Denny had hated the sound of that and had plotted against Piggins from that moment.
“I understand,” Denny had said. What else could he have said? He didn’t speak Spanish and he’d been at the mercy of this Christoph guy who, though not especially attractive, had had a seductive accent, and so far had seemed quite kind.
Christoph had left him alone then, and for hours and hours, Denny had remained that way in his cell. He’d had no idea what was going on but had heard occasional chatter from other prisoners scattered around him. He’d tried to peer out of the bars of his cell, but hadn’t been able to see much. A frantic urge to pee had left him disheartened when he’d noticed the slop bucket in the corner. He’d made use of it, but it had demoralized him.
He’d done nothing wrong, or had he?
Chapter Four
Merritt somehow made it out of the window, but dropped one of the items he’d stuffed down his shirt. Damn. It was the black candle. Gremma could still use it to work magic against the person whose blood had touched it.
“No!” she yelled as he dropped back inside and grabbed it, but Merritt made his way out of the window again and took off running. She followed him, but he lost her. He ran and he ran, hiding far in the forest. Her voice followed him until he climbed higher up into the dense forest and found a small cave. Once he was sure he was alone, he sat just inside the entrance. He took out everything, including the sandwich that might or might not have been poisoned. He was starving now and the sky grew dark. He’d been gone all day. His sister would be frantic, no doubt, but he didn’t care. He examined all the objects he was certain had been stolen from unluckily hexed victims. Psychometry had been his gift until he and Fortunata had had the misfortune of being abducted. Neither of them had been able to harness their power because Merritt had been shackled. Then Denny had come to their rescue.
He wouldn’t think about that now. He had to find out who had owned each object before him and return the items in order to break the spell Fortunata had over them. He moved his hand over everything. He’d start with the sandwich. It was the most recent object that had possibly been hexed.
Merritt’s magic was strong but he’d declined to use it all these months because nothing mattered to him without Denny. He’d allowed Fortunata such power while in his depressed state that he now realized this new-found power had gone to her head. Well, not anymore. He touched the sandwich, closed his eyes and willed his head to empty itself of all thoughts. Nothing came at first then he saw the faint light in the corner of his mind. No matter how hard he tried, the image remained blurry.
Concentrate.
His head pounded and he opened his eyes, looking down at his fingertips. They were black. He’d absorbed magic from somewhere. Was it the sandwich? He looked beside it. The candle. Whose blood was it? He knew he needed to release the negative energy in his hands before he could work on the candle. The only thing that could release such dark magic was love. True love. Merritt closed his eyes again, and Denny’s face was right there. Merritt’s heart almost broke remembering how they had come to know each other. The stolen kisses, the furtive touching and hand-holding. He’d loved taming the fierce pirate of the high seas just by loving him.
Merritt smiled, remembering how he was the one who’d planned Denny’s seduction in a rented room in Tarragona, a busy sea port in Spain. Denny had some weird history with the place, that Merritt still didn’t understand but suspected it had something to do with a man. He’d sent a message to Denny, who’d come to meet him. Freshly shaved and washed, he’d smelled divine. They’d shared frantic kisses, Merritt touching Denny’s crotch. He had delighted at the thick, hard cock eager for his touch. Merritt knew that Denny’s tastes were a bit kinky. Not by anything Denny had said, but by the occasional snatches of memory Merritt had gleaned from him.
Just as he was getting to the good part of his reverie where he sucked Denny’s cock, another image shifted into his mind. Fortunata shimmered into view, then Gremma. Then he saw the horse. Poor, dear Cillian. Merritt gasped. He glimpsed Elvin in the palace kitchens assembling the package of food he’d given Merritt earlier that day. One of the kitchen maids was in there scrubbing vegetables and she chided him for ransacking the food stocks.
“It’s for the prince,” he said, his voice sounding loud in Merritt’s mind.
“Ah, well, if it’s for him, then that’s okay. Give him an apple. He loves those. Especially the green ones.”
Elvin smiled and plucked one from the bowl. He wrapped the package and went to Merritt’s bedroom. The image shifted just as Elvin opened the door.
