A Pirate's Dream

by Marie Hall

  If his nipples were just like hers, then surely he would enjoy it if she did other things. She’d done it once to herself, out of curiosity, and had nearly come up off her seat from the pleasure.

  Leaning over, she kissed it first. He sucked in another sharp breath, but she didn’t move this time. Instead, she opened her mouth and laved her tongue across the sensitive bud.

  His spine arched. “I am dying,” he grunted.

  But when she peeked at him from beneath the curtain of her hair, he didn’t look at all as though he were dying, so she chose to ignore that comment. She swiped at his nipple again.

  He tasted of seawater and herbs. She smiled. “I like your taste, beluga.”

  His response was a deep, thundery groan.

  She kept her attentions focused on his nipple for a while longer, but she soon decided there were more delicious spots on his body to explore. With a final flick of her tongue, she worked her way down the center of his rippled abdomen until she came to the small dip in his belly and snuggled her cheek against it.

  “Gods, you’re so hard and soft all at the same time.”

  A choking, sputtering laugh spilled from him. “From anyone else, little pirate, and I’d kick them out of my bed.”

  “You forget—” She sank her teeth into the meat of his stomach, making him hiss and writhe beneath her. “This is my bed.”

  She patted the now-glowing red spot and gave him a satisfied sniff.

  “Nimue, you truly are a barracuda.” He brushed his fingers over the patch of discolored skin, but he didn’t at all seem unpleased by it.

  Then his brows dipped, and the waves in his eyes became jagged, spiraling towers. “Have you been touched before?”

  “Aye.”

  His hands latched on to her biceps, not hard enough to hurt her, but with an urgency that caught her off guard. The waters between them suddenly churned, writhing like living serpents.

  “I will kill the legger,” his voice thundered.

  Fighting to contain her laugh, she smacked his chest. “I should kill you for even threatening to do so. I know of the mermaids who’ve floated through your chambers, you bastard king. If you can have your share of paramours, why shouldn’t I? In the above, I’m considered quite the catch.”

  Not exactly true. She’d hardly been around any men who weren’t pirates and also off limits to her, courtesy of her father threatening to rip off their princely jewels if they should even dare to look at his daughter cross-eyed. She’d managed some harmless flirtation in the past, but nothing that could have gotten any of them into any serious danger.

  In truth, she’d never lain with a man, legger or otherwise. But she’d be damned if she’d tell him so. Had she felt inspired to do so, she would have. No, the only touching she’d ever known was by her own hand.

  He sighed, and instantly, the waters settled. “You are right, Nimue. It is only that I—”

  “Wish to murder anything that had the privilege of learning you first?” She arched a brow. “Aye, I’m familiar with the sentiment.”

  He cupped her cheek. “I am sorry. Do you forgive me?”

  “Beluga, even were you an unsightly, hideous thing, I should always forgive you.”

  Contentment rolled across his features once more. “Then by the Gods, do not stop.”

  Smirking, and feeling brazen, she snaked a leg around his waist, so that her warm center rested firmly upon his waist and his thick hardness pressed tightly against her ass.

  His nostrils flared. And the room grew suddenly twice as hot. The fluttering beat of her pulse signaled in way that words never could that they’d reached a point from which there was no going back.

  “Sircco?”

  He swallowed hard. “Nim?”

  She didn’t know what to do now. She didn’t know whether to simply impale herself upon him as she’d seen a stallion do to his mare or whether there was some other thing she was supposed to do.

  The storm in his eyes grew marginally calmer, as if he understood her dilemma.

  “Put your hands on my chest, love, and scoot back just a little.”

  Sinking her teeth into her lip, she trusted him enough to do as he said. Lifting up, so that she wouldn’t hurt him, she found herself suddenly staring at his cock and couldn’t seem to rip her gaze off it.

  By the Gods, it was large.

  She’d have had a hard time wrapping her hand around it, but she liked that it wasn’t nearly as purple as the only other one she’d ever seen. And there was a vein, but only one, and it, too, did not seem so frightening.

  She gulped.

  “Do you wish to touch it?” His voice had gone thick again.

  Looking up at him with a worried frown, she asked, “Do you want me to?”

  “With all my heart.”

  Her touch was feather light at first. In theory, she knew what to do. But reality and theory were often polar opposites of one another. She knew they were sensitive; her father had often threatened to kick a blackguard’s nuts in—as he’d called it.

  Mother had referred to that as coarse language unsuitable for a female, but Nimue had understood the gist of it when the man would immediately clamp his hand to his pants, with eyes bulging and pleading for mercy.

  He hissed when she took a firm grip, running her thumb down the slit on the head. She frowned at the sticky liquid that leaked from it.

  “What is this, beluga? Does it hurt?”

  Was his penis crying?

  A deep rumble tore from his chest as he tossed his head back. “It hurts, but only because I’m desperate to be inside you. Nimue,” he grunted, “can I please touch you now?”

  “Sircco, I never told you you couldn’t.”

  With a growl, he sat up, banding his arms about her, and reversed their positions so that he was on top of her, but he was careful to keep most of his weight off her.

