Chapter Seven #3
He would have pulled Wes aside then and there, but the captain of the merchant vessel needed to sort out the contract she had with the Starian Navy, which was apparently tied up in some nonsense from an official in Katoikos.
So Delauney had to stand there in agony, unable to think of anything until the merchant was on her way and he could drag Wes behind a building.
“Are you well?” Wes asked.
“I’m not taking advantage of you, am I?” Delauney asked, speaking too quickly. “Am I favoring you? Do the other sailors resent you for it?”
“Of course you favor me,” Wes said. Delauney slumped in horrified defeat. “You favor everyone. You doubled Tiffan’s pay for months because her wife just had another child, for example.”
“But she has three already, and there was that business with the ox in their garden,” Delauney tried to explain.
“That’s another thing,” Wes said. “Noble officers don’t know how many children their sailors have.
They don’t know about oxen or financial troubles.
All they know how to do is drink expensive brandy and bellow when pirates appear on the horizon.
You’re practically a commoner in that way.
” He adjusted Delauney’s collar, which had gone askew.
“Even if all of your clothes are worth more than a sailor’s salary in a year. ”
“You do know that you’re defending the virtues of someone in the gentry,” Delauney said. He still felt a little unsure after his conversation with Ned, but Wes’ nearness made him feel oddly reckless and light. “Have I reformed you?”
“Absolutely not.” Wes took Delauney by the shoulders and spun him around. “Can anyone see us?”
Delauney leaned around the corner of the building. Ned, Peter, and the girls were only just visible, heading away from them toward the orange grove. The other sailors from the Manatee were still arriving, milling around the docks and bartering at the stalls lined up by the sea.
“No one we know yet,” Delauney said.
“Good.” Wes dropped to his knees on the sandy path. The submissive part of Delauney desperately wanted to pull him up again, or at least join him. Before he could say anything, Wes tugged Delauney’s trousers down to take out his cock.
“I know you want to be down here,” Wes said. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft of Delauney’s cock. “I can see it in your eyes. But think about it. You’re the one on display for any passing dominant. All they’ll see of me is the back of my head.”
Delauney sucked in a sharp breath at that.
“But it’s wrong to not be on my knees.” His voice died with another gasp as Wes took his cock in his mouth.
It was still soft, but that wouldn’t be a problem for long, because Wes seemed thoroughly determined to tip Delauney over the edge.
He held Delauney against the wall with both hands on his thighs as he hollowed out his cheeks and dragged back, his tongue sliding hot and wet on the underside of Delauney’s cock.
A man walking by raised his brows at them, and Delauney’s face went hot even as a thrill rippled over his skin.
He glanced around the wall again, caught in a tight prickle of fear and bewildering pleasure as he spotted a group of sailors approaching from the Manatee.
“People are coming,” he whispered.
Wes drew back. “Someone should be,” he said. “Do you want me to stop?”
Delauney thought about it. He should want to hide, but what he wanted more was to be seen; to be like Wes on that beach with those strange dominants, laid bare and breathless with desire.
Still, Ned had a point about sailors resenting people who bedded officers.
He started unbuttoning his jacket. His fingers fumbled as he heard footsteps on the path behind him, and just as shadows slid around the corner, he took Wes’ head in both hands and guided his mouth to Delauney’s cock.
“They can’t see you,” he whispered. Before he could gather the strength to push Wes onto his cock entirely, Wes did it for him, swallowing him to the root. Delauney quickly wrapped his jacket around Wes, shielding him from the sailors rounding the corner of the building.
One of them stopped, staring at Delauney. He was an older sailor, a gunner who played fiddle in the evenings, with dark black hair tied up in a knot and a scar at the corner of his mouth.
“Sir,” he said, saluting slowly. Delauney felt his face go beet red. Wes took that moment to bob slightly on his cock, making a wet, terribly audible sound as his throat constricted around Delauney’s girth.
“Sailor,” Delauney choked out, holding the ends of his jacket around Wes’ head. The sailor nodded and walked on, but the others openly watched as they passed, craning their necks for a better view. Impossibly, that only made Delauney harder.
“I didn’t know that the captain hired street whores,” one of the sailors said.
“We all have needs, Jan,” another said.
“At least he’s human,” Jan said. “Shame we can’t see what he’s choking that fellow with. Sounds nice.”
“Jan, that’s our captain!”