words, lost them in the things he'd been doing to me.

"But I need to know that it's okay."

I didn't hear him, not really. All I knew was that he'd stopped. Why the fuck did he do that? I thought. I was frustrated, needing him, my body wound up and my soul even worse. If I had been thinking, I would have been able to understand that he was scared, that the last time we had done something like this he had almost lost me. But where I was at that moment was; don't you fucking hold back on me now.

Lube, I thought. He just needs lube. I cast about for it, trying to see where it was. The shape of the jar finally caught my eye on the bedside table and I lunged for it, catching him totally by surprise by the suddenness of my movement. I felt my cock slide across his chest, heard him gasp. Jar in hand, I settled back beside him, pressing my ass into his hand and finding the tip of his cock with my asshole, my hips moving on their own accord. His eyes were huge, his mouth hanging just the slightest bit open. I pressed a kiss to those perfectly opened lips even as I reached down and pressed the lube to his chest. My leg wrapped itself back around his waist and I smiled against him, smiled with my whole body.

When I lifted my lips from his I found him still shocked, but much less concerned. "Fuck," he whispered, sounding a little dazed. "Fuck, okay." He traced his hand down my back, but this time he wasn't feeling my scars. His fingers moved towards a sensitive and waiting destination, raising goosebumps as they went. I slid my mouth down his neck, waiting for what I knew was going to come next. When he slipped his fingers inside of me, I bit just above his collarbone to keep from crying out from the pleasure of it.

He played with me for a little, burying his face into the top of my head and listening to me whimper into his neck. His other hand, also covering in lube, made its way up around my leg. He shushed me firmly as it landed on my cock, his commands pushing the noises back from my mouth and turning them to choked exclamations in my throat. I could feel him breathing heavily against me, his now-slick stomach shuddering against the tip of my cock as his hand stroked my length, his other hand on my ass with two fingers in my hole. I felt him push a third in and wanted to cry out, but he gently, coldy, sweetly commanded my quiet and I made my body obey.

I thought about begging him to fuck me, breaking down and using my words to drive him to take me, but what use were words when my body so clearly needed him? I wore my soul just under my skin this time, made no attempt to hide it, had no illusions about why he affected me the way he did, and I knew that he could tell my soul needed him as badly as my body. I had no need of words, not unless he commanded them from me; besides, I was beyond them, my body shimmering with the sensation of his cock so close to entering me, his hand stroking my shaft. He pulled his fingers from my ass and I moaned, driving my fingers into his back. I felt his body press into mine.

"Ready?" he whispered, and I nodded furiously into his neck. I'd been ready for fuckinghours. I'd been ready for years.

He shifted beneath me, and I felt the slick head of his cock press against my hole. I gasped into neck and he cursed.

We both jumped when the knock at the door split the air.

"Shit," he muttered, his hand freezing on my cock.

One, I managed to think. Two more knocks sounded, then one again.

"It's Natch," I whispered. I reached down and grabbed the covers, pulling them up over our naked forms. He gave me a look, but I ignored it, settling back against him. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me in tight and causing my sensitive dick to slide across his stomach. I gasped.

"He won't mind," the Captain said, dark eyes never leaving my face.

"No," I agreed, a little breathless.

"Tell him to come in, then." His eyes were so intense on mine. I felt his hand tighten on my waist.

"Natch," I called. I couldn't break myself from the Captain's gaze. "It's unlocked." His fingers dug into me and I gasped.

"Say it," he commanded.

"Come in," I said, and I didn't think Natch could hear, but I wasn't saying it for Natch.

"Okay," he responded quietly, his eyes flaring and a smile flitting across his lips.

Oh, shit, I had time to think before the Captain slowly pushed into me.

I curled around him, my fingers digging into his back, my teeth scraping his shoulder to keep my cries in my mouth. The pressure so slowly moved into me, the Captain, the Captain was inside of me, going so slowly and it felt so fucking good.

He pressed his lips into my hair, shushing me firmly but gently. I tried to obey him, but it was so hard when his cock was so perfect inside my ass.

