Lust in the Caribbean

by Noah Harris

  “I needed to calm him, like I calmed you at Cutlass Cove.”

  “And what sort of pillow talk did you have?” Osier asked.

  Thomas heard movement behind him. He resisted the urge to spin around. He had to act calm, like he wasn’t guilty. If these men decided to jump him he would have no chance. Guile was his only hope.

  “We spoke of the Virtue. I felt guilty about our losses. He reassured me that no one would blame me for it. Is that true?”

  Another sound of movement. What was Paddy doing back there?

  Osier’s gaze flicked to Paddy for a moment, then back at Thomas.

  “Have no fear on that score, sailor. Many a time we have been pursued by the enemies of one crewman or another. It is a hazard of our work. Did you speak of anything else?”

  “No. I mean, only of his strange type of lovemaking.”

  Osier grinned. “You felt the knot, eh? I hear it makes a man be bound to the werewolf in more ways than the mere physical.”

  That last statement came out as an accusation. Thomas almost quaked with despair. “I am loyal to all good companions,” Thomas said, “but most of all my friends.”

  He fixed Osier with what he hoped looked like a sincere gaze.

  The werebear studied him for a moment, then gave a little shrug. “You certainly left my mark on you for some time. You got all the boys excited with that.”

  A chuckle went around the room. Thomas could feel the tension ease somewhat. He gave Osier a sultry smile. “Do you mean the cum you shot all over my face and body? You can do that to me anytime.”

  The stirring in his pants told Thomas this wasn’t just a deception. His mind was confused. He desired Radbert more than any man he had ever met, but now he desired the captain and despite all that had happened, despite knowing the werebear’s true nature, he desired Osier as well.

  Could it be that Osier sensed this desire, that humans sent out a musk of their own that a lycanthrope’s keen senses could pick up? Was it his own body, rather than his fumbling words, that convinced the werebear he was still an ally?

  He did not know. All that he knew was that the werebear’s suspicions eased.

  The same could not be said of his men.

  That musk was a more powerful drug than he had at first realized. Osier wasn’t even emitting it, and he could feel the effect. It was like it had gotten into his blood and he needed it, like a drunkard needs a bottle of rum. Looking at Osier, or indeed any lycanthrope, was like being a sadly sober drunkard offered some booze. The knowledge that it was dangerous had little power against the desire for the sweet feeling that came with quenching the body’s desire. And just like a drunkard, Thomas ran the risk of ruining his life if he didn’t learn to step back and let the rational side of his mind rule over the urges of his body.

  But that spiritual war would have to come later. Right now, Osier was talking to the assembled group.

  “We’ll be leaving soon, and so I want you to be ready. Clean your weapons and make sure you have plenty of powder. No drunkenness, even when you’re off duty. I can’t say for sure when the right time will come, but we’ll have to move fast. You all know your tasks?” The men all nodded and murmured assent. “Then get going, and not a word of this to anyone. Stay sharp.”

  Osier’s men began to file up the stairs to the middle deck.

  “What’s my task?” Thomas asked in what he hoped sounded like an eager voice.

  “To keep your damned mouth shut,” Paddy said behind him.

  Thomas jumped a little. He had assumed the Irishman had headed out with the others.

  Osier smiled. “Oh, I have another task for you at the moment.”

  A waft of sweet, cloying musk told Thomas what that was. As if in a dream he moved over to the werebear. Despite being worn out by the last few days and the fierce werewolf mating he had experienced the night before, he suddenly felt as energetic and willing as if he had not had any excitement in weeks.

  He did not care that his mind no longer wanted Osier. His body did and that was all that mattered. He didn’t even care that Paddy stayed to watch, chuckling as he sat on a keg of rum and cleaned his nails with the point of his knife.

  All that afternoon, Thomas worked on deck with the rest of the crew. At least the caulking had finally taken hold, although many of the crew worried that the hull might have been weakened from the battering it had taken against the Virtue. Thomas hoped the other ship was worse off.

