Finding Destiny

by Jean Johnson

  Easing his legs up, Ellett sank back into the feather-stuffed pillows. Then winced from his bruises and rolled onto his side. He could tell exactly where she slept when he did that, for she had left a warm spot down the middle of the mattress. Middle ... which means she isn’t used to sharing a bed with anyone. Or has fallen out of the habit. Like me.

  It was clear from the way she kissed that she was no stranger to intimacy, but he was glad she seemed to be single. Seemed to be. That thought turned over in his mind as he felt her climb in behind him and touch something at the headboard. Instantly, the rocking of the ship quelled and eased, until the bed seemed to be lying still. Some of his sea-legs feeling remained, making him a little queasy, but it didn’t last long, thankfully.

  He heard her doing something with the light that steadied it; from the sound of it, she was clipping it into a holder of some sort. A moment later, he heard the soft double-thump that shut off the necessary Artifact. Flame-based light ran the risk of setting something on fire, which meant most ships worked hard to afford the expensive items so that they could have clean, steady light belowdecks.

  “Uh ... Mita?” he asked, distracting himself as the nausea faded. He tucked his arm over the blanket and sheet she drew up into place.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “I’m not going to be attacked by ... by a jealous husband, once we reach land? Or a crewman? For being in here?” he added in clarification, still trying to seem like he was more injured than he really was. If someone did attack him, they’d get a nasty surprise; Ellett was fully capable of fighting even with a mild concussion, since he had done so in the past.

  “The closest you’d get is probably my bo’sun, and he’s already attacked you once tonight. He’s also happily married, with three children,” she stated, pulling the covers up a little higher. Mita paused a moment, then added, “Mind you, I might attack you in my sleep. I tend to sprawl a bit. I haven’t had to sleep in a hammock for two years, now that I’ve made captain—and I definitely do not sleep with my crew. They might with each other, but not with me.

  “I won’t play favorites, and I won’t disrupt their discipline.” She paused, then added, “I also checked you for diseases. You’re clean. And you have a contraceptive amulet, like I do. Which is good, since one can never be too careful about such things. Um ... not that there will be such things. You do have a concussion, right now.”

  Ellett merely grunted, since there wasn’t much more that he could add to that.

  Silence descended between them, broken only by the creaking of the ship and the splashing of the prow through the milder waves, the only thing left of the midday storm they had suffered. He felt her squirming behind his back, shifting the feather-stuffed mattress a little with each movement.

  “Ugh. Heave to,” she finally muttered. Unsure what she meant, Ellett cautiously rolled back toward her. She poked him in the shoulder. “The other way? Heave to the gunnels, land-man, not to the captain—in this case, the gunnels mean the edges of our little boat.”

  “And here I thought it was a bed,” he retorted, squirming forward on his side. That brought him up to a pillow which smelled like her. Ellett couldn’t remember noticing it before now, but there it was, a mix of warm woman, linen, feathers, and the pervasive scent of the somewhat salty sea. It was a surprisingly good combination. And a somewhat confusing one. His mind wanted to relax at the scent, but parts farther south wanted to wake up.

  “Don’t make me keelhaul you,” she warned, though she chuckled as she said it. A moment later, he heard Mita yawn, then sleepily order, “Go back to sleep, land-man. I’ll keep you safe from any more rotting hammock ropes.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Though as he lay there, Ellett wondered who or what would keep him safe from her, or her safe from their destiny.

  The temptations of this moment go far beyond a “gentlest touch” and well into the realm of ... of matchmaking, for lack of a better term. Everyone knows Ruul is a romantic. He loves every one of his Seers’ brides. He also loves foretelling happy marriages to His petitioners. So ... was His prophecy an attempt at uncovering the real troubles and settling the peace between our two peoples ... or an attempt at matchmaking a peace between us?

  It wasn’t without precedence. Princess Gabria had originally thought she was being summoned to the Seer King’s court as an envoy, only to discover she was meant to be Devin’s bride. And as much as I’d like to claim this concussion idea was just to make her feel more sympathetic toward me ... after that kiss in the front cabin, I don’t think I can honestly say my motives were aimed purely at mere sympathy.