I heard Natch moving around the room, and wondered if I should care. Part of me must have, because I tracked him, unable to fully give myself to the sensations and the Captain. The Captain must have noticed. He ran his hand up and down my spine, adding another thing for my already overstimulated body to try and take in. I gasped for air against his neck.

"Relax," he whispered, kissing my temple. I felt his smile against my skin and relished it, the warmth of the expression mixing with his voice and the relentless press of his cock. "You said Natch wouldn't mind."

"Fuck," I responded, but I felt my body relaxing under his touch.

He rested his chin on my head to talk to Natch for a moment, and I let myself focus on the things he was doing to me, to my body. He was fully inside of me now, base of his cock pressed flat against my ass, his fingers still flitting across my back, my shoulders, my waist. I couldn't track them; they were everywhere, nowhere, in all the right places at all the right times. This, I thought, this is as close as we can get. I kissed his neck gently and felt my body shudder with the intensity of the moment.

"Ghost," I heard someone say above me. "Ghost, are you even listening?"

Was Natch still here? I turned my hazy eyes up and found his blue ones looking down, a serious expression on his face.

"Natch," I said, my voice slightly lost in everything that was happening in my arms, between my legs, inside my ass.

"You need to seriously get out of here." He blinked when I didn't respond. It was hard to listen to him.

"Make him leave," whispered the Captain in my ear. I felt myself turning into him as he kissed just beneath my earlobe.

"You should go," I said, but my voice was distracted and Natch shrugged it off.

"Wicky will kill you," he said. He's already said that, I thought. The Captain was still at my ear.

"Make him fucking leave," he whispered again, his eyes meeting mine, but this time it was not a wish but a command. As he spoke, his hand slipped over my chest, down past my stomach and landed on my cock.

I moaned, feeling all of the sensations crash around that one focal point for just a moment. "Natch," I said, my voice ragged. The Captain smiled to hear the way my voice ran from me. I needed Natch to listen to me, I thought. I pulled the sea from just under my skin where it sat in my soul, gathered it into my eyes. The Captain blinked and pulled back, surprised perhaps to see me turn so cold so suddenly, but this was not for him. I turned my head and met Natch's eyes.

He jumped, physically jumped away from me.

"Get out," I told him, and my voice was the sea, it carried shadows of the intensity I was feeling, the need I had been living under for days. It was cold and hard and crashed like a storm and Natch swallowed. He turned and scrambled from the room.

I sighed, feeling the things I carried settle back into the various parts of my body. A gasp left my lips as the Captain reached out and pulled me back towards him.

I wordlessly folded into him, feeling his hand come up to rest on the back of my head, his other still working my cock.

"You," he murmured in my ear. He might have said something else, but I had stopped listening because his hips began to finally shift, moving the teasing pressure that had existed inside of me for the entirety of Natch's visit. I moaned my approval into the small of his neck.

He fucked me quietly, gently, his rhythm always slow and steady. I didn't want anything but this. I was amazed at how good it felt to have such a controlled and tender pace; but of course it felt good. It was the Captain. We pressed against each other, our edges blurring with the pleasure of it all, the closeness of the gestures, our souls rubbing up against each other under our skin.

I felt his hand trembling against my head, and knew that he wouldn't be able to hold off at this pace for long. Gentle was good, and tenderness was important, but we were not gentle men. He needed more, just like I did.

I was right, his rhythm speeding up with his breathing, curses falling from his lips to land in my hair. My mouth responded, falling back to his neck. Wherever it landed it began to coax his blood to the surface, using teeth and lips to mark him as mine, always mine. He moaned into my hair and increased his rhythm again.

His hand was still pumping on my cock. I wouldn't last much longer at this faster pace. I tried to hold off, not sure if he wanted me to wait for his command, but it soon became too much. "Please, sir," I tried, my voice unsteady between his thrusts and my moans. I wasn't sure I would be able to create any more words from the air I could barely keep in my chest, but he saved me.