The food wasn’t poisoned. I don’t think it was the apple.
Merritt’s eyes flew open as a flash of pain hit him right in the side. It was as though somebody had stuck him with a knife.
He fell over on the cave floor, panting, sweat beading on his head.
In his agony, he reached for the black candle. Instantly, the image of Fortunata cutting Cillian’s shoulder with a small, pointed blade flew into his mind. She laughed as Cillian whinnied and reared. The horse took off and she ran back to Gremma’s house, smearing the candle with the horse’s blood.
“What are you doing?” Gremma asked. “Who have you cursed now?” She paused then waved her hand over the altar. “Isn’t this enough? Haven’t you done enough now?” Gremma looked horrified. “You hate your brother that much?”
“No. I love his power that much. His pirate lover will soon be here, and I’ll get rid of him, too.” She threw back her head and unleashed a wild cackle that left Merritt shaking in the dark cave.
* * * *
Denny dreamed of Tarragona and his life in the cell there. He felt as though he had gone back in time and relived the moment he fell asleep sitting against the wall there. Somehow, he’d gotten through a rough night filled with strange noises, weird smells and severe hunger pangs.
* * * *
Tarragona
A few years earlier…
The morning after his captain had left them, a jailer brought him a cup of coffee and a hunk of warm bread. That was when his love affair with coffee began.
Christoph came and talked to him, his heavily accented English quite charming to Denny, who was beside himself with happiness when a second cup of coffee and another hunk of bread came his way in the afternoon. Late in the evening, a jailer came to collect him.
Denny had lost all sense of time but knew it was night because lit candles highlighted a narrow, pebbled corridor that led away from the cells. A hand snatched at him from between two bars. Rigby. The man that Denny would later make his second mate.
“We knew he liked you best. Let him have his way with you. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“I—”
“No talking!” Christoph boomed from somewhere ahead of Denny and the jailer.
Rigby shrank away from the bars.
The jailer led Denny to a small office that was a far cry from Denny’s horrible conditions. A soft sofa where Christoph now sat, eased Denny’s cold, aching bones.
“Come. Sit by me.” Christoph patted the tan-colored sofa cushion. The jailer gave Denny a lingering, pitying look then left him alone with Christoph.
There was no chit-chat. No warning. “Have you ever experienced another man’s touch?” Christoph leaned close to Denny. He’d clearly washed and shaved for the occasion.
Denny blinked, realizing that the head jailer meant to have his way with him. Denny noticed the faint scars crisscrossing the man’s face and wondered how he’d gotten them. The predatory gleam in Christoph’s gaze scared him.
Will I get out alive?
“Follemos,” Christoph whispered. His huge dark eyes held a predatory gleam that seemed to translate the single Spanish word he’d uttered.
Denny didn’t understand Spanish but felt certain follemos did not mean tennis. Or cards. He had a pretty good idea that Christoph was hungry for sex the way he was rubbing at Denny’s trousers, moving his hand upward from knee to groin. His growi
ng frenzy frightened Denny, who held his breath in total terror as Christoph leaned into him, inhaling Denny’s sea scent. Denny couldn’t remember the last time he’d bathed and was embarrassed by his own smell. Not that Christoph minded. He kept rubbing, moving his probing fingers along the length of Denny’s hardening cock.
Denny suddenly didn’t mind the way Christoph worked the buttons on Denny’s thick wool trousers.
“Me encanta.” Christoph moaned as he withdrew Denny’s cock from his pants. What did me encanta mean?
As though reading his mind, Christoph tore his gaze from Denny’s huge cock and said in his thick English, “I love it.” Christoph dropped his gaze again, his mouth open in wonderment.
His hot breath sent tantalizing messages to Denny’s shaft, which only hardened and lengthened under Christoph’s scrutiny. Denny knew he had a big cock. The way Christoph was nattering on about it in his guttural Spanish, Denny suspected Christoph was delirious about Denny’s enormous manhood.