  She is beautiful, after all. And a very good teacher, explaining the specific spells she used throughout the progression of the storm. That, however, drew up a very good point in his mind. If Ruul pointed me in her direction for matchmaking reasons, if He thinks we’d be compatible as more than just friends or temporary lovers ... what would happen to our careers? I’m not quite ready to hand over the Royal Guard to my Leftenant—or rather, she’s not quite ready to take on the responsibilities just yet, though I could always hope she’s finally learning how to handle disparate personalities as a leader—and I’m fairly certain Mita loves being a ship’s captain.

  That is, presuming we are meant for each other. Nothing’s guaranteed, and the logistics would be awkward ...

  He normally wouldn’t think of himself as a romantic man; he was a mage-warrior, a practical man. But lying there on her stabilized bed, feeling the warmth of the woman sharing it with him, inhaling her scent with each breath, Ellett found himself daydreaming potential solutions to each scenario. Closing his eyes, he assessed the troubles of various match-made possibilities and worked through strategies to surmount them, until his daydreams turned into real dreams and he slept.

  Someone was fondling his rod. It took him a few moments to crawl up out of the erotic dream that was trying to consume him and come fully awake, but he did, and it was because someone was definitely fondling him. In fact, that someone was plastered all over his left side, head pillowed half on his chest and half on his bicep—numbing his left arm—with their knee and calf curled around his left leg. He could even feel a soft breast pressing into his lower ribs ... and its owner’s hand on his groin, tucked inside his sleeping trousers.

  He opened his eyes, dazed and unsure what to do.

  For a moment he couldn’t see anything. Not because it was dark—there was some light filtering into the cabin from outside, with that gray shade that said dawn wasn’t far away—but because her thumb was rubbing slowly back and forth across the little arrow-dimple on the underside of the tip, and her fingers were lightly squeezing him where they had wrapped around the shaft. Mouth dry, panting, he blinked until he could focus on the planks of the ceiling overhead. The subtle, gentle movements of her long, strong fingers threatened to shatter his wits, but he clung to them, trying to figure out what to do.

  Craning his neck allowed him to confirm that, yes, it was Captain Mita who clasped him so intimately. Her auburn hair spilled over his chest in a short, tangled mess, obscuring most of her face, but it was definitely her. Lying on his back as he was, the bruise on the back of his head still hurt a little from his fall, but the soft bedding cushioned the worst of the pain. The rest of it was no match for the pleasure evoked by that lazy stroking from her thumb.

  It was all he could do not to lift his hips up into her hand. Worse, he didn’t know if she was awake and conscious of what she was doing to him. If she’s aware, and therefore taking advantage of me in my sleep ... well, that’s dirty play, and something I’d expect more from a pirate than from the captain of a flagship. But if she’s doing this in her sleep, she might wake up embarrassed, or worse, accuse me of coaxing her into it, when technically I’m the victim, here.

  Worst of all, he thought, closing his eyes in the effort to restrain the urge to rub crudely up into her hand, she might stop ...

  Her body tensed, and her hand stopped. A moment later, h
er head lifted slowly, warily from his chest. Ellett was not quite ready to meet her gaze, but he knew he had to speak.

  Looking up at the ceiling once again, he confirmed her suspicions. “... Yes, I’m awake.”

  “Oh.” Half levered up onto her elbow, Mita very carefully opened her hand, releasing him. “I, ah ... uh ... sorry?”

  His rod throbbed, protesting at the lack of warmth and stimulation. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and disappointment. His left arm tingled, blood and feeling returning to his limb. Other parts of him could find some humor in their situation, mainly his mind. “If this is what you meant last night by ‘attacking’ me in my sleep ... I’m not in any shape to object right now.”

  That startled a chuckle out of her. “... Sorry. I was, ah, having some rather nice dreams in there. Very nice. But it wasn’t my intent to molest you in either of our sleep—how’s your head this morning?”

  “Aching,” he admitted. Then added candidly, “Both of them.”

  She laughed again. “Well, considering I inadvertently made one of them ache, would you like me to fix the problem?”

