Page 32 of Stealing the Merman

“You’re beautiful,” Finn said, and Darin didn’t understand.

How could someone as stunning as Finn say that to him, a plain boy from London? But he didn’t want to argue and simply answered, “You too.” His voice was hoarse—had he screamed?—and his throat was parched.

A smile spread across Finn’s face. He glowed with happiness. Behind him, one of the other mermen dropped into the water and swam toward the cave’s exit. Finn turned, watching his friend. Another merman followed. “I think they’re going to collect freshwater for you and the other men to drink. I should go with them. You must be thirsty. Will you be all right? I won’t be long, and then I can give you water.” A corner of Finn’s mouth pulled up. Oh yes, he had many reasons to keep Darin well hydrated.

“Sure,” Darin said, stifling a yawn. His eyelids were heavy, and he was grateful Finn was going to get him water. He didn’t think he could move if his life depended on it.

“I’ll be right back,” Finn said as Darin’s eyes closed. “I’ll leave the toy in you. You can’t remove it without me, and it will keep you nice and hard.”

Darin wanted nothing more. The throb in his hole was constant and pleasant. Then, Finn was gone. Darin dozed, stuck in a state between wakefulness and sleep. The burble of the water lulled him in, inviting him to let go and drift off into the land of dreams. His hips jerked with the pulse of the toy. The rings had firmed up but weren’t uncomfortable. Their snug fit was a reminder Finn was near and that Darin belonged to him.

A splash. Through the fog of his mind, the commotion in the cave vaguely registered. Something was happening, but Darin was too out of it to care. He half-opened his eyes. There was a shadowy figure above him. It wasn’t Finn, and therefore, Darin didn’t care, his lids falling shut again.

Voices echoed off the walls, hushed but urgent. Darin caught fragments of the conversation. The word “escape” was muttered. Escape from what? Someone ripped at the rope binding his wrists. The coarse fibers scratched him, and Darin was about to complain when he realized it was Kristian. He gave the rope another firm tug, and it snapped. Darin’s hands were free. He rubbed his wrists as he tried to understand what was going on.

“Can you swim?” Kristian asked.

“Yes,” Darin said, dazed. What kind of question was that?

“You look like you’re about to pass out.”

And? He had every right to pass out after experiencing one orgasm after another.

“We have to go,” Kristian said. He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word as if he was talking to a child. “Now.” His cheeks were red and his teeth gritted as if something was bothering him.

Darin sat up. His head punished the sudden move with a nausea-inducing headache. Finn was right, he needed to drink.

“Darin,” Kristian said. “Look at me.” He did, and his gaze drifted across Kristian’s large form leaning over him. Darin regretted it when his eyes fell on a bright red toy holding his cock and balls captive. That wasn’t something he’d wanted to see, and he turned. At least he knew what was bothering Kristian. This stuck-up Swede had to relax. Cold bastard couldn’t enjoy the simplest pleasures.

“The mermen are gone,” Kristian continued. “This is our chance to get away. So move.”

Kristian wasn’t making sense, but Darin dreaded a confrontation with his captain and offered no resistance when Kristian helped him off the rock and into the water. The sea lapped at his torso as he waded toward the mouth of the cave. The occasional, involuntary moans the other men spilled told him all of them wore plugs stimulating them. Darin did his best to keep his eyes straight ahead, not wanting to see the men’s erections. His captain’s had been bad enough, he could do without the two Spanish merchants, who were effectively his employers. Funny. Before he’d met Conall and later Finn, Darin wouldn’t have minded getting an eyeful of a stranger’s cock.

Outside the cave, glistening sunlight reflected off the water. Darin squinted as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. The seafloor quickly fell off, becoming too deep to stand. Darin floated into a swimming position and immediately regretted it—the shift moved the plug, and its devilish vibrations pressed, dead on target, into his prostate. Raw need zapped through him, and Darin dunked his head to let the sea swallow his wanton groan.

“Let’s try and find the rowboat we came in on, with any luck it’s still floating around somewhere between the islands,” Fernando said as they swam.

“If the crew didn’t take it,” Luis panted. For the first time in hours did Darin turn to face him. Luis didn’t look good. His olive skin was strangely wan, and beads of sweat ran down his brow. Was he ill?

“I’m sure they would have left it behind for us, in case we got a chance to escape,” Kristian said.

Darin couldn’t concentrate on what the men were saying. The toy pulsed ceaselessly, making his gland sing. His anus undulated around it. Every stroke he swam caused the plug to prod his sweet spot. If he crossed another hundred yards, he’d come. In case he didn’t drown by then. The slow, heavy throb against his eager core was so distracting, Darin didn’t know how to swim anymore.

He paddled his arms and legs, making little progress in terms of distance. His progress toward climax was a different story. He shuddered when a particularly good nudge made his eyes roll back in his head. He forgot to beat his legs and ended up with a mouthful of seawater. Coughing, he spat it out.

Kristian, Luis and Fernando were farther ahead and part of their conversation carried over the water. There was one word, however, that tore Darin out of his trance.Escape. They were escaping. They were attempting to get away from the mermen.

Darin nearly laughed. He’d heard these men moan like whores as the mermen had their way with them, and now they pretended all they wanted was to flee. It was ridiculous. It would’ve been funny if it didn’t mean that he was about to lose Finn. The realization hit him like a sledgehammer.

Panic seized his heart. He couldn’t go through this again. He’d spent months thinking of Finn, of Conall, and he was finally reunited with one of them. Not that reuniting with Conall would be a good idea. It’d end with Darin’s head on a stick. Finn was different. Darin wouldn’t be ripped from him. Not if he had a say in it. But the men would drag him away if he resisted, thinking they were doing him a favor.

What was he supposed to do? Fear tore at him. The reliable hum against his prostate was a warm comfort, telling him that he was Finn’s, that they were connected. Finn had said Darin couldn’t remove it on his own—if that was true, it’d be the case for the other men as well. Consequently, they’d be forced to see the mermen before sailing away. Their plan was mush, which Darin was grateful for. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Finn. Not yet—no. Not ever.

He glanced at the men, who were swimming a good fifty to a hundred yards ahead of him, Fernando out the farthest. Darin had to intervene. But how was he supposed to do that when swimming in a straight line posed a challenge? The toy nudged him, and he tried too late to swallow his moan.

His rescue came in the form of four fishtails fluking in the water. Sunset-colored, sky blue, ruby red and jade green, it was clear whom they belonged to. Darin breathed a sigh of relief.

Not ten seconds later, Finn popped up in front of him. “Where are you going?” Finn asked.

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