He turned to look at the door to his cabin and felt a surge of protectiveness that was as unwelcome as it was powerful.
Dante stopped beside him. “They were after Cedric?” Dante asked, urgently. Gabriel stood and nodded, showing Dante the pendant from the dead man.
“Members of the cult.”
“Fuck,” Dante murmured under his breath. “We have to protect him.”
Gabriel pretended he hadn’t heard, and squashed down the large part of him that agreed.
“Oversee the cleanup will you? I’m going to talk to the man himself.”
Chapter 14
In which Gabriel claims what he wants
The noises had been properly terrifying. There I was chained to the bed and awaiting possible death, with no way to defend myself or hide if some enemy made his way into the room. I could possibly slip under the bed but the chain would still be there, leading anyone who came in to me.
And besides, I didn’t much fancy hiding under the bed as if I was afraid.
I was afraid, of course, but chained up like that there was nothing I could do about it. The ship rocked with the sounds of cannon fire, and then again much worse.
I could hear lots of shouts and thumps, the sound of bodies falling to the deck. We’d been boarded.
I wondered who by? If it was the British Navy I’d be rescued, and I wasn’t at all sure I wanted that. Not when I had learned so little about the cursed mark on my back.
The small leadlight windows were tinted with yellow and orange and I couldn’t make out which dark shape was a pirate that I knew and which was an enemy.
I heard Gabriel shouting orders, the cries of men in horrible pain and the thumps of bodies hitting the deck.
Something stirred, under my rib cage. A tugging sensation of fear different to my dread of being rescued by boring Naval officers, or the horror that my kidnappers were about to be slain and I was stuck inside.
That was worse somehow. I stuck the fingernails of my free hand in my mouth and chewed on them just for something to do.
I don’t want Gabriel to be hurt. Or Dante, come to that. I want them to protect me from whatever’s out there. And then fuck me. I want that very much.
The battle actually didn’t go as long as I’d thought it might. I heard Gabriel roaring ‘Kill them all!’ which was properly rousing and I shifted on the bed, wondering if it was deeply wrong that hearing him shout that phrase was somehow attractive. Probably.
Finally, the noises died off and it was just people speaking. Not loud enough for me to hear the details or what the outcome was, except that I was relatively sure I was hearing Gabriel and Dante. Uselessly, I tugged on the shackle, wishing I could press my ear to the door and hear the substance of their conversation but there was no give in it.
It’d be exciting if I wasn’t so damned nervous.
Finally there were footsteps and the sound of the key in the door. My heart soared, hopeful. Gabriel stalked in, his expression stony, eyebrows drawn done and mouth set in a tense frown.
His shirt was torn, slashed rather, and there was blood visible on his chest.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
He glanced down at himself and shook his head. “That’s not important.” He strode to the bed and stopped next to me, towering over me. I felt my heart speed up and my lips part.
“They were after you,” he said.
I shook my head slightly. “I don’t understand.”
“The cult, that ship, they’d been trying to find you, they tried to get in here to you. They barely fought, they just wanted… wanted to get to you.” His tone was inscrutable.
I swallowed, mind racing. He had defended me, kept them from me, killed them all, I had to assume. I had to know why he’d done it. “Perhaps you should have let them take me, then I’d have been out of your hair,” I said, slowly.
“Don’t be an arse,” he said. Then he was on me, his mouth crashing against mine. I surged up to meet him, my free hand gripping the fabric of his shirt sleeves and pulling him down over me, so I could touch him with my other hand, laying back on the bed and moaning with need.
He kissed me until I was breathless and my mind was empty of anything but him. I wanted more, I wanted him touching me all over, I wanted him inside me.
His mouth moved to my jaw and his teeth scraped my skin, his hands were on my trousers, pulling them open and down.
“Do you want this?” He growled from somewhere under my chin.
“Fuck yes,” I said, trying to pull him closer to me somehow although his chest was already tight against mine.
“Good,” he grunted, and his hand closed around my cock.
“You want me?” I managed to ask, although his hands and mouth were already answering that question. I’m vain and self-absorbed enough that I wanted to hear him say it.
‘Yes, now shut up,” he replied. That seemed fair enough, especially since he’d started to stroke my cock and it felt so good I just wanted to stop doing anything but feeling it. I decided not to argue, and just thought about how much I enjoyed his body on mine.
He ceased the mouthing over my jaw and sat up, pulling my trousers off and tossing them aside before stripping off his own shirt. He was sweaty, filthy from the cannon smoke and smeared with blood. The cut on his chest probably needed attention…
He shucked his trousers off and I sighed gratefully at the sight of his heavy cock and balls. He wasted no time in slicking his fingers with oil and stretching me open. I swore, tugging against the shackle and reaching for his chest - feeling cool where his body had recently been covering mine, my cock aching for more friction but his hands were busy now. One of them pressing my hips down to keep me still and the other pressing into me, fucking roughly in and out to get me open for him as quickly as possible. I whined, scratching at the muscles of his stomach.
“Patience,” he said, his voice low and commanding.
“Not something I’m good at,” I said, smiling as my fingers found his nipple and tugged on it.
