by Sean Michael
“You are a demon, in truth.”
Yes, and the doctor had discovered temptation.
“And what does that make you?” he asked, before taking Grey’s mouth with his, reminding Grey that the man had made love with this demon.
Grey moaned, accepted his kiss, wrapping his hands around John’s shoulders. He pulled the blankets up over them, covering them in darkness as the kisses continued. After some time he gave up control of the kiss, let Grey lead it, guide it.
The passion was abated. This was something different. Something else. It was something he had never done with anyone else and yet he tolerated it with Grey. No, not tolerated, enjoyed it.
It was most intriguing, most fascinating.
He might be compelled to keep this butcher.
Chapter Seven
Stephen sighed at Geoff, wrapping one arm with a bandage. “You must keep the wrap and the salve on it or you will lose the arm.”
Three weeks he had doctored the crew. Three weeks he had dealt with the worst ideas of what medicine was. Three weeks. Still, it was improving. Slowly.
“You’ll take me arm? I knew it! Butcher!” Geoff stood, his chair going flying behind him. “I’ll not let ye.”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Just keep the wrapping on, you great bloody fool. You have better use of it than I do.”
There was a growl from the door. “There a problem down here?” John stood there, arms crossed, looking every inch a pirate captain.
“Yes. Your man is going to lose his arm if he does not listen to me.” Infuriating. They were all infuriating—every last pirate down to a man. Their captain the worst of the lot.
John glared. “Geoff. Do what the butcher tells you.”
Geoff grumbled a “Yes, Cap’n” then stomped off, muttering about a drink.
Chuckling, John came in, eyes sliding from Stephen’s head down to his toes and back up again, that gaze like a touch.
“Thank you, Beast.” Stephen would not look away, not flinch. Unfortunately he could not prevent his body’s response.
And the man knew it, damn him. John’s lips twisting into a wicked grin. “I know a way you could show your appreciation.”
“You have no shame and I have patients.” He turned away, hiding his own grin.
“I have no need for shame and your last patient just left, Butcher.” John’s voice deepened, became husky. “You know you wish to.”
“I will not dally with you here, Beast.” He lifted his chin. “And I am no butcher.”
“Where will you dally with me then…Doctor?”
His lips parted, caught between aggravated and wanton. “Your quarters, only.”
“There is a bed here.” John nodded toward the tiny cot Stephen used as an examination table.
“A filthy cot and I have already told you no.”
“But I called you Doctor. And I told Geoff to listen to you. I deserve a reward.” John was incorrigible.
Stephen laughed, shook his head. “Have some ale.”
“I want you, Grey.” John’s hand reached out and wrapped around his arm, tugging him up against all those muscles. “And then the ale.”
He groaned, tried to pull away. “Not here. Not here, you Beast.”
“Why not? What does it matter where?” He could feel John’s shaft against his hip, hard and hot.
“There are old bandages, the room smells of illness. Have some care, John.”
John’s eyes rolled and the hand on Stephen’s arm tightened, but the man turned and tugged him out of the room. “My cabin then.” The words were growled, but Stephen recognized the sound of need in it now, rather than anger.
“Yes, Beast. Your cabin.” There was little good in denying his own need.
It was not very far at all, only a few steps to the end of the dark hall and they were in the captain’s quarters. It was just weeks ago that he’d been a prisoner in this room at the pirate captain’s mercy. Now he was… He was unsure of what he was. Of his place. He spent hours not considering it.
“Here we are. No more stalling. We both want this.”
John tilted Stephen’s head, mouth descending upon his own. The kiss enflamed him, his hands tangling in John’s hair, the heat between them an addiction. John’s tongue pushed into his mouth, sweeping through it before sliding away, almost daring his own to follow. He moaned, chasing John’s tongue, his own sliding along before pulling back again.
A groan vibrated deep in John’s chest, one big hand sliding down along his back and landing on his ass like it belonged there. They pressed together, both moaned as their bodies rubbed. Insanity. Madness. Lust.
John’s free hand slid up under his blouse, sliding across his belly before climbing, headed right for his nipple. Stephen went up upon his toes, his nipple tight, hard, embarrassingly eager for sensation. The kiss turned into nibbling, John’s lips grabbing his lower one between them, teeth testing his skin.
“Is this what you want?” John asked as his fingertips slid across the small bud of Stephen’s nipple.
He groaned, pressing against that touch.
“My passionate butcher,” murmured John, lips attaching to his throat, covering the mark that had not faded since it had first been left on his skin.
“Not…not a butcher.” Heat flooded him, his chin lifted, passion making him ache.
John chuckled, teeth scraping along his skin, fingers pinching his nipple. “Are you sure?”
“Sure?” He arched, lost in sensation.
There was no answer, only more biting, more pinching and tugging and rubbing. It felt like John was everywhere, all around him. He slid his own hands down John’s arms, John’s chest, petting and stroking.
“That’s it, Stephen. More. Skin. Come now, Butcher, you know you want me.”
“Be quiet, Pirate.” He pushed John’s shirt up, dragging his hands over the rippled belly.
John laughed, stomach fluttering beneath his fingers. The sound soon turned into a moan, the suction on his neck growing fierce. Stephen’s own moan drove him closer, his hips bucking against John’s thigh. John pushed his leggings from his hips, freeing his cock to the air.
“John.” Stephen would not beg, he would not.
John drew back, those blue eyes staring into his own. “I like the way you say my name. As if you need.”