  One team splinted the foremast, which looked like a giant whittled stick thanks to being hit by the British grapeshot. Another team worked on fixing the railing and the various scars left on deck from the artillery. Then the deck had to be scoured and swabbed, every sailor’s least favorite daily chore, although all knew it was a vital one.

  All this had to be done on rolling seas under a leaden sky. It did not smell of rain and Thomas did not sense there would be any more storms. Still, the seas were heavy enough that he wondered how Osier and his followers would be able to sail away in one of the two longboats. He doubted they had enough men to take over the Manhunter, so they would have to sneak away. How they could even do that with so many watchful eyes aboard also remained a mystery to him.

  No one had told him anything. Osier might have trusted him enough to let him live and to take him in his arms, but the werebear obviously did not want to reveal too much.

  It was equally obvious that Paddy did not trust him at all. He shadowed Thomas’s every move, managing to get on his every work team. Captain Seawolf noticed this after a time and sent him aloft to help with the adjustments to the sails. Even up there, Thomas could feel the Irishman’s eyes weighing down on him.

  While Thomas felt tense and ill at ease, at least his heart had been unburdened of some worries. Like before, no man gave him a cross look for what had happened with the Virtue and the Atlantic Lion. It was strange that such a dangerous crew of criminals could be so understanding in some ways. It was like they simultaneously encompassed the best and worst of human nature. Most of all, he was relieved to see that Radbert held him no ill will either. The youth had lost a couple of friends in the battle, and while he looked sad, he spoke with Thomas as fondly as before.

  During a rest break to drink some water and eat some hardtack, Radbert sat next to him.

  “I heard you slept with the captain,” the German said in a low voice.

  Thomas chuckled. “Is there no privacy on this ship?”

  Radbert beamed. “Is there privacy on any ship?”

  Thomas shrugged. “No, I suppose not.”

  The German youth looked at him curiously, sidled closer to him, and lowered his voice even further. “What was it like?”

  “Have you never bedded a lycanthrope?”

  Radbert shook his head. “I was afraid.”

  “Osier is like a normal man, except far more powerful. And that musk is intoxicating.”

  Radbert got a dreamy look in his eyes. “I’ve smelled it coming through the deck on full moon nights. It gives me the most exciting dreams.”

  “The reality is far better. It’s like a drug, though. I don’t think it’s healthy to sleep with them too much.”

  That came out more as a warning to his friend than advice for himself. It had become all too apparent that Thomas could not control himself around shifters.

  “And the captain? Are werewolves different from werebears?” Radbert asked.

  Thomas sighed. “They’re even better. From the very first instant, they possess you. They grab you by the thighs and mount you and there’s no stopping them. And they’re so fast! No human could keep up a pace like they do.”

  Radbert leaned in closer, his blue eyes eager. “I’ve heard their cocks are…different.”

  Thomas flushed, remembering the erotic and overwhelming experience of being knotted the night before. “Strangely shaped, yes, but even stranger is that the base swells while it’s in you. Swells so big, it won’t come out.”

  Radbert’s eyes went wi
de. “You mean you and the captain were…tied?”

  Thomas shifted in his seat. His pants had suddenly become tighter. “Yes, tied for a good twenty minutes while he shot more cum into me than any human ever could. It was so much better than Osier. It was a feeling no other male could give.”

  Radbert shuddered and leaned against him, resting his hand on Thomas’s inner thigh. Thomas tried not to move even though the pressure hurt him. His thighs still felt sore from the scrapes the captain had given him. He buried his face in Radbert’s sweet-smelling hair and smiled.

  He stopped smiling when he saw Paddy out of the corner of his eye.

  The killer sat right behind them eating his snack. He’d heard every word.

  That night Radbert and Thomas made love, a gentle love of kisses and caresses so different than his couplings with lycanthropes. When Thomas wanted to enter him, the German insisted on riding him rather than getting on all fours. After they finished and lay in a warm tangle, Radbert’s ass pressed against Thomas’s slick and spent cock, Radbert asked a question.