He let go of my hip long enough to bat my hand away, so I closed it over my own cock instead, knowing that he’d punish me somehow, and my eager soul wanting that like an ache.
“No,” he gripped my wrist and pulled my hand away. “Do I need to shackle both of your hands, boy?”
I groaned, needy and wanting. “Fuck yes.”
He shoved his finger deep into me, up to the last knuckle and I whined again, squirming on him like a fish on a hook.
“No time,” he said, dismissively. He kept his hand on my wrist, pressing it to the bed beside my shoulder as he added another finger, wasting no time in scissoring them, forcing me open with the slippery insistence of his fingers. My balls tightened with the pain and the sweet sting of it. “Ready?”
Barely, I thought, and then. This is going to hurt in the best way.
“Yes,” I said. “Stop stalling.”
He grunted out a laugh and withdrew his fingers and pressed his cock into me instead. That gorgeous velvety head filling me and forcing me to give him access where I wasn’t properly prepared.
I’d had sex this way before, and although I knew I would feel the sting of it for at least the next day or so, I absolutely coveted it.
He grunted, obviously feeling the tightness as well, and moved his hips infinitesimally slowly, gaining access as I moaned and whined.
“More, yes, please Captain, more,” I gasped.
“Captain,” he repeated, through his heavy breaths. “Yes, I like that, call me Captain.” He pushed in slightly quicker and I felt my body accommodate him, filled utterly with his length. I groaned.
“Captain, fuck, that feels so good.”
He smirked, his eyes half closing, leaned in and bit my lower lip, fingers squeezing my wrist in a multi-pronged attack on my senses. I moaned louder, whining with my desire for more of him.
Without warning, he started to move his hips fast, drawing out of me to the head of his cock and then slamming back in.
The glorious slide and pull of the withdrawal, the sudden shove back inside, it all had me gasping and quickly on the edge of orgasming.
“Please… Captain… I’m going to…” I gasped.
He let go of my wrist to wrap his hand around my cock, pumping it in the same rhythm he was fucking me. My body had become an instrument he was playing, and it felt incredible.
I wasn’t going to last, and he seemed to be encouraging it, so I gave in to the sensations, arched my back on the bed and came with a loud howl of joy. He shoved deep inside as I did, no doubt enjoying the way I was squeezing him. He grunted and I felt him fill me with his hot wet ejaculate.
I fell back onto the bed, panting and stupidly happy with the experience. He thrust a few more times and then pulled out of me, making me whine as he pulled properly free of me. I missed it instantly, although the dripping sensation was sort of enjoyable as well.
Because I’m very easily pleased, I suppose.
The captain leaned over me, plucked the key from around his neck and used it to undo the shackle from my wrist. Then he let the key drop back to his chest and collapsed beside me, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.
“Feel free to do that absolutely any time you like,” I said.
Gabriel cut his eyes to me, huffed out his breath and covered his eyes with one hand. “Fuck.”
Chapter 15
In which an accord is made
“Cedric, you absolute nightmare, no,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
I rolled onto my side, propped my head up on one hand and used the other to trace the shapes of the muscles on his chest.
Pectoral, deltoid, up to the scalene on the shoulder.
“I’d really like to paint you,” I said, surprising the both of us. I’d meant to tell him he was being ridiculous and that of course he should have. But I supposed I’d got caught up thinking of anatomy class, and how the planes of light played so nicely over his body. How I could render him as a hero, standing on the foredeck of the ship, the wind in his hair.
“Paint me?” He sounded amused. I looked up into his eyes and saw laughter, so I bit down the reply about the peach in his skin contrasting with the white gold of his hair.
“Fuck me,” I said instead. He practically rolled his eyes, so I continued in this vein. “I like being fucked, you like fucking me, it’s the perfect arrangement.”
I slowly circled his nipple with my forefinger, smiling as it hardened, betraying his arousal.
“You’re my hostage, and I’m going to be paid for you, and Poseidon willing I’ll never see you again.”
“Tease.” I leaned in and licked his nipple, just once, and grinned, seeing his chest stutter when his breath caught. “But if you don’t want to, then perhaps I’ll see about Dante?” I suggested, keeping my tone light. “He is lovely. Have you ever…?”
“With Dante?” Gabriel’s hand found its way onto my back and stroked slowly up and down, petting me like a dog in a way that felt utterly divine. “No.”
“Why ever not?” I leaned down and licked his other nipple, then blew on it, so the damp would make the air colder. Gabriel’s hand moved to the back of my neck and gently but firmly pulled me back.
“Because it would get in the way of our business partnership,” he said. “Nosy little pup. I cannot fuck my quartermaster any more than I can have my way with my prisoners.”
“Ah, but you have your way with me,” I said. I felt like I’d got him there, and I looked up to see his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“It feels a lot more like you had your way with me,” he said. “But fine, yes, I broke that rule with you. That’s one of the reasons I need to get you off this ship, which means finding someone to pay your ransom at our next port.”
I pulled a face. “Your pillow talk is distinctly lacking in charm, you know.”
