Chapter 3 #3
“You must stay quiet, darling,” Yves warned. “You wouldn’t want those poor doomed sailors to hear.” A smirk twisted his lips as he moved the collar of Rowan’s shirt aside and pressed a kiss to Rowan’s collarbone.
“So they are doomed, then,” Rowan said breathlessly.
“That all depends on you.” One of Yves’s hands braced against the door beside Rowan’s head, the other moved from his cheek down to his waist. He began slowly untucking Rowan’s shirt.
Rowan could tell Yves was barely keeping himself restrained.
If they were alone on the ship, Rowan would already be naked and stuffed full of Yves’s cock.
But there were witnesses, so Yves took his time.
“Me?” Rowan almost squeaked as Yves’s fingers skimmed beneath the waistband of his skirt.
“If you’re a good boy and keep quiet, I might have a better plan for them.”
“What pla—” Rowan’s words cut off with a gasp as Yves palmed his aching cock. Two months was much too long to be without him.
“A plan where they don’t die, darling. I know how softhearted you can be.”
Rowan’s protest turned into a moan as Yves squeezed his cock through the fabric. Yves tsk-ed and nipped Rowan’s collarbone again.
“You just killed one of those poor sailors with your lack of self-control.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Do you want to take that chance?”
Rowan clamped his lips shut around the next moan. They were both killers, there was no doubt about that, but that didn’t mean Rowan was bloodthirsty. It didn’t mean he could let those men die needlessly if Yves was willing to spare them.
Let the game begin.
He grabbed Yves by the front of his blood and seawater-soaked shirt and yanked him up so they were face-to-face again.
“And what if you make a noise?” he asked. “How do I get to punish you then?”
Yves blinked at him for a moment before his eyes darkened.
“That won’t happen,” he said with surety.
Rowan locked eyes with Yves, bit his lip, and bucked his hips forward, pushing his cock into Yves’s hand. The friction sent heady pleasure straight to his head, all the sweeter for their lengthy separation. But he didn’t make a sound.
Yves captured his lips in a hard kiss, hands delving up beneath Rowan’s skirt to skim his thighs. He stripped Rowan’s underpants down his hips and stroked lightly down the length of Rowan’s shaft. Rowan shivered, but wouldn’t fold so easily.
Yves’s lips roamed freely over Rowan’s exposed skin as he stroked until Rowan was a quivering mess, brought to the edge of completion only to be denied at the last moment. Still Rowan remained silent, his bottom lip dented and bloody with the effort of keeping his sounds of pleasure contained.
“Not going to crack easily, I see.” Yves grinned and pulled his hand away, denying Rowan again. Rowan bit back a whimper, instead letting it come out as a huff of frustration and hopeless arousal.
Yves wiped the precum from his palm into Rowan’s hair, fingers threading through the blond locks.
“If you’re not going to give in, you might as well put that pretty mouth to good use.
” Yves pushed Rowan’s head down, and Rowan obeyed eagerly.
He fell to his knees as Yves released his own cock.
Yves had become much more comfortable with receiving pleasure this way in the year they’d been married.
He enjoyed it so long as he was the one in control, and he always was.
The velvety tip of Yves’s cock pressed to Rowan’s bloody lips.
Yves pushed the back of Rowan’s head, breaching Rowan’s mouth slowly, savoring every inch of slide into the soft interior.
Rowan let his teeth lightly graze along the shaft, sending a shiver through Yves’s body.
His cock hit the back of Rowan’s throat, and Rowan looked up to meet Yves’s eyes.
Rowan still wore his eyepatch, so the demon part of his husband was hidden.
But he sensed the darkness lurking just beneath, and it both thrilled and terrified him.
Rowan swirled his tongue along the underside of Yves’s shaft as Yves withdrew and thrust in again.
He braced his hand against the door, leaning over Rowan’s kneeling form.
Rowan opened up his throat as much as he could, but as always, the limitations of his mortal body proved no match for Yves’s size and length.
No matter how much he practiced, he simply could not accommodate Yves fully.
Rowan wrapped his fingers around the base to compensate, pumping in time with Yves’s thrusts.
Yves moved faster, clutching Rowan’s hair to keep his head in place.
It was strange, doing this in complete silence, but somehow it also heightened everything.
Every small sound they did make felt all the more alluring for its rarity.
Rowan let his mouth be used, his own cock twitching with lack of attention. He stroked it with his other hand, trying to find some release in his own touch. Yves growled low in his throat and nudged his hand away, trapping it between the floor and the silver-capped toe of Yves’s boot.
