The Pirate King Ch. 07

His fingers lightly traced my face, listening to my curses. "Wanna fuck you," he told me, his voice quiet, too light, all the strings that had tied him down gone, gone, gone, "want you inside of me." His fingers squeezed for a second on my jawline. I could feel his need, feel the way he wanted this. There was a moment of hesitation. "Okay?" he asked me, and this wasn't a command but instead making sure, and I nodded.

"Just tell me what to do," I whispered, and his grip tightened again.

"Oh, I will." He kissed me gently, then let his teeth scrape against my lips. "And you will doexactly what I say."

"Yes, sir," I breathed against his lips. I felt him smile, and then his hand was on my cock, slick with lube.

"Ready?" he asked, and I nodded. He shifted on my lap, then the head of my cock was pressed against his hole. I gasped at the sensation.

Then he lowered himself onto me.

My world exploded. I had thought I was in darkness; what a falsehood. I had simply not had my eyes opened, my world expanded, to experience the sudden brightness, electricity, everything out of nothing. The Captain was around me, to be so close to him, to exist with him like this, such a tightness and warmth and god he wasn't evenmoving yet.

A kiss to my lips brought me back. "Love," the Captain was saying in between kisses, his voice strained but amused, "sailor, come back to me."

"Yes, sir," my voice replied, but I was still gone and he laughed as he planted more kisses on my chin and neck, watching me groan and twitch.

"Gonna move now," he finally said, his face buried in my neck, "and you'renot."

It was all I could do to nod. I guess that was good enough, because suddenly he was moving, and my world was exploding into edges of light again.

He started slowly, maybe thinking he was getting me used to the sensations, maybe getting used to them himself, but there was no getting used to this. Every motion brought a new sharp light, a new brightness into my dark world, and I cursed and tried not to writhe beneath him as my body moved on it's own.

At some point I heard him curse loudly, his fingers tightening on my shoulders where they had landed. He began to increase his rhythm, and I cursed with him.

"Love," he said, his voice desperate and somehow still commanding, "need you to see me."

I nodded, unable to voice anything other than the moans and curses he was pushing from my soul.

"Careful," he told me, panting, "brightness."

He pulled the blindfold off, and I regretted the loss of the darkness for a moment, hated the way the light pushed away the most intense edges of the sensations in the face of vision, but then I saw him there, his face flushed just on the lines of those cheekbones, his pupils ragged in their search of my face, lips parted in gasps and breaths and I looked further down and found his hand stroking his hard cock and the entire view was so fucking perfect that I almost forgot to breathe.

The Captain didn't help that by lunging forward and greedily kissing me, his passion and enjoyment dripping into my mouth with a ferocity and deliciousness that was paralyzing. I moaned into the kiss and he bit on my lip hard, then moved his mouth down my jawline, then to my neck.

We existed only in curses and moans for some time. There was no other way we could have existed, no other way I wanted to exist. Everything I wanted to say to the Captain was expressed in my body in the way I breathed for him, gasped for him, didn't move for him, and he spoke back in the bites on my neck, the fingers he pressed to my throat then danced to my collarbone, the curses he dropped onto my skin, the way he did move for us both, riding me hard and fast. Then, suddenly he snapped his head next to mine. His hand buried in my hair, keeping my head forcibly in place.

"I'm going to count down," he whispered harshly in my ear. "At zero, you can come. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," I gasped.

He pulled back and I saw his face, still flushed, still beautiful, hair bouncing with the force of his movements. His grin was as ragged as his voice, and I loved every inch of it, every millimeter of him, every bit of his soul that he was spilling over into me. "If you can untie your hands by then, you can touch me when you do."

I immediately set to working on the knots he had left me in, my mind completely unable to focus on them for long enough to make any real progress, my hands slipping as badly as my thoughts.

"Three," he whispered, and I worked harder. "Two," and his eyes were fluttering, oh god why wouldn't my fingers work but they were catching, I shook as I slipped again, "one," but this time they held and the knots gave and my hands were almost free, just the tension of the ropes now, just the tension of that last command, and his voice was almost gone and his eyes closed, his head thrown back, and he told me in a whisper that shot through my entire body;

"Come."