  “Do you like having sex with lycanthropes more than making love with me?”

  Thomas noticed the change in terms and it stunned him - “sex” as opposed to “making love.” Yes, that was the difference. With the lycanthropes, it was pleasure unlike anything else in the world, but that was all it was—pleasure. With Radbert, it was different. With Radbert, it was something deeper.

  “I didn’t know we made love,” Thomas whispered.

  As soon as he said it he regretted his words.

  Radbert pulled away, turned around, and glared at him. “So, what are we doing, rutting like with your monster friends? The reason I never had sex with any of them is because of the way they are. I don’t want to be possessed, to be an object. Obviously, you enjoy that.”

  Radbert sat up and gathered his clothes.

  Thomas threw his arms around him. “Wait, don’t leave. I’m sorry. You’re right, I have been acting strange lately. It’s because this is all so new to me. I’ve been hiding in privies and back alleys all my adult life having quick gropes with men whose names I never knew. Something about the impersonal, brutal way the lycanthropes mate reminded me of that. It made me comfortable in a way. It was familiar. Lying here with you is the best thing that ever happened to me, but it’s hard, too. It’s hard to be so open when you’ve hidden for so long.”

  Radbert looked down at him, sympathy welling in his eyes. He put a hand on Thomas’s cheek.

  “Such a tough, brave man, and such an insecure one, too,” Radbert murmured. “You think you are the only one like this? So many of the others are. That’s why I keep these fellows at arm’s length. I accepted myself much younger than most of you, and all I want is a normal relationship with a man, like men and women have. Most of these thugs can only think of sex as some sort of power. They mount a man’s ass the way they board a ship. Conquest and nothing more.”

  “That’s not how it is with us,” Thomas said, and it was the truth.

  Radbert lay down beside him once more, facing him, but he kept a few inches of distance between them. Thomas looked into his eyes, those bright, almost innocent eyes.

  “Why are you on this ship? You don’t belong here,” Thomas asked.

  Radbert gave a little shrug. “Where else would I go?”

  Thomas fell silent. It was the exact same answer Doctor Hartencourt had given him.

  Now he understood a little more why Radbert didn’t want to be only with one man. He was already trapped by being forced to live as a pirate. He didn’t want to be trapped even more.

  Oh, but Thomas wouldn’t mind being trapped like that! Maybe Radbert wouldn’t mind either, if Thomas could get him off this ship somehow.

  “Would you leave if there was a place to go?” Thomas asked.

  Radbert gave a bitter laugh. “Go where?”

  Thomas interlaced his fingers with Radbert’s own. The German tensed a little, then settled into it.

  “So, when you say you want a normal relationship, do you mean like a marriage?” Thomas asked.

  “Why not? Why shouldn’t we be allowed that? I just need the right man.”

  Radbert said that without looking at him, and it cut Thomas worse than a blade through his heart, because he knew that when Radbert was saying he needed the right man he wasn’t speaking of him. He still thought of Thomas as one of the crew.

  Thomas wouldn’t mind having a relationship like that with Radbert. He’d have to be the right man first. He’d have to prove his love for him, prove that he wasn’t just another thug. Then they could have a happy life together.

  But how? And where? Perhaps they could move to Cutlass Cove, where people like them were at least tolerated. Would Radbert agree to that? Perhaps. But what sort of life would they have there? They had some money from the last ship they plundered, but not enough to start a new life. They’d end up living in a shack on the beach fishing, like that man Osier had murdered.

  The treasure! If they could get their hands on the treasure and stop Osier and his men from taking it, they’d get a good share. Captain Seawolf and the crew would be happy enough with them that they’d sail them back to the Caribbean and they could settle in Cutlass Cove. Perhaps some of the others like Seamus and Frenchie and Doctor Hartencourt would come, too. He’d wager more than one of the nicer, more humane pirates he’d met would give up a life of maritime brigandage for a quieter life on a beautiful tropical island.