"Come," he whispered in my ear, voice ragged. His command was all I needed to push me over the edge, and I felt my body seize around him as waves of intense pleasure flooded through my core.

"Fuck," he moaned. He must have felt my orgasm, must have caused one so deep it traveled all the way down to where his cock thrust in and out of my ass because his hips hitched in their rhythm. The hand in my hair tightened, and I cried out. Reflexively he brought his other hand, still covered in my cum, up to my mouth and covered the opening, trying to keep any other noises in.

I gasped at this new form of control, watching his eyes go wide at the sight of me before him. He held my head back and watched me, one hand tight in my hair and the other pressed against my lips. I tasted my cum on his fingers and moaned. He was close now, I could feel it in the way he no longer shook against me but let his body do what it wanted, in the ragged panting that slipped from his lips mixed with curses. Then, suddenly, his hand dropped from my mouth to my shoulder, pressing me down on him. In the same moment he brought my lips to his.

I kissed him, slipping curses over his tongue. I could feel him coming, the heat of him so deep inside of me I wanted to cry from pure perfection. I closed my eyes in the face of it, unable to take in anything but the feeling of him, of the fire inside of me, of the sea that roiled through my core.

At the end of it all, I didn't want to open my eyes. I was afraid that if I did, everything would turn to smoke. Maybe I would find that this had never happened; the tremors of pleasure sliding through my body were a dream, the hands on mine were a dream, I had made him up and I would open my eyes and wake in the mines, or alone somewhere on another ship, or dead at the bottom of the sea.

"You're shaking," he whispered. His voice was real, at least. I took that in, pulled it into my soul.

I kissed his neck, lightly. His neck felt real. He had no room to talk; he had been shaking nearly the entire time. Tremors still moved through his limbs; those felt real as well. I readjusted my grip, pulling him closer.

"Sailor." His voice was light, reaching for me. "Sailor, please look at me."

I opened my eyes and gasped. His face was close to mine, and very, very real. My first reaction was to kiss him again, because how could I not? His lips were there, and they demanded it. His body relaxed against me, feeling the - dare I say it? - feeling the love in my kiss and reacting.

"Fuck," he said quietly when the kiss was over. He traced his finger over my cheek, his eyes following the path they took. He didn't say anything else.

I let him look at me for a little, then settled back against his neck. He was still inside of me. Neither of us made any move to change that fact; we wouldn't be so close, then. It was important to be close, right now. I felt my breath collect in his collarbone as his fingers traced circles on my shoulder.

I could have stayed there forever, breathing against his body. But we didn't have forever, and the world makes you remember that, one way or another. "Aw, fuck," I heard him mutter. I looked up to see him lean his head back, his eyes squeezed shut.

I suddenly remembered the night he'd had before. Hungover, bashed up, and now crashing off endorphins; he could not be feeling good. He needed food, and water. Now.

I pulled myself from his body, gasping as his cock slid from my ass. I wanted to savor that moment, wanted to let myself enjoy it, but there were more important things right now.

He opened his eyes and frowned down at me, but I moved past him to where Natch had put down a tray of food. I settled against the wall beside it, reaching down to grab the Captain. He protested as I pulled him up between my legs, shutting up only as I leaned his head against my shoulder and kissed him.

While he was distracted, I grabbed the bowl that Cookie had sent up. As the kiss ended I slipped it into his hand, then grabbed a spoon and pressed it into his other hand. I had a moment of indecision, then decided he should start with hydrating, so I took the bowl back from him and handed him the cup instead.

He looked like he was going to say something, so I kissed him again. I smiled down at him, happier than I had been in months. In years. My last motion was to pull the covers up over his lap, then I sat back and wrapped my arms around his waist.

He sat there for a moment, finding himself suddenly sitting leaned against me with a cup in one hand and a spoon in the other. Then he sighed, slowly laying the spoon back on the side table. I kissed the top of his head and he leaned into me further, letting his back press into my chest. I watched him take his first sip of the liquid in the mug.