Page 42 of Stealing the Merman

Conall’s face twisted, and he clenched his jaw. “Fuck,” he bit out. “You can’t massage me like that if you want me to last.”

But his words spurred Finn’s body on, and against his will, he tightened around Conall, who grunted, his hands clutching Finn’s sides. He tilted his hips and pressed into Finn’s hole. His thick cock penetrated Finn’s depths, plowing into him no matter how his insides narrowed around him.

“Fuck,” Conall grunted. “Fuck! You’re so damn tight.” Despite the bright day, his pupils were dilated, giving him a mad appearance. “You’re pure, hot silk in there. So fucking smooth and soft and tight.” He slid in another inch. A groan tore from his throat, and he threw his head back. The sight made Finn’s hole clamp down in appreciation, and this time, it was Conall who shuddered.

“You’re going to be the end of me,” Conall said.

He pushed forward, burying himself to the hilt in Finn’s undulating tunnel. Finn’s mouth fell open as Conall speared him. Inside him, Conall felt three times larger than he looked. His girth caused Finn’s walls to burn as they adjusted.

After a short respite, Conall pulled out a little, his shaft dragging over Finn’s receptive nerve endings, lighting them up. Finn fought the vortex of lust threatening to consume his loins. When Conall pushed back in, Finn exploded in pleasure, his inner muscles pumping in release. Conall rode him through it with long, slow thrusts.

But as Finn lost his mind to bliss, Conall quickened the pace. He built a steady rhythm, driving into Finn with verve. He angled his hips, so when he slammed into him, he plunged into his prostate, and Finn shook through another earth-shattering orgasm, vaguely aware of how Conall’s grip tightened, his face contorted.

“Not… going… to… last…” Conall panted, pistoning into Finn. His abs flexed as he shoved into him, biceps bulging with his efforts to hold his writhing body down.

Finn loved being owned publicly, to be taken in front of the entire merman colony and the pirate crew. Conall was claiming him for everyone to see.

Delirious with lust, Finn’s hole cinched shut. Conall’s movement stuttered as Finn’s inner walls clamped him like a vice. Finn never stopped coming around the delicious intrusion. Conall was unable to move in Finn’s tight hold, and yet he fought until his cockhead pressed into Finn’s prostate.

It triggered waves of convulsions, and amidst those, Conall spoke the sweetest words Finn had ever heard: “I’m going to come in your tight little hole.”

Finn spasmed around him, and Conall went rigid. He came with a roar as every muscle flexed, pumping hot cum into Finn in rapid spurts. Watching Conall climax pulled a last, brutally intense orgasm from Finn that left him thrashing and shaking as a final rope of cum splashed onto his chest.

Conall collapsed on top of him, and the hammock groaned in protest but held his weight. Finn closed his eyes and inhaled Conall’s scent of sweat and man and ocean air. He loved his heavy weight controlling him, and the wet pant of his breath against his ear.

“You’re out of this world,” Conall said and kissed his cheek.

Finn trailed his hands over the hot skin of his back. “So are you. Thank you. This is the greatest gift.”

Conall’s lips curled against his skin. “I’m going to wreck you on the way to Vieques.”

“We’re going to Vieques?” Finn thought of Darin. If he left Culebrita, Darin wouldn’t know how to find him. But he also hadn’t shown up in all this time. His hand went to his cowrie shell necklace, and he traced smooth shells and grooved edges.

“Aye. It won’t take long until all pirates there are merman-crazy. There’ll be a trade route for the potion, and you can get as much as you need.”

Finn hesitated, weighing his next words. Then he threw caution into the wind. “Darin was here a few months ago.” Finn expected Conall to tense, but he remained still and relaxed. “He was working on a merchantman that ran into the archipelago.” He swallowed. “We spent a few days together. I don’t know whether he will return, but if I leave, he won’t know where I am.”

Conall’s voice was warm and tender when he answered, without a hint of jealousy. “Oh, he’ll find you, as I did. He won’t be able to stay away forever.”

Chapter Fourteen

Darin

The sounds of the San Juan tavern were dampened by the rum buzzing in Darin’s veins. The songs of the crowd and the stench of days-old grease and spilled beer barely registered. Dim lamps sparsely illuminated the dark wooden tables. Darin picked up his bottle and took another swig, ignoring the glass in front of him. Some days, he joined the men in their raucous bawling, but this was no such day.

He’d returned to Puerto Rico from another long voyage, which had led him first to Mexico, then to South America before looping back north. The pay had been excellent, and he was going to waste it on rum.

After Culebrita, Darin had debated going back and living on the island with Finn, all else be damned. But he hadn’t. The offer to work on a gigantic merchantman came before his desperation peaked, and he took it.

Luis, thankfully, had recovered. When he collapsed on the beach in Culebrita, they put him in a rowboat and paddled full force for Puerto Rico. Luck was on their side, and they foundThe Hastelying in a bay, holding out for their return. Aboard was the ship’s doctor, who, paid from Fernando and Luis’s deep pockets, was one of the best in the Caribbean. Upon Luis’s return to his home in San Juan, he was weak on his feet for a while, but his health improved as the days passed. Darin had gone to see him a few times, trying to focus on something other than his longing for Finn.

He’d spent too much time sulking at the taverns back then, pining for Finn, as he did now. He left Puerto Rico shortly after Kristian, who returned to his home in Sweden, bristling because of some supposed injustice Tarlis had inflicted on him. Darin mentally rolled his eyes at him. Kristian had to get over himself.

The last few months at sea had worn Darin out. The captain he was working under was a difficult bastard—not a hot bastard like Conall, or a friendly bastard like Kristian, just an ugly, old, malicious bastard. It was hell. Darin’s nights were lonely, and dreams of Finn and Conall haunted him.

Darin sighed. He had to move on. Conall hated his guts, and there was no future for him and a merman. But dammit, he wanted one. What did he have to lose? He’d spent his days in the sun with Finn, enjoying his body. They’d catch fish, and Darin would collect fruit from the trees. He could build a hut on the beach… And Finn wouldn’t hump him until his heart gave out. Plus, Darin was two decades Luis’s junior. There was no reason why he shouldn’t go back to Culebrita. Except of course, that it wasn’t practical, that Finn might be gone, that the first hurricane would kill him. But to hell with it. Darin had enough. He could spend the rest of his life wondering what would’ve been, or he could take a leap and do what his heart was screaming for.

Boisterous laughter from the next table pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned toward the men that sat across from each other at a shaky oak table. The tavern girl had put a ratty cloth underneath one leg to stabilize it, but it wasn’t doing much. Two glasses and a half-empty bottle stood on the tabletop, and the men leaned back on the short benches they were sitting on, heads thrown back as they guffawed.

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