  She stared at his lips. “Kiss me.”

  She hadn’t needed to ask twice. Leaning in, he stole her lips, and she drowned in the sensation of the man.

  Their tongues dueled. “Mated” was the only way she could describe it. Thrusting in and out and as they did, she bucked her hips against his, instinctively knowing to spread her legs wide so that his thickness could rub against her slickness.

  Hissing as a sudden flash of stars exploded behind her eyes, she dug her heels into the bed, rubbing frantically as she suddenly figured out a way to help ease the ache inside her in a way her hand had been unable to do.

  “Slow down, my little pirate,” he hissed, pulling back and causing her to whimper because she wanted his penis between her thighs right now.

  “But it feels too good. Why stop?”

  Chuckling, he planted his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. And while she liked the petting, she’d much rather get back to the activity at hand.

  Nimue wrapped her heels around his waist, hooked them together, and yanked him down on top of her. Exhaling on a soft keen, she began to rub.

  But he was stronger, and though she’d surprised him enough to move him and feel his delicious hardness, it’d been just a tease because once again, he’d moved away.

  “Sircco, I swear to Calypso, I will punch you if you do not—”

  Stopping her words by kissing her senseless, he ground his hips against hers, and she wanted to sing, because finally, finally, they were getting down to the good stuff. She rubbed herself upon him like a frisky little kitten.

  Why on Kingdom had she ever waited so long to do this? Had she known the glories a penis could provide, she’d have done this much sooner. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t have felt half as good if the cock hadn’t been his.

  “I want to do this with you, my little pirate,” he ground out, pulling back to the side once again, and she was going to scream.

  If she’d had her dirk handy, she probably would have skewered him by now.

  “But”—he tipped her chin up, and the mix of stormy eyes and his seductive smile did things to h
er insides that made her forget petty things like driving a knife through him—“if you continue to do that, I will release before I am ready.”

  “But I am ready now.” She sounded petulant, and well she should, because she felt petulant.

  Grinning broadly, he snaked a hand between them, and she practically screamed when his hand found her own little hardened nub between her legs.

  “That, I can help you with.”

  “Oh, my Gods,” she groaned, her spine coming half off the bed as she clutched at his back, dragging her nails down both sides as her vision threatened to swirl with darkness. Her hand had never felt this good.

  “Sircco. I love... oh, yes,” she moaned as he began to rub harder. And now it was her turn to think she might die from the pleasure.

  Moans turning long and languid, she writhed, moving and wiggling her hips until with one final flicker, stars exploded.

  She came crashing back down on herself, blinking up at a very sexy, but cocky merman. “My hand never felt that good.”

  Booming with laughter, he chuckled, “I should hope not. But I still ache, my little Nimue.”

  Wrapping her legs around him, completely contented and feeling absolutely boneless, she reached up and kissed him thoroughly, ravishing his lips with a growing hunger that she was sure would never abate.

  And this time, when he resettled himself on top of her, she was able to relax and let him fondle and tease his way down her own body.

  She especially liked when he fluttered wet kisses across her nipples. And while it’d once nearly made her come undone, that was nothing compared to the wonders she’d experienced between her thighs.

  Sircco was masterful, playing her body like a maestro until she sang for him. Whimpering and mewling her pleasure as he nipped at her jaw, then easing the fiery pain with tender kisses.

  And though she was sure she couldn’t possibly orgasm for him again, she found herself panting, heaving, and growing restless once more.

  “Sircco,” she whimpered.

  He palmed her face, his gaze searing yet soft. “I need you ready for me, Nimue. Parting your sheath for the first time will hurt.”

  She should have known he’d not fallen for her little white lie. Her beluga was much too smart for that.

  “Just what type of hurt are we talking about here?” she asked, feeling a slight twinge of uncertainty. The first release had felt wonderful, but now he was wanting to stick all that girth inside of her. She was, she must admit, slightly anxious.

  She tried to pinch her legs together, but he petted her inner thigh gently, relaxing her once more.

  “I would never knowingly hurt you, but there is no way around this. But it is only for the first time, and then you’ll never feel it again.”

  “First time?” She waggled her brows. “Are you implying then that there might be more of these dalliances?”

  He growled, nipping at her throat playfully. “There is no turning back now, hagfish. I know your scent, and I would hunt you to the ends of Kingdom should you try to leave.”

  Her playful mood fading just a bit, she twined her fingers through the thick ends of his hair. “Two months is all I have left. And then I will leave.”

  His kiss was ferocious. Teeth, tongue, and heat, it sparked her blood, inciting her once more into a frenzied passion of need, making her forget all about that little problem.

  Because his penis was probing her center, she was sure that at this moment, should anyone ask her name, she’d not be able to remember it.

  “Children,” she hissed mindlessly, vaguely recalling that children could come from this union.

  “What?” He frowned, even as he continued to nibble on her bottom lip. “You want children?”

  She gasped, giggling. “Gods, no.”

  He leaned back. “Never?”

  “No, not never. Just not now.”

  He shook his head. “You say the oddest things, my little legger. But I adore you. And I’ve taken precautions. Now—”

  “Do you want children? I mean fry?”