He stared back, unsure what to say, whether to speak at all. Chuckling, John’s slid his hand around Stephen’s cock, began to stroke it, pulling roughly. Everything inside him went tight, hips jerking desperately.
“Tell me what you want, Stephen.” The words were little more than a growl, lodging in the base of his spine, in his balls.
“John. I…” He moaned. He could not.
“So very, very stubborn,” murmured John, eyes holding his as John went to his knees in front of Stephen. “Tell me what you want.”
Oh, dear lord. His eyes rolled, that mouth so close to his need. “You. You, I want you.”
John licked his lips, tongue just brushing Stephen’s shaft. “This?” John asked, tongue swiping across the tip of his cock. Those eyes shone up at him and John did it again, but then waited for his answer.
“Yes.” Heaven forgive him. Please.
John licked his tip again, pushing his tongue against Stephen’s slit for a moment before that hot, hot mouth dropped down around his flesh.
“John!” His thighs spread, hips pushing forward desperately.
John’s hands wrapped around his hips, tugging him back. His erection left John’s mouth with a pop. “Should I stop?”
“St…stop?” What was wrong with the man? John’s lips twitched, those eyes dancing wickedly up at him. Then John’s mouth was around him again, the pirate’s cheeks hollowing, the suction around his cock incredible. His cry echoed, seed pouring from him in a rush, hips snapping, pushing into John’s lips. John hummed around his cock, mouth gentling, but not ceasing the sweet pulls. Aftershocks shook Stephen again and again until John slowly let his shaft go. He wh
impered, knees buckling, only his hands on John’s shoulder keeping him upright.
John’s lips slid along his belly, warm and soft. Now and again the sharp scrape of teeth shot sensation through him as John made his way slowly upward.
“B…beast,” Stephen accused.
John lowered them to the bed, both of them easing down.
He could feel the heat of John’s erection against his hip, the man’s breeches no impediment.
“I need, Stephen. You have come in my mouth. What will you do for me in return?”
“Always a barter with you. Always.”
“I could just take what I want. But I do not.” John’s eyes glittered in the fading light from the porthole, watching him. There was never anywhere to hide from the pirate.
“What do you want?” Stephen refused to look away, to back down.
“You know what I wish. That which you refuse to offer me.” John’s hand slid beneath his buttocks, one finger finding his crease.
“I…” It frightened him, the idea of being hurt, of being torn.
That finger slid along his most private flesh, sending shivers through him. He could hear his own heartbeat, almost as loud as his breath, the only sounds for long moments. “When will you stop denying yourself, Stephen?”
“The act you desire… It frightens me.”
“You still believe I would hurt you? You protest and complain and pretend you don’t like the games we play, yet you have enjoyed everything we have done. Do not deny it, for I have seen it in your eyes, tasted it in your seed.” John’s finger slid across his opening and then returned, teasing the flesh there with a surprisingly gentle touch, tapping against it.
“John.” Stephen moaned, hips arching, pulling away first, then moving closer again.
“Your body knows. It has always known.” John took his mouth, the kiss soft, John’s tongue probing gently, echoing the finger that pressed against him again and again. Against his better judgment, Stephen melted, opened and offered himself into a pirate’s hands. John’s growl of triumph filled his lips, the sound the only thing louder than the beating of his heart.
More fingers joined the first, stroking along his crease, pressing against his entrance each in turn, though not breaching him. He pressed close, hands in John’s hair, the kisses deep and languid, stealing his breath. The kisses lasted forever until he was swimming in them, in the sensations John plied upon him, one melting into the next and the next.
The heat of John’s body seemed to increase, the hard cock had never seemed so large as it did now, rubbing against his hip.
“Please. John.” Stephen pressed them closer together, body liquid and relaxed.
John drew back so those blue eyes could look into his face. “What was that, Butcher? Was that a plea?”
His cheeks flushed, lips going tight together. “No. It was a…request.”
“Oh, you are a very, very stubborn man, Stephen.” He knew John would not have him any other way. John nibbled his lower lip, then his neck, whereupon John joined his lips to the mark he’d left on Stephen’s neck, sucking it, darkening it even more. John drew one of his nipples between firm teeth, worrying his flesh before soothing it, John’s tongue wicked, hot. John’s eyes flashed up at his gasp. “I will give you what you have asked for, Butcher.”
“Not a butcher, Beast.”
John laughed and nipped sharply at his nipple before getting up, stripping as he went to the small chest in the corner of the room. “But your eyes shine so whenever I say it.”
Aggravating monster. He felt chilled without John close, legs drawing up beneath his chin.
John pulled off his leggings before bending to open the chest, taut buttocks exposed to Stephen as John pulled out a little silver bottle with a jeweled stopper. The pirate turned slowly, eyes hot as they met his. The view was even more impressive from this angle, John’s shaft hard, curving up toward his muscled belly.
Stephen could not decide whether that sight aroused or worried him.
John strutted—there was no other word for it, John obviously proud of the figure he cut while naked, not a single trace of shame visible—coming back to him with the little vial. John handed it to him. “Oil. Stolen from a nobleman.”
Stephen looked at it, curious as he unstoppered the vial. It smelled of spices, quite warming. John slipped back into the bed, sitting next to him. The man’s warmth drew him—his moth to John’s flame.
“I imagine he put it to the same use we will.”
“I… I cannot see a civilized man sharing such madness.”
“Can you really not? Are you so convinced only a beast like me would give in to his needs and wants?” John’s fingers began to slide on his skin, so hot, leaving trails