Denny was still sitting on the sofa beside Christoph, except he kept arching his body upward, the tip of his erection just an inch from Christoph’s mouth. Nobody had ever examined his cock so closely. Christoph seemed mesmerized, no, fixated with Denny’s engorged cock. No man had looked that way at him before and it did some strange things to his whole body. A tingling sensation began in his groin. Sweat beaded on his lip. His scalp itched. The back of his head and the nape of his neck dampened. He thought he might be experiencing a flash fever, but then Christoph touched him and Denny’s body twitched and bucked in response. He longed to shout, ‘Touch me, lick it!’ but dared not. This was his captor, but Christoph seemed unaware of this fact as he reached out tentatively and touched Denny’s pride.
“Oh!” Denny bit off the words he was desperate to say as Christoph stroked Denny’s most private parts. Christoph held Denny’s gaze for a moment then grew bolder, clasping the base of Denny’s cock in his fist. Christoph glanced up at Denny as his head dipped down, his lips moist.
“Quérico,” he whispered. “I like this. So much.” Christoph kept studying Denny’s uncut cock then licked his lips.
He gave Denny a seductive grin that made Denny grow even harder. Oh, no. His cock was leaking but Christoph looked thrilled. He kissed the head, sending waves of happiness through Denny’s body. Christoph stroked Denny harder, faster, exalting in the way Denny’s cock arced toward him.
“I need you now,” Christoph moaned, plunging Denny’s length into his salivating mouth.
Denny fell from the sofa and sank to his knees, Christoph tumbling beside him, keeping his mouth glued to Denny’s slick shaft.
Somebody was coming. Footsteps echoed. Oh no. Not now. Please don’t stop. Denny longed for the carousel in his head to keep spinning. The faint unpleasantness of his unaccustomed, mounting arousal turned out to be a sexual tension Denny had never before experienced. His balls grew tighter, bigger, his cock seeming to bring Christoph’s searing lips as much pleasure as Christoph gave to Denny. Then he stopped. His eyes were languid as he released Denny, who almost howled in frustration. Christoph must have sensed it because he gave Denny a wicked, lopsided grin as he dipped his head again and used his tongue and two fingers to peel back Denny’s foreskin, revealing the shimmering head.
Christoph claimed Denny’s cock once more, sucking him into his mouth then releasing his strong pull, letting Denny slip out of his lips, only to grab him back in again. This constant motion produced an exhilarating sensation from deep within Denny, who began to help, pushing and pulling his shaft in and out of Christoph’s mouth. With a sharp cry that Christoph muffled with his free hand, Denny came in Christoph’s mouth. He was both in that warm office, feeling Christoph’s wayward tongue swirling over his eruption, but also high in the sky.
“Beautiful.” Christoph released him. “You liked it?”
“Oh, yes.” Denny was desperate to return the favor. “Please let me pleasure you, Christoph.”
“Not now. I will send for you again tomorrow and we can enjoy our new friendship then, but for now, you must return to your cell.”
Outside the door, the footsteps Denny had heard earlier returned and he was surprised when, for the first time, Christoph kissed Denny on the lips. He tasted his own semen on Christoph’s tongue.
“My juices are sweet,” he said, surprised at the realization.
“That’s because we are not feeding you meat,” Christoph said. “Meat makes men’s seed so bitter.” Denny returned to his cell, alone with his thoughts, his racing pulse and a heightened awareness that he had forever changed.
He lay on his bunk, his stomach rumbling. He’d missed dinner, but had received so much more. The start of his sexual education. He didn’t think he could sleep but the carnal release he’d experienced sent him into deep slumber.
The next morning, the jailer brought him two cups of coffee and two hunks of warm bread. It satisfied him for a while but it really hadn’t been enough. Later that day, after his lunch, the jailer came for him, a look of dismay on his face.
“Are you okay?” the jailer asked in hushed tones. “Are you bleeding? Did he hurt you?”
“No. He was very kind.”
The jailer looked startled but said nothing. When Denny arrived at the office a few minutes later, he had to cover his raging erection with his hands. The sight of his arousal sent Christoph into mad laughter the moment they were alone.
