Page 2 of Stealing the Merman

He’d given Conall no reason to despise him. Bent in half at the waist, Darin worked the cloth into the cracks between the slats of the chest. He’d bet his last coin that Conall’s eyes were glued to his ass.

Chapter Two

Conall

“Most merchant ships reach New Providence by cutting into the Bahamas north of Eleuthera,” the navigator said, tapping the map. “You see, at the northern tip of this island is a group of smaller ones. We can hide there and strike when we spot a target.”

Conall knew that. He’d been a pirate captain long enough to have carried out this exact maneuver a dozen times. And after almost a decade of pillaging, he was tired of it. It was dangerous, too, most pirates perishing within two years of taking up this unsavory career. In a couple of years, Conall would turn thirty, and while many men kept on raiding ships until they tumbled into Davy Jones’s locker, Conall longed for a quieter life in one of the outlaw havens like Vieques.

His gaze flicked to Darin, the real reason he was here. The boy had removed his shirt in the heat of the afternoon, and Conall couldn’t help drinking him in. Darin’s slim form was lightly muscled, and his copper hair stood in beautiful harmony with the warm beige tone of his skin. Like Conall, he must’ve been pale as milk back in Great Britain, but the tropical sun had tanned them both.

The scar on his cheek and a golden hoop earring granted Darin a rough look. If one didn’t stare at his perfect little butt.

Conall licked his lips. He shouldn’t have ordered the boy to wipe the navigation room at the hottest time of day, but he’d planned to sit with the navigator and discuss their route, and why not have something nice to look at while doing so?

Or that was what he told himself. The last month had been an exercise in restraint. Conall had spotted the boy from the balustrade ofThe Pillaging Seasand ordered the quartermaster to hire him as a cabin boy and whatever other position he could fill. It’d been a spur-of-the-moment decision, a second of recklessness.

It’d been a bad idea, as was the charade in the navigation room. Conall knew better than to give in to temptation, but he had needs. At the ports, he could visit brothels or find easy company in a tavern where the choice of perky young men and women was endless. Onboard a ship with twenty unappealing men, he was limited.

Conall used to have steady lovers. Not anymore. He forbade himself to repeat that mistake. The first few short-lived affairs had left him disillusioned. Then came Anne Doyle, and Conall thought he’d met his soulmate. One of the few female pirates, Anne was fierce, fearless, power-hungry and an excellent fighter. They made an unstoppable team and were a force to be reckoned with. They raided ships all over the Caribbean, from Florida to the coast of South America. Conall had pictured growing old with Anne until she betrayed him.

It broke Conall. He ought to have seen the signs. The sex, which had been uninhibited and frenzied, stopped, and the power struggles began. Anne grew cold and distant. She’d always been calculating, but the icy assessment of her gaze should’ve tipped him off. It didn’t.

The repercussions were disastrous, to put it mildly. Word was that Anne was now roaming the Caribbean with another man.

Conall could’ve dealt with another affair that went nowhere, but not with what Anne did to him. He swore he’d never give away his heart again. Never. Again.

The navigator’s finger trailed over the map, pointing out a string of islands called the Exumas, gabbing about the possibility of hiding there. Trapped between his memories and Darin on the other side of the room, Conall’s mind was scattered.

He’d been to the Exumas before, stranded on a sandbank that was shrinking with the incoming tide. Conall clenched his jaw to not show a visible reaction. Of all things, a merman named Finn had saved him. Conall had been warned off those dangerous creatures who lured sailors in with their song, the men disappearing forever. If all mermen were as gorgeous and as good at cock sucking as the one who saved him, Conall knew precisely why those sailors remained lost.

“We should sail for Eleuthera,” Conall said, interrupting his own thoughts. “It’s a good place to lie low until prey comes along. We’ll capture booty and head to Great Abaco.”

The navigator nodded along. “Aye.”

Conall glanced at Darin. He liked looking at him too much, but he could enjoy him, couldn’t he? It’d be nothing permanent if he sampled his flavors. Just a distraction. Conall believed in living one’s dreams and having constant access to sex was one of his. There wouldn’t be a serious lover for him, but he could fuck. And Darin knew exactly what he was getting into when Conall hired him as a cabin boy.

Chapter Three

Finn

The sun was setting over the Bahamas, painting the sky in a rainbow of warm colors. Golden yellow kissed the horizon, above it glowed brilliant orange that bled into pinks and purples which in turn faded to the deepening blue of the evening sky. They were the same hues as Finn’s fishtail, his scales a gradient of sunset colors.

Finn was agitated, his fin jerking in the shallow water as waves rolled onto the beach. Flushes of arousal washed over him in surges, drowning him in unsatisfiable need. He couldn’t breathe. He dropped onto the wet sand and arched his back, balling his hands to fists. A helpless moan fell from his lips.

In the distance, his friends splashed in the water, laughing. All mermen were cursed with never-ending desire, though Finn suspected it was worse for him. It had to be because, unquenchable arousal or not, his friends weren’t on their backs, writhing on the beach, their bodies begging them for a release that would never come.

Legend said an Atlantean prince had angered the god of the sea by marrying the girl they both loved. In retaliation, the angry god struck Atlantis with lightning, sinking it to the bottom of the sea. He cursed the Atlanteans with eternal desire along with fishtails, so that their lust may never be satisfied.

Finn believed it. He was aroused all day, but his body had no way to release all that pent-up need. Mermen were born in giant clams at the bottom of the ocean, thus they had no sexual organs. Their digestive tract ended in their belly buttons and being touched there was unpleasant.

There was one thing that could bring a merman a semblance of relief: a human male. Feeling their touch, tasting their cum satisfied something deep in Finn’s soul. It’d never bring him to completion, but if it was all he could get, he’d take it.

Mermen weren’t attracted to each other. Only human men, well-endowed as they were, appealed to a merman. And it had been far too long since Finn and his friends had lured in a ship full of brawny sailors. There was nothing like men giving in to the sweet call of the mermen’s song. They were fun to play with.

Many moons ago, he’d spotted a man sitting on a small sandbank, stranded in the middle of the ocean. Later, Finn learned his name was Conall.

He was a mountain of muscles, his shoulders broad and his thighs burly. He looked fierce and dangerous with his untamed, long hair, but he was also sunburned and likely dying of thirst. Finn dove underwater and swam toward him. He remembered his friends warning him about these kinds of men. They may be violent, the other mermen had said. Finn threw caution into the wind. Conall was the most awe-inspiring male he’d ever seen, and if there was any way Finn could be of assistance to him, he’d gladly be.

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