“It’s not supposed to be charming,” Gabriel said. He let his hand drop from me and sat up, creating space between us, which was utterly unfair and not at all what I wanted. “It’s just the truth. You’re a liability, now more than ever. All those men wanted was you, they didn’t care about their lives or limbs, they were…” he trailed off, his eyes looking off into the distance and his face contorting into a grimace. “Relentless. For all we know there’s more ships out there, more cultists just trying to find you. That makes me and my crew targets, and I can’t have that.”
I rolled over, facing away from him, wrapping my arms around myself and feeling cold and empty. “Fine.”
Gabriel moved on the bed, and for a moment I imagined he was going to wrap his arms around me and tell me it’d be all right. And for a moment I wanted that. I wanted the reassurance and the warmth of him. I wanted his big strong arms around me, keeping me safe.
But after a pause, he got off the bed and I heard him moving about, getting dressed again.
I closed my eyes and told myself I didn’t want or need anyone to tell me things would be fine. I could handle whatever was coming, and I certainly wasn’t getting attached to a pirate captain who wanted nothing to do with me.
Obviously I didn’t need anyone at all.
Except perhaps Oliver. Sweet, innocent Oliver.
Gabriel stopped beside the bed, on my side. I opened one eye and he was fully dressed, back in his black shirt and black trousers. He drew the blanket over me, his eyes crinkled, his mouth softer somehow. He inhaled, as if about to speak and then seemed to think better of it.
I pulled the blanket closer, closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep.
After a few seconds, I heard his footsteps retreat.
Chapter 16
In which Dante and Cedric converse
I was out on the deck of the ship, in the cool night air.
The stars above seemed to twinkle brighter than usual. I had spent a fair amount of time studying the stars a few years back, when I’d taken it into my head to try and paint the night sky as accurately as I could.
I could hear the waves of the ocean lapping at the sides of the ship. The noise of the blood red sails snapping and fluttering in the wind as the ship sped over the waves.
The smell of the salt spray filled my nose and I breathed out joyfully, feeling at ease with the world and the universe. It was warm and I wore only my underthings, my trousers and shirt probably still on the floor in the Captain’s Cabin. It didn’t matter, I didn’t need those things now.
I looked around for the moon but couldn’t see it - perhaps it had already set or perhaps it was a new moon… but as I looked up at the stars, I started to feel … not afraid exactly but unsettled.
The stars seemed closer than before, closer than I’d ever seen them. My stomach knotted uncomfortably.
That wasn’t right.
As I watched the stars, which seemed only a stone’s throw away rather than the millions of light years, or whatever it was that they were, as I watched they seemed to move. The twinkling grew brighter and they seemed to dance from left to right.
Were they moving closer still as they danced?
I took a step back and felt the deck beneath my feet give way, the solid, dependable wooden deck apparently malleable and unforgiving.
I fell onto my back and was trapped, gazing up at a sky that arced impossibly large overhead. The ship around me seemed like nothing, a tiny raft barely big enough to support me. The horizon was close, and the sky was consuming everything, all the space that usually existed, all the air I could usually breathe seemed restricted.
My heart pounded in my ears - it was the only thing I could hear now, and I felt my throat constricting. My skin was cold now, chilled with the oncoming coolness of the stars. The large, tripping stars. I couldn’t look away from them, although the light wasn’t gentle now, it was piercing, dazzling me.
Filled with dread that became almost overwhelming, I opened my mouth and screamed.
I woke up tangled in the bedsheets, facing the ceiling of Gabriel’s cabin, sweat soaking me and the
sheets. I thrashed about, panicked, struggling to breathe until I was free of the cursed sheet. I threw it to the ground and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to remember that I was in the real world now and not some horrifying place where the stars were coming for me.
The door slammed open and Dante ran in, his eyes wide and concerned.
“Cedric? What happened?” He raced to the bed and sat down beside me, looking me over.
“I… nothing,” I said, a little uncertain as to why he was here, and looking so afraid. “I had a bad dream?”
Dante placed his hand gently on my shoulder and I was struck by how cool the skin of his hand was. It was a welcome sensation, I still felt hot, almost feverish.
“A nightmare? What happened in it?”
I tried to explain it as best I could, but in the light of day the idea of the stars moving towards me didn’t seem as threatening as it had felt in the dream. It sounded almost silly. Dante didn’t laugh though.
“Was that…” he paused, his eyebrows drawing together. He swallowed, his eyes had dropped to my neck and the bare shoulder he was touching. He lifted his eyes to mine again. “Is that a dream you’ve had before?”
“No,” I said. “No, I’ve never… my nightmares are usually, I don’t know, being married to some dull girl, or Father telling me he’s disappointed in me, the usual. Nothing like this at all.”
“Hmm.” Dante’s thumb rubbed little circles into my skin, soothing me. “Perhaps it’s linked to your tattoo.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
Perhaps it was the residual fear of the dream, or perhaps it was the enormity of what he was suggesting - the cult trying to get at me, even while I was on a pirate ship. The tattoo and the permanence of the thing - how could one get rid of something etched into one’s back?
Kidnapped by the Gentleman Page 7