  She’d never thought to ask him that. In all their conversations, it’d never occurred to her that he might someday want a family of his own. And when she thought that, then she immediately began to wonder what their children would like, because she refused to ever share him. He was hers, whether he knew it or not.

  “Yes. Someday. And you talk too much.”

  “And you—” She might have smacked him, but he was kissing her again, and the kissing was nice. So, so nice...blissful, beautiful, wonder— Then he sank all that powerful girth inside her, and she shoved at his chest because it was suddenly not so nice.

  “Sircco,” she whimpered, eyes shimmering when she felt something tear.

  “Shh, my beloved. Ssh.” His hands glided along the contours of her face, kissing her brow, the tip of her nose, and her cheek. “It only lasts for a moment. I will not move until your say-so. Breathe, Nimue. Just breathe.”

  She listened to his words and tried not to think about the fact that she felt uncomfortably stretched. Her nostrils flared, and she wanted to ask him to get off now. How could something that’d given her so much pleasure before now hurt so bad?

  Her lip trembled.

  “Nim, it might help if I moved.”

  Desperately wanting him off her, but also wanting to please him as he’d done her, she gave a small, fearful nod. But if it hurt, she’d just have to figure out another way to...

  “Ohh,” she breathed at the first deep, penetrating stroke.

  What’d felt like torture now made her feel as if she were nothing more than an exposed nerve that could see and taste in color.

  A brilliant miasma of colors swirled through her head—blue like deepest water, red like hottest flame, and golden like the radiance of the sun.

  “Again?”

  “Yes!” She eagerly shook her head, and the next stroke had her arching up to meet each thrust.

  Lost in the haze of muscle and limb, she could only gasp and groan as he tugged at her very soul. How had she ever survived this long without experiencing this?

  “Look at me, Nimue,” he grunted.

  And when she did it was to see the same sensation of emotion reflected within his gaze. The seas were stormy, there was lightning and the roll of thunder through clouds, but there was also something softer. Something greater. All encompassing.

  She felt herself falling into him. And felt him slipping into her. Their souls, or maybe even something deeper, something far more ancient and elemental, and for a moment she couldn’t feel her body or his, only the water, but it was connected to the two of them.

  He trembled, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath her touch, letting her know he felt it, too. And then the spiraling in her belly coiled so tightly that she knew she was almost there, ready to crest into the abyss of that little death once again.

  “Sircco, I’m almost there.” She fluttered her lashes, wanting to look away from the intensity of his gaze. He wasn’t merely looking; he was branding her.

  “No.” He clenched his teeth. “Do not look away.” And then he was shuddering, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, and she cried out, lost to the music only they could hear, the singing union of their souls.

  It took her several long moments before she felt she could take a steady breath. She still felt the after ripples of that orgasm, every so often twitching, as another mini spasm would consume her.

  Laughter that seemed to spill up from the very depths of him rolled from his tongue. Dropping heavily to his side, he wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her snug into the curve of his body.

  Planting rows of tiny kisses along his chest, she heaved a contented sigh. “I do not think I could, even should I wish it. You have bewitched me, beluga, and I demand to be used thus each and every night henceforth.”

  She felt his smile as he kissed her sweaty brow. “May I sleep here tonight? For I fear I truly cannot walk with these odious legs.”

  Chuckl
ing, she nodded, contented and deliriously happy. She never wanted to move off him, even though his ribs poked into her sides and he was far from a comfortable pillow. By the way his fingers languidly stroked down her back as his heart beat a steady thump thump in her ear, she knew it would be nothing for her to fall into a deep and powerful sleep.

  “Gods, I hope I don’t drool on you.” She patted his chest. “You have exhausted me.”

  “Your drool would be like the nectar of the Gods.”

  Snorting, she slapped his chest. “That was the most—”

  Wrinkling his nose, his chest rumbled with laughter. “Ridiculous. Aye, I know. But it seemed like the thing to say at the time. Though it sounded much less foolish in my head.”

  Rubbing her nose against his neck, she curled her legs around his; enjoying the scratchy feel of his hair and yet feeling that she’d so much rather feel the slickness of scales instead.

  “Well, I did think of telling you that your throbbing member made me want to weep tears of exultation, but I wisely choose to keep my trap shut on that one.”

  Snickering together, they began to settle down, their breathing growing heavy, drifting slowly off to sleep.

  But just before she did she whispered, “Sircco.”

  “Hm,” he rumbled sleepily.

  “In case you hadn’t already figured it out, you were my first.”

  Smiling lazily, he kissed the crown of her head. “I know, my lovely hagfish. I know.”

  *

  Waves crashed into the shores as the waters of the deep lifted the Jolly Roger high into the air.

  A great cry came up from the assembly. “By the Gods, the Sea King is happy tonight!”

  Men cheered and whistled as the waters below filled with all manner of colorful fish. Their nets would be full tonight.

  Glowering at the lot of them, Hook bellowed, “Get back to work!”

  Trisha came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I would say our daughter must have had a hand in creating this miracle. Be happy, Hook, because she is.”

  Then after kissing the back of his neck, she headed below deck.