It felt good to play again, and even though the pianoforte was horribly out of tune, the crew didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and it was something he and Lydia—Mrs. Dunn, he reminded himself—could fix with a few tools purchased in any large town.
It was still strange thinking of Lydia as married, but she seemed content with Dunn, and acting as purser gave her a sense of accomplishment. Her cheeks stayed pink, and she laughed often. He could not be happier for her, and he’d made amends with Dunn, mostly. He still couldn’t move past the notion that the man screwed his little sister. That, he was sure, would bother him until they were both wrinkled and gray. For the first time in years, he actually anticipated Lydia living to see old age. Her strength and health had returned with nary a cough or fever.
The galley was now empty save for him. He polished the pianoforte and enjoyed a few rare moments of solitude.
“The crew inform me that you are a terrible yardman, and they suggest you should be the entertainment officer.” Alastair lounged against the door frame, looking so much like the first day Rhain met him. Tall, bold, and beautiful. White shirt billowy and laces loose around his neck. That vibrant leather belt just begging to be removed.
He laughed. “That sounds like a pastime, not a career. I’ve continued studying navigation.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, actually. I devoured your book while still on ship and purchased a few that second day in that godforsaken port town.”
“That is splendid, as it is my least favorite part of sailing.”
They smiled at each other then. Certainly they would look stupid to any observer, but he couldn’t bring himself to care—he was content for the first time in his adult life.
“With everything that has gone on, I forgot to ask what you ever did with Balls.”
Alastair looked down at his boots. When he did finally speak, his voice was quiet, without inflection, as if this were a chore he dreaded but knew was coming. “That overly large waste of skin finally admitted he planned to take over the ship. He said as bold as you please that if he had killed you, Dunn, and me, he could have convinced the crew to go along with him as captain.” He snorted. “Ludicrous. That man didn’t have the brains to guide a skiff, much less a ship. After that we could not shut the man up. He was a terror, trying to instigate a mutiny by talking to anyone who would happen by. Even got a few of the new hands to halfheartedly agree to help him. I tossed him and his accomplice off the ship when we left Tortola.”
“You what?”
“Now don’t fret about Balls. We were close to shore, and he was—is—an excellent swimmer. I am certain the other lad probably was also. By now Balls has probably swived his way through at least half the population of sodomites on that damn island and is figuring out if he has the stamina to swive the rest of the men by week’s end. Don’t feel sorry for him. He made his fate and has most likely joined the Brethren of the Coast already.”
He didn’t feel sorry for the man who had threatened Lydia and Alastair; instead, he was relieved the man no longer lived on ship.
“If you’re done playing with your musical toy”—Alastair waved at the pianoforte—“which you play spectacularly well, by the way, then come to bed.”
The words, spoken in a bored aristocratic drawl, had his wood up and ready in seconds. Damn, how this man affected him. He was across the galley and in Alastair’s arms in two strides. Their lips crashed together hard, until they pulled back and gentled the kiss. Rhain delved in with his tongue and no finesse.
He wanted this man and wanted him now. The urgency was surprising, since they’d made slow, thorough love that morning, but his desire was undeniable in its potency.
“I want you. Here. Now.”
Alastair pulled back, eyes wide. “Here?”
Rhain nodded and tried to pull the whipcord, tough man back into his arms, but Alastair backed out of the galley, shaking his head. “No, Rhain. The place smells like hundreds of unwashed seamen; come to our cabin.”
Their cabin, the captain’s cabin, was now the captain’s and Rhain’s cabin. His few daily required items fit in with plenty of space to spare, and they’d rubbed along quite well for the past week. He had hopes of their liaison continuing in that fashion for a long time to come.
“I want you in a sweet-smelling place, with soft sheets, fresh air from large open windows, and at least three lanterns illuminating that perfect body of yours.”
Through the entirety of that last sentence, Alastair slowly backed down the hall toward the stairs to the main deck, and Rhain slowly followed him, liking the idea of making love in their cabin. Although he would not give up on his new fantasy of fucking in the galley, he would save that for another day.
They barely made it to the cabin and got the door locked before he pounced on his pirate. He dipped down and lifted Alastair over his shoulder, then launched them both at the bed.
Alastair wheezed. “No need to go all Viking on me. I fully intend to offer up my arse for you.” He landed on the bed. “Oouff!”
Rhain took off his own clothes with more speed than finesse and heard a button ping somewhere on the floor. His breeches refused to cooperate with his passion-clumsy fingers. “Damnation.”
Alastair scooted to the head of the bed and sat there, fully clothed, watching the show. “Well, if I’d known playing a few ditties on the pianoforte would work you up thusly, I would have unpacked the thing myself before we ever left London.”
Laughing, he gave up on the last button and just pulled his breeches down, which required a bit of wiggling.
His lover watched the entire show.
When completely nude, he climbed onto the bed and started work on Alastair’s clothing. “You know, this would go much faster if you helped.”
“But it feels so much better when you slip my clothes off.”
He had to admit it was delightful to reveal skin inch by inch as he uncovered his pirate, licking here and there, eliciting tantalizing moans as he went.
Soon they were lying side by side, caressing and stroking. Alastair leaned in for a slow kiss, their lips barely brushing. Hard to imagine such a gentle gesture could have Rhain so close to coming. He moved away and took a few deep breaths to control his lust. “Good God, what you do to me.”
“There is much more I want to do to you. Are you up for it, my love?”
At that, he turned and looked at Alastair. “Do you want to fuck me? I’ve been meaning to ask, but we… I always am so, well, mindless that I forget. I’ll admit it is not my favorite thing, but I’d be happy to…with you.”
