Page 68 of Stealing the Merman

“Oh,” Conall said, “I quench his hunger every day.”

“Is that right?” the man asked.

“Y-Yes.” Heat pooled in Finn’s cheeks, and he lowered his eyes as the gaze of every pirate on the table fell on him.

“Hear, hear,” Captain Taylor said. “Having such a gorgeous merman devoted to you adds to your prestige, Conall. Rest assured that every man envies your virility. It speaks to your power that you not only keep a fabled merman but also a smart, frisky boy. I couldn’t manage that.”

It dawned on Finn that in the pirates’ minds, sexual prowess was linked to other things. A captain who had the strength and endurance to keep both a merman and a young man happy was assumed to show the same qualities in duels, in battle and at the negotiating table. Finn suppressed a smirk as he understood what an interesting piece on the board he’d become. If he played to Conall’s masculinity and virility, it could gain him a serious advantage as he chaffered with the other pirates. They already thought Conall was not to be messed with. How would they react if they saw how much control he had over Finn and Darin? Submission came easily to Darin, and although it wasn’t as natural for Finn, he could let this part of him run free tonight.

The plug slid over his prostate as it slowly fucked his hole, and despite his best effort Finn failed to contain the quaking of his body and the filthy sound rising in his throat.

“Look at that,” Captain Taylor said with satisfaction. “Your mere presence has him riled up. That’s how it should be—a powerful man taking charge of his companions.”

Darin got the hint and snuggled closer to Conall, purring as he nestled against him.

“Indeed,” the silver fox said. “A captain has absolute control over his ship during battle, no time to talk, no time to question authority.” Conall went ramrod stiff, but the man didn’t notice and turned to Finn. “We run our ships democratically, but not during battle. It’s all in the pirate code, article three, section A. I reckon it should be the same in the bedroom.”

The captains around the table broke out in crude laughter, and Conall relaxed with Darin and Finn leisurely rubbing against him.

“Someone should add that to the code,” a burly captain shouted at the other end of the table. “Article three, section B: The captain shall have absolute control in time of engagement in the bedchamber.”

Roaring laughter resounded all around the room, along with affirming shouts. “And the dungeon for those who disobey!”

“Then some might disobey on purpose! Chains and whips for everyone!”

The pirates guffawed. Rum was downed and asses slapped. When the commotion calmed, Captain Taylor said, “Your little sex kittens are perfectly obedient. The blush, the downcast eyes…”

“I trained them well,” Conall said with ease and sank a hand into Darin’s copper locks. “This one’s a natural. My merman needs a different approach, but he’s just as beautiful when he does as he’s told.”

“Does he ever stray?” the silver fox asked.

“Stray?” Conall asked and chuckled as if it was the most ridiculous thing. Which it was. “No. I let the puppies play with each other.” He lifted a suggestive eyebrow. “But I remain in full control.”

“Pray tell,” Captain Taylor said, leaning forward on the table, “how does one control a merman?”

Conall leaned forward as well, all conspiratorial, and the rest of the pirates followed his lead as the room went silent. “Magic.”

The word was barely louder than a whisper, but with all attention on him, everyone heard. The pirates exchanged confused looks in the following silence. Then Conall slapped the table, started laughing, and the dumbfounded pirates first blinked, then followed suit in uncontrolled laughter.

Conall had joked, but the message was clear: he was that powerful, in the bedchamber and elsewhere. He pulled Finn closer and licked over his bottom lip, causing him to gasp and open up. Conall slid inside, his warm tongue stroking over Finn’s. Finn knew Conall was putting on a show to prove a point, but the passion he poured into him was real. So was the toy gliding over his most sensitive spot. Finn’s lust boiled over, and he moaned, grinding against Conall, who kissed him breathless. A large hand sank into his hair and fisted it. When Conall finally withdrew, Finn was flushed, panting and ruffled—Captain Taylor, the silver fox and the rest of the pirates stared at him, and he realized with a rush that he had to look absolutely fucked. Conall’s smug expression said as much.

After Conall had asserted his position of power, his attention returned to business. Finn would’ve felt deserted, had it not been for a last detour of Conall’s hand between his legs, giving the toy a carte blanche to wreak havoc on his composure.

Finn controlled his facial expression as the first, gentle set of vibrations traveled through his hole. The plug had stimulated him before, but now it possessed a whole new power. The second round was strong enough to let Finn forget everything around him. The tavern’s sounds and smells faded away, and nothing existed but three things: One, the toy claiming his anus, holding his cock and balls captive and keeping his building orgasm at bay with vicious rings. Two, the bench he straddled, which pushed the plug inescapably deep. And three, Conall in front of him, against whom he subtly rutted his aching erection, hoping to draw no attention as he uselessly attempted to relieve the worst of the pressure.

He laid a hand on Conall’s burly thigh to have something to hold onto as more vibrations, heavier and faster, thundered through his insides. His fingers dug into Conall’s hard flesh, but he showed no reaction and continued his conversation with Captain Taylor.

The temperature in the room spiked. A drop of sweat ran across Finn’s temple, and when the vibrations set on for the fourth time, they didn’t stop, pulsating through his defenseless hole without pause. He pressed his lips together, but a tiny whimper escaped him.

Conall placed a hand on his knee, the touch hot and comforting and arousing all at once. More sweat dripped, dampening his sheer white shirt. Soon, it’d be clinging to his skin, leaving nothing to the imagination as it traced his every muscle and curve. Finn shuddered, and his nipples pebbled and poked the thin fabric.

The toy snaked through him, driving him out of his mind with desire. Then it gently nudged his prostate, and Finn gave a little jump. The pirates were too absorbed in their talks to notice, though Darin craned his neck to check on him, eyes flashing with arousal when he saw Finn’s precarious state.

Another knock to his gland and Finn’s balls climbed despite the ring’s resistance. The loop around his cock tightened angrily, determined to deny him an orgasm while the plug’s efforts shoved him closer and closer to the edge. It reshaped inside of him, and when it thrust, the toy’s surface was covered in bumps and ribs. It slid across his prostate, forcing a restrained moan out of Finn.

“Are you unwell?” Captain Taylor asked and tilted his head, eyebrows drawn together. “You look like you’re running a fever.”

“It’s… it’s nothing,” Finn stammered, struggling to form words with the pulsations against his core.

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