“I think you missed me.” Christoph pushed Denny over his desk, whipped down his trousers and sucked his ass.
Nobody had ever touched Denny there, let alone put their mouth, oh Lord, right there. He’d never heard of such a thing, but when Christoph buried his face in Denny’s ass and licked, Denny came so fast his juices shot all over the desk, before he could stop himself.
Christoph chuckled and cleaned up the mess with one of Denny’s grimy socks. He turned Denny around, almost bringing him to another feverish orgasm, but this time, Christoph played with himself and when Denny could take it no longer, Christoph threw everything off the desk and pulled Denny up and over the desk until Denny lay on his back. Christoph climbed over him as his work materials clattered to the floor. Christoph pointed his rigid cock over Denny’s mouth. His shaft was surprisingly meaty. Thick and huge. Denny had feared the man might have a puny appendage. He’d glimpsed a few of his shipmates’ dicks and had been horrified. What a joy to be here in this office with a man who had such a mighty penis for Denny’s gratification.
Christoph showed Denny how to bring a man to ultimate bliss too. He taught him how to suck a cock without teeth grazing the fragile skin. All the while, as Denny brought new delights to the man who was keeping him imprisoned, he daydreamed he was with another, nameless, faceless man, who sought only an uninterrupted pleasure cruise with Denny.
All the next day, Christoph sent for Denny numerous times. He was an impatient lover, eager to come then send Denny back to his cell.
“Why does your stomach rumble?” he complained late in the afternoon.
“Because you don’t feed me enough. You don’t feed any of us what we need to eat to survive.”
Christoph looked so surprised that Denny wanted to punch the man in the face.
“I will see to it that you have plenty of food tonight,” Christoph assured him, sending Denny away with a wave of his hand.
He was as good as his word. That night, the scent of lemon and garlic wafted down the dark corridor of the jail house. Denny and the others clung to the bars of their cells, anxious for whatever it was that was making such delicious smells. Denny was salivating by the time he received his plate of fish, yellow rice and black beans. He sat against the cold wall of his cell, holding the warm plate in his hands, unable to believe the feast before him. The guard even brought him a glass of red wine.
That night, when Christoph sent for him, his shipmates murmured, “Thank you, Denny,” as he moved past them.
“Thank you for your sacrifice,” the last man said.
&nbs
p; Denny and the guard exchanged looks. Denny felt no shame that he was actually enjoying his little trysts with Christoph. It was nobody’s business but his.
In Christoph’s office, Denny waited for his instructions but Christoph pointed to a side table where a steaming bowl of water and a large cake of soap awaited him.
“You smell terrible,” Christoph complained. “You must bathe. I have also provided you with clean socks.”
Denny removed his clothing and washed quickly, enjoying the hot suds against his cold body. Christoph gave him another glass of wine, and Denny grew bolder once he realized Christoph was desperate for their sexual contact.
“If we are to do this, then you must feed me and the others properly tomorrow.”
Christoph stared at him. “Were you not fed well tonight?”
“Yes, but tomorrow is another day.” He gave Christoph what he hoped was a confident smile. “And the others must be allowed to bathe too.”
Christoph frowned. “You think your mouth is so talented, boy?”
It must be, otherwise you wouldn’t stare at it so hard. “If it doesn’t please you, I can always return to my cell.”
“Oh! So dramatic.” Christoph frowned. “Get on your knees. Now.”
When Denny didn’t budge, Christoph said, “All right. Food and bathing.” He waved his hand. “For all.”
Denny gave Christoph a cock-sucking he suspected his captor would never forget, sliding his fingers into Christoph’s tight asshole. Christoph bucked and jerked against Denny’s intrusions, chanting, “Si, si,” over and over again.
Once again, there were no shared moments of tenderness beyond Christoph’s carnal release. Denny loved the taste of semen and looked forward to repeating his performance the following day, but wondered why Christoph had stopped touching him.
“Don’t play with yourself,” Christoph admonished. “I will know if you do. I have something special planned for tomorrow night.”
The Pirate Fairy Page 5