The part of my mind that had been working so hard on keeping myself together let everything fly apart, even as my hands flew to his body. And god, oh god, he had come with me and Ifelt it, could feel his body coming with me, seizing and collapsing and the intensity of the moment was so great that I pulled his body to mine and sunk my teeth into his neck so that I would have something solid to feel, so that I wouldn't simply fly to pieces.

We sat there, breathing heavily, my face buried into his neck, his hand tight in my hair. I readjusted and simply pressed my face to him, breathed him in again and again until it felt like there was no oxygen left in my lungs, only him. That was how I wanted to exist; nothing but him. Every part of me, his. I tightened my arms around him and breathed again.

In time, he stirred above me, around me I realized, for I was still deep within him. He kissed the top of my head, his fingers tracing down to find my cheeks. I let them just flutter over my skin for a bit, but soon they became more insistent, hooking beneath my chin and trying to lift my face. I resisted, wanting to stay where I was, breathing him, but he kept pulling and so I let myself be guided up, resting my chin on his chest.

The expression I found on his face chased whatever oxygen was left in my lungs out, and then all that was left was him.

He looked at me with such tenderness, such love, those dark eyes warm and soft and melting all over my face with things I hadn't even known I'd needed until I'd met him, and I reached up and brought his lips down to mine so that he could taste the way my breath had become his, the way I existed for him, and so I could taste the drippings of those eyes closer, and because I needed to fucking kiss him when he looked like that.

"I love you," he whispered into our kiss. The last remnants of those bright edges flared within me, cutting into my stomach and twining around my soul. I pulled him back and kissed him more deeply, but he pushed away. "Fuck, sailor, I just said -"

"I know," I told him, because I did. "And you know that I love you, too." Because he should, because he had to know. Because I did.

He stared down at me, those eyes dripping, those lips open just the slightest bit, and there was no frown in sight, no furrowed brow, because he did know. He'd known ever since he saw me, I think, the same way I had known in my body the moment I had seen him across the ships, even if it had taken me days to admit it in my words. "Now kiss me," I plead quietly, and pulled him back to me.

When he pulled away again, the only things I could find on his face was happiness and content. He sighed and rested his head against my shoulder. I ran my fingers up and down his spine slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin under the rough pads.

"It's late," I said, "We should think about getting to sleep."

"You don't want to sleep in the chair again?" he asked with a smile.

I thought about the cricks in my back, the way my neck had been stiff for hours every morning, not to mention the emotional pain, and winced. "Bed," I said decisively.

He kissed my neck. "I'll get up." It didn't sound very convincing.

"Captain."

He sighed. "Okay, okay." he shifted, then lifted off of me. I saw him wince as my cock slid from within him, and I tightened my hands for a moment on his back. He smiled at me and kissed my forehead, then stepped down to the floor. "Bed, I guess." He gave a strange smirking smile as he made his way towards the bed.

I watched him go, giving myself a moment to just look at him, to take him in. God, he was perfect. How was I going to live without him for three months?

He reached the bed and looked back to see me. "You coming, or what?" he asked, that same smile on his face. I shook my head at him, at the way he was, and stood to join him in bed.

As I stood, I suddenly remembered that we had never untied my legs from the chair. I felt my weight begin to topple over and cursed, windmilling my arms, but it was too late; my momentum and fate were sealed. I hit the floor with a bang, the chair smacking into the back of my legs as it followed me in my trajectory.

"Shit," I muttered to the floor.

I heard laughter and lifted my head to find the Captain all but doubled over in the bed, his hands pushing back his hair. I propped my head up in my hand and watched him, smiling.

"Sorry," he gasped, "oh my god I just, and then you, oh my god I didn't really think you'd -"

He collapsed back into laughter and I just sat there, smiling, watching him.

Three months was going to be a very, very long time.