Page 31 of Captive of the Pirate King
For a full hour I lie unmoving in the bushes, listening to the pirates’ raunchy stories. Once a centipede scurries across my hand and I nearly scream, but I clamp my hand tightly over my mouth and manage to swallow the sound.
To my complete shame, I’m also incredibly aroused. I’m nude, and there are three naked men a few strides away, discussing their amorous exploits in the most explicit language I’ve ever heard. Not even aboard ship did I hear them talk like this, and my body reacts to the raw sexuality of it all in a way I can’t control.
Locke is mostly quiet, though he contributes a tale of a tavern girl he pleasured with his hand under the table, in the corner of a busy common room.
“Damned if I’m not horny as the captain himself,” says Gorm after a while. “Time to head back to the others and find some women. I’ve sown enough of me sperm over the sea, like a rutting whale. I’d rather spend it in a warm belly.”
I nearly gag. But at least this means they’re leaving.
“You coming, Locke?” asks Tir.
“I’ll stay a few more minutes.”
Even after the crunch of their steps fades, I lie where I am, naked and stiff and traumatized. My skin is dry by now, except for—certain places—
The foliage above me parts, and Locke peers down. I lift my head and give him my saddest pout.
“Poor darling.” His eyes are soft and pitying. “I am sorry you had to stay in there. Can you move?”
“I’m all stiff,” I whimper, struggling to rise. My body aches from the tension, and from lying so perfectly still for so long. “Are there bugs in my hair? If there are, don’t tell me, just get them out.”
Locke reaches down and pulls me upright. An amused smile plays across his lips. “You’ve been aboard ship for weeks and seen all sorts of disgusting things, butbugsterrify you?”
“Leggy poisonous tropical bugs,” I clarify. “I was so scared one of them would crawl up my—um—”
“Want me to check?” He’s still smirking, but his voice has that sultry smokiness from earlier. “I’ve been told I’m very thorough.”
He’s wearing pants now, but I’m still entirely nude. My stomach has bits of grass and leaves stuck all over it. I brush them off angrily. “Gods, I hate men.”
Locke chuckles. “I don’t blame you.”
Clothes in hand, I walk toward the tiny rivulet leading away from the pool. But as I pass through a shaft of sunlight and sense its caressing warmth, I hesitate, letting the bindings, shirt, and trousers drop to the ground and lifting my arms to the light. It just feels so good to stand here, bare in the sunshine, with the warm breeze whispering over my skin.
When I glance toward Locke, he’s motionless, staring at me with a deep, ravenous hunger in his eyes.
“I try not to be that kind of man,” he says hoarsely. “But sometimes—” He shuts his mouth tight and prowls toward me around the edge of the pool, over the sun-warm rocks, through the damp leaves and grasses.
I turn to face him, a wordless consent to whatever he plans to do.
First he lays both hands reverently over my breasts. Though they’re small, he doesn’t seem to care. My toes curl in the damp moss as I relish the sensation, reveling in the way his calluses brush across my nipples and scrape lightly over my stomach.
Then his right hand hooks between my legs, and I inhale at the suddenness of it. The firm, confident intimacy of his hold thrills me to my bones.
Locke bends forward, whispering in my ear. “All that filthy talk made you wet.”
24
A soft mew of helpless need escapes me. I can’t find words. I can only stand here, bare and vulnerable to Locke, silently begging for his touch.
He kneels in front of me, gripping one of my thighs in each hand and urging them apart. I shift my stance, spreading for him. Aching for him, dripping for him.
His tongue trails over me, a lingering glide along my center, and I quiver, laying my hands on his head. Tiny shrill breaths slip from my mouth as he laps and kisses me, as he pushes his tongue in, swirling and then nibbling andoh…gods…oh stars…oh.A pulsating thrill flows from my core, undulating along every limb. I tremble, helpless, hardly able to stand upright as his lips soothe me through the eddies of the pleasure.
It’s a gentle climax, and it’s over quickly, but it’s so satisfying. My body has been craving that release for hours, from the moment Locke joined me in the pool.
Locke stands and wipes his mouth with one hand. “You should dress, before anyone comes this way again.”
“But—you—” I drop my gaze to his dramatically tented trousers.