  “Yes, please,” he replied politely, if a bit breathlessly. She started to get up out of the bed. Ellett snagged her sleeve. “Where are you going, woman?”

  She turned back and winked at him. “To fix the hammock, of course.”

  Ellett tried to laugh, but his rod ached too much to do more than groan. Thankfully, she slid her fingers slowly down his torso. She also leaned over far enough that he got a glimpse of her breasts through the gap in her loosely gathered neckline. Close enough that he was torn between cupping one through the age-worn linen and pulling her tousled head down into range.

  Her hair, barely shoulder-length and thus short by Aurulan standards, lured his fingers up to play with the tangled strands. They were very soft. A corner of his mind wondered what she would look like with wedding roses braided into her hair, while another corner wondered what the Jettans did for their marriage ceremony, particularly if they had no Gods to bless their unions.

  Breath catching, he tensed as she slipped her fingers under the waistband of his sleeping trousers. It stayed caught as she pushed the material down out of the way with her wrist, fingertips feathering over his hot skin. All that pent-up air left his lungs when she smoothed her palm gently over the curve of his sack, cupping his flesh. It sucked right back in again, making her chuckle.

  That firmed his determination. She may have power over me right now ... but I can have power over her, too. Sliding his fingers through her hair, he pulled her head down to his. Pulled that generous, soft mouth down to his. Mita didn’t resist; she met him kiss for kiss, each taste and nip as hungry as his own.

  Once she was participating, he freed his fingers from the soft strands of her hair and slid it down her throat. He couldn’t push aside her shirt as she had his trousers, but he could slide his fingers over the linen, teasing her breasts. Mita purred into his mouth and slid her fingers up to his rod, encircling it. Squeezing it. He retaliated by abandoning her breasts in favor of points farther south. It helped that she scooted closer, bringing her mound into reach.

  What he found, once he eased his fingers into her folds, was enough to make him shudder and bite his lip. Slick and hot, her body gave him ample proof she was enjoying this early morning interlude. Ellett did his best to coax more of her liquid essence from her body, rubbing the edge of his forefinger gently through her folds. Mita squirmed and tightened her grip on his shaft, arousing him further.

  “Ah—Gods!” she hissed, pulling back from their kiss. He frowned at her, since the move pulled her out of his reach, but not for long. Yanking back the bedding and tugging down his trousers, she quickly climbed over his hips. Ellett hastily grasped and guided his tip when she lowered herself; she teased him for a few moments, rubbing and nudging, then sunk slowly onto his rod.

  Heaven. Absolute heaven. More so, when she pulled up the hem of her nightshirt and tossed it aside. While her face and throat and arms, and even a bit of her chest were tanned from years spent on the water, her breasts were a paler shade, tipped with dusky rose discs that begged to be kissed. She didn’t lower her torso into kissing range, however. Instead, she closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath ... and squeezed.

  Ellett choked on his own breath. She moaned as she did it again. So did he, eyes rolling up as he struggled with his body’s demand to pound and pound and spend himself. Just as he reached for her hips, needing the leverage gained by gripping them, a noise nearby startled both of them.

  “Captain? Captain!”

  “Gaah! Skodeth!” Lashing out her hand, Mita zapped the door handle with a red spark. It washed over the latch in what Ellett guessed was a locking spell. A bare second later, the man on the other side of the door tried to open it, but barely jiggled the lever. He pounded on it, calling through the panel.

  “Captain, are you in there? The Aurulan’s gone! The slimy sea-spy’s gone missing, Captain!”

  She bared her teeth in a cross between a snarl and a grimace. “No, he hasn’t, Jukol.”

  “But he’s not in his hammock!”

  “You mean the rotten one you dug up out of the bilge for him?” she shot back, glaring at the door. “Bo’sun Jukol, your little trick gave our guest a nasty concussion. I’ve been forced to tend him all night because I don’t trust your asinine attitude not to have rubbed off on your brother, and I haven’t had a lot of sleep as a result. You also know that First Officer Peany has the night watch! You are not to disturb me in the mornings unless we’ve run aground, are being pursued, or the ship is on fire! Maintain discipline, Bo’sun Jukol.”