Alastair leaned over him and kissed him again. “Although the thought has lots of potential that we can explore at a later date, right now I want you to fuck me. Are you amenable to that?”
Reaching up and flipping them both over so that Alastair lay under him, he said, “Bloody hell, yes! I’m amenable to fucking your sweet arse.”
ALASTAIR CLENCHED AND then relaxed the muscles in his arse as Rhain slid one oil-slicked finger into him. The look on his lover’s face was so serious at this moment, he worried he wasn’t enjoying himself. “Hurry up the preparation, will you. I want you to fuck me. Now. Hard. Until I can feel you every time I sit down tomorrow.”
Rhain groaned and slid in another, and shortly after, a third finger. God, the stretch felt so wonderful, and now Rhain’s expression was one of lust, not worry.
The man had been too contrite since returning to the ship where he belonged. Alastair had done all he could to convince him no one maintained any sour feelings for what transpired. Of course it made sense to try and make a plot of land turn a profit. It was admirable he tried so hard, against so many odds. But the boy was bullheaded for sure, and it would take time for him to forgive himself.
“I’m more than ready, love. Fuck me, now. I need to feel you moving that big lovely cock inside me until I wake every last man and woman on this ship with my cries.”
“Well, you are rather voluble t
onight.” Smiling, he removed his fingers.
The abrupt loss stung, but then there was something filling his empty hole that made up for no fingers.
“Oh, yes. Yes!”
“Alastair, you are so goddamn hot. So tight.” The words were squeezed off, and Rhain stopped moving, head tipped back, weight held up by two muscular arms. “God, you feel so good.”
Once seated deep, the infuriating man did not move. He opened his eyes and looked at Alastair, the whiskey depths showing more emotion than he had seen there before. What was with his lover tonight? Was the damn pianoforte that important to him?
He bucked that desirable, large body, trying to motivate his lover into action. When that didn’t inspire the wanted response, he said, “Move, damn you.”
Rhain smiled again and then started a slow rhythm that was near enchanting. In, out, in, out. Their gazes locked on each other. Rhain reached down and kissed him, gently, oh-so-sweetly.
The intensity was almost too much. He wanted to look away but couldn’t. After only a few moments, he was ready to spend. Clenching teeth to hold back the climax, he lost the battle at Rhain’s words whispered in that beloved, rough baritone.
“I love you, my dear pirate. I will love you until the day I breathe my last breath. I will then love you forever after that. You are my soul, my life, my world. Say you will stay with me to the end of our days.”
Alastair, beyond words, cried out loud enough to wake creatures at the depths of the ocean. His climax ripped sensation from every part of his body and focused it on a euphoric wave that swept him into oblivion for what felt like hours but most surely was mere seconds.
When he landed back in this world, Rhain had finished his own climax and was in the process of collapsing over him, his sweaty body pressing Alastair into the bedding.
They lay there for a long while, Alastair running his fingers through Rhain’s hair. He liked the wavy locks in this longer style. It made him seem somewhat disreputable.
“Say it again.”
“Hmmm?”
“You heard me. Say it.”
“What, that I love you?” he lifted his head and gently kissed Alastair’s lips. “With all my being.”
Alastair smiled. “I think I want you to say that every day. At least three times a day.”
“With pleasure, my love.”
There should be a way to capture and sell the way he felt right then. If there were, he would be a wealthy man five times over. “My answer is yes, by the way.”
“Truly?”
He nodded.
Rhain placed their foreheads together and sighed. “Good. Because I think I would expire on the spot if you said no.”
“Such a dramatic reaction. Surely you are made of sturdier stuff than that.”
“I’m not at all certain any longer. Wait here. I have something for you.” Rhain disentangled them, leaving an ache in his body that was more from regret at no longer being joined than from any real discomfort. He watched the strong nude man hunting for something in a drawer.
“I found this in one of the crates when on the island. I’d almost forgotten about it. But when I found it, I knew that if I ever saw you again, I would ask you to take me back, and I would give you this.” He placed in Alastair’s hand a very small box that looked like a miniature sea locker with gold filigree tacked to its surface.
He looked at Rhain, who appeared to be about fifteen years old at the moment.
Inside the box lay a simple large gold-and-green bauble. He could already tell the thing would cost more than a purser’s yearly salary.
“My father’s emerald cravat pin. It was a gift from Mother; he wore it at their wedding. My mother’s wedding band was in here as well; gave that one to Lydia. I, uh…” The man blushed.
Alastair loved that look on his bold, take-charge lover.
“I thought you could have this made into a ring for your ear. Perhaps secure it somehow to this one.” He reached up and traced a gentle touch on Alastair’s gold ring in his ear. “I would be honored if you would wear it.”
He asked, thinking he knew the answer, but needing it said anyway, “And where will we live, Rhain?”
“For now, here on your boat.”
He shook his head, unable to ignore the insult to his fine Hurricane, and corrected Rhain again, “Ship. She is a ship, Rhain.”
The boy only grinned, then said, his voice low and suspiciously moist, “It doesn’t matter to me where we live as long as I’m with you, for the rest of our lives, my pirate. I love you. I need you by my side. Will you have me?”
Alastair dropped the box and reached for his matelot.
Loose Id Titles by Stephanie Lake
The SECOND CHANCE Series
His Second Chance
His Pirate
About the Author
Stephanie Lake is the pen name for a husband/wife team who enjoy writing historical M/M (gay) romance with happy endings and steamy middles. We hope you enjoyed His Pirate, the second book in the Second Chance series. If you liked His Pirate, please leave a review on the site where you purchased the book or on Goodreads. Thanks! :)
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His Pirate (Second Chance Book 2) Page 15