The next thrust into his mouth was hard and deep. A strangled whimper escaped Rowan’s throat, and Yves pulled his head back. He released Yves’s cock reluctantly, a string of saliva still connecting the tip to Rowan’s bloody lip.
Yves pulled Rowan to his feet by his hair and produced a metal vial from his coat pocket.
“Turn around,” he ordered roughly. Rowan obeyed, facing the door and feeling suddenly exposed with nothing under his skirt in this unfamiliar ship.
Yves’s fingers trailed up the back of Rowan’s thigh to his ample ass.
The cork of the vial popped open, a familiar coconut scent wafting toward him as Yves spread the lube over his fingers.
He leaned close against Rowan’s back, his tall, foreboding presence crowding Rowan against the door.
He kissed the side of Rowan’s neck as he rucked up Rowan’s skirt and pressed his fingers between Rowan’s cheeks, finding his neglected hole.
Rowan held his breath.
“Don’t forget our deal,” Yves murmured, “not a sound.”
Before Rowan could even nod, Yves slipped one finger in up to the knuckle.
Rowan pressed his forehead to the wood, trying his hardest to suppress the moan that bubbled up.
He succeeded just barely. Yves curled his finger, stroking Rowan’s insides in a wavelike motion.
It was too much and yet not enough. He wanted Yves to take him, ravage him like the pirate he was.
He wanted Yves to lose control and show him how much he’d missed him.
But they both held themselves stupidly in check for the sake of this game of silence.
When he was loose enough, Yves slipped in another finger and began to open Rowan up in earnest. His breath wafted hot against Rowan’s skin, and Rowan bucked his hips back to take Yves’s fingers in deeper.
They’d been apart for so long that he thought he would burst with every touch.
The only sound that permeated the room was their heavy breath and the faint squelch of Yves’s slick fingers.
Yves pressed his nimble fingertips to Rowan’s prostate, and lightning raced up his spine.
“Please…” The word left his mouth before he could stop it. It was more of a moan than a word but he was too far gone to care.
“Please just fuck me,” Rowan begged, as Yves’s fingers circled the bundle of nerves again.
“You’re not ready yet,” Yves growled. His fingers moved faster, seemingly on the brink of giving in to Rowan’s begging. Rowan pushed his hips back against Yves’s fingers again and felt Yves’s hard length pressing against his ass cheek.
“I’ve been waiting long enough,” Rowan panted. Yves gripped his jaw and turned Rowan’s head to kiss the corner of his lips. The slick fingers of his other hand withdrew reluctantly and Rowan held back a whine at the sudden emptiness.
“If that is your desire, how can I refuse?” Yves spun Rowan to face him and lifted him into his arms, slamming him back against the door so hard it rattled in its frame. Rowan wrapped his legs around Yves’s waist and buried his hands in Yves’s onyx hair.
Yves kissed him desperately, long tongue swirling through Rowan’s mouth, tasting the iron of his sluggishly bleeding lip.
Yves rolled his hips, cock rubbing between Rowan’s cheeks.
He must have slicked it up while Rowan’s back was turned.
He broke the kiss and tilted Rowan’s hips away from the door, leaving his upper back pressed to the wood.
His fingers tightened on Rowan’s thighs, and even without being able to see them, Rowan thought he felt a few of the tentacles wrap around his back to stabilize him.
Yves met Rowan’s gaze, eyes blazing with lust. He positioned himself at Rowan’s entrance and slammed home.
The door rattled again and Rowan moaned, forgetting for a moment that lives depended on his silence.
Pain lanced briefly up his back as he stretched around Yves’s girth, but it was nothing compared to the ecstasy of being stuffed full of him at last.
Yves smirked at Rowan’s slipup, drawing back and snapping his hips forward again, sending a jolt of pleasure through Rowan’s body.
He choked back another moan, remembering what was at stake.
Yves remained staunchly silent, but with every hard thrust, Rowan could see him losing more and more control, even as he pushed Rowan closer to the edge.
He tugged at the roots of Yves’s hair, eliciting a hiss in response.
Yves’s fingers pressed harder into Rowan’s flesh, and he increased the pace.
Rowan was beyond pain now, riding the tide of unbelievable pleasure.
He gritted his teeth, breath coming out ragged as he fought to keep quiet.
He wanted to scream, howl, profess his love, and moan Yves’s name over and over again until he lost his voice.
The veins in his neck stood out with the strain of keeping it all inside.
His legs shook as divine lightning arced between his bones and suffused his muscles.