  “... Aye, Captain.” The bo’sun sounded subdued, rather than belligerent. Mita released a heavy sigh after they heard the front door to the captain’s cabin shut.

  With some of his own urgency diminished by the unwelcome intrusion, Ellett wondered if she’d lost hers. Before he could ask her if she wanted to stop, she rolled her eyes, shook her head, and looked down at him.

  “Sorry for the interruption. How’s your head? Does it still ache?” The gleam in her eyes matched the curve spreading those lovely lips. “If it does, I was thinking a massage might help.”

  She tightened her inner muscles just as he started to reply. Losing his breath, Ellett could only gape at her. He drew in another lungful of air, only to lose it a second time when she repeated the intimate squeeze. Mita laughed softly.

  “Poor thing, looks like you’ve been struck speechless,” she murmured.

  That narrowed his eyes. She could torment and torture him with the delights of her body all she wanted, but she would not mock him and get away with it. Gripping her hips, Ellett pushed her up a little, then pulled her down, circling his hips as he lifted them to meet her. Her hazel eyes widened and a delighted smile curved her mouth. A squeeze of her flesh met his next spiraling stroke, as did the ones that followed.

  Holding her gaze, Ellett made love with her somewhere between languid and heated. The bo’sun hadn’t spoiled their mood so much as tempered it, thankfully. But as the sun rose in the east, gleaming through the port-side windows, their tempo rose as well. Gripping his hands for balance, she started curling her pelvis forward with each downward stroke.

  With the sweat of their efforts sheening her skin, her hair glowing red in the intermittent rays of the sun peeking through the windows—the bed they were on felt as steady as if it were on land, but the ship still bobbed up and down with each passing wave—Ellett thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He wanted more than anything to see what she looked like when she came undone.

  Shifting her hands to his chest made two things available: his own hands and her breasts. They swayed enticingly with each stroke of her body. At least, until he cupped them. The soft mounds weren’t overly large, but they didn’t need to be. In fact, the best part was how the pebbled tips of her breasts slotted perfectly into the gaps between his thumbs and forefingers. That allowed him to knead
and gently roll the various bits of her flesh, until she shuddered over him, gasping his name.

  The feel of her breasts in his hands connected itself down through his arms to his abdomen, joining with the squeezing bliss of her inner muscles, heightening his own pleasure. When she sagged, replete, Ellett lowered her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist. The angle was different in this position, not quite as deep, but still enjoyable. Listening to her pant as she recovered, he reveled in the way she covered, even clung, to him, leaving him free to thrust as he wished.

  She sighed against his neck, then shifted her head. An exploratory lick of her tongue along the lobe of his ear broke his careful pacing. It caused a shock wave of pleasure which exploded both down through his chest and up from his toes, gathering in the heavy fullness of his rod. Pulling on her hips, Ellett held her close and poured himself into her heat, groaning with each mind-reeling pulse.

  Slowly, his muscles relaxed. Before any post-bliss lethargy could lure him back to sleep, Ellett shifted his hands from her hips to her face. A tilt and a nuzzle allowed him to find her lips, kissing her in thanks for their lovemaking. She sighed and kissed him back for a few moments. Sitting up, Mita smiled down at him.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Mmm, yes.” Ellett paused thoughtfully, then added, “Unless I should have a relapse later tonight. I just might need more of your tender ministrations to make me feel better, again.”

  She chuckled. “We’ll see.” Climbing off of him, she steadied herself at the side of the bed. “Oh—you may want to just stand by the side of the bed for a couple moments so you can get used to the movement of the ship again.”

  Nodding, he watched her move across the cabin. There were three doors in this inner chamber; one led back to the captain’s office, one led to the head, the charming nautical term for the closet that passed for a refreshing room, and a heavily locked and rune-warded door which Captain Mita had dismissed as “the ship’s vault” last night. If they had succeeded with their raid on the Parrot’s Ride, no doubt the most valuable of goods would have been locked behind its stout walls.