  First, he had to prove his loyalty to the captain and crew of the Manhunter. And that meant betraying one of the most dangerous fighters on the ship.

  He’d do it. Radbert was worth the risk. When it was all over he’d explain it to his lover, and when Radbert saw how Thomas had risked himself for him, perhaps he’d agree to join him in Cutlass Cove.

  He just hoped that he would have the chance to warn the captain when Osier and his men made their move.

  Two nights later, they did.

  Thomas was on watch that night, standing at the prow looking over a sea that, while the storms had passed, was still choppy thanks to a strong wind. The moon was near full, and its silvery light flickered on the waves. Frenchie had led Captain Seawolf, Osier, and the other lycanthropes into the brig and had taken up position at the stern, as was his habit.

  Thomas looked out over the beautiful waters of the South Atlantic. Despite the late hour the air was still warm. The day had been sultry and heavy, not the pleasant warmth of the Caribbean. His mind cast back there, to Cutlass Cove and the life he might be able to build with his new friends. Filled with such dreams, it took him some time to notice anything amiss on board.

  It wasn’t a sound but the lack of sound that made him turn. Normally in these choppy seas, the man at the helm had to regularly make adjustments to keep a steady course. The occasional creak of the ship’s wheel as the helmsman corrected course by a degree or two was a regular background sound that he didn’t even notice.

  But when that sound stopped, he did notice. There was no one at the wheel.

  That made Thomas instantly suspicious, for the helmsman on watch that night was one of Osier’s men.

  Then he saw the man in the crow’s nest, also a friend of the werebear’s, make his way down the rigging.

  Several more people came up from below and headed for the stern.

  Thomas was about to call out to Frenchie when he heard a thud and a grunt come from his direction.

  Paddy came out from below decks with a bundle under each arm and made straight for him. Thomas gripped his cutlass, for the captain had ordered all those on watch to stand their vigil fully armed. Paddy stopped a few paces from him and grinned.

  “I’ve brought your things,” the Irishman said, and dropped one of the bundles. Thomas saw it was his canvas bag containing his spare clothes and personal items.

  “What did you do to Frenchie?” Thomas demanded.

  Paddy shrugged. “Knocked him out. Don’t worry. I told the lads to be gentle. He
’s a good mate, always treated us fair and square.”

  Thomas headed for the stern. Paddy intercepted him.

  “He’s fine, I tell you. Now be a good boy and help the lads with the longboat, or I’ll have them treat you the same. I don’t want you on this journey, but the boss insisted. He’s taken quite a liking to you. You’re his damned favorite.”

  That last statement came out laced with jealousy. Thomas looked uncertainly towards the stern, where he could just make out Frenchie lying unconscious on the deck. His heart trembled. Then a question rose in his mind.

  “Osier’s changed right now. How are you going to get him on the longboat?”

  “The lads will deal with that.”

  A group of pirates loaded the larger of the two longboats and quietly lowered it over the side. Sentries stood at both hatches. Another group came up on deck from the aft hatch, leading a hulking form.

  They walked out from the shadow of a sail into the moonlight, and Thomas gaped at seeing the werebear in full beast form. He took a step back and trembled. How much had the lycanthrope been transformed when he had mated with him in the woodsman’s shed, or during the darkened nights below decks? Had he looked anything like that?

  He had, of course, seen the werebear clearly once before, when he had stumbled upon the secret of the lycanthropes in his nighttime creeping around the ship. But he had pushed that memory aside, denying what he had seen and deliberately trying to forget it.

  Now the truth came back to him full force.

  Thomas was about to turn away when he noticed something strange. The creature did not growl or thrash about. In fact, it showed little energy or spirit at all. A gleam of something in the moonlight told him why. Osier was manacled, not just with any ordinary bonds but with manacles made of silver.

  Even so, the eight men accompanying him moved warily, keeping their distance while leading him by a short length of silver chain.

  Unconsciously, Thomas touched the pocket where he kept the silver bullets he had fashioned.

  “Come,” Paddy said. It did not come out as a request but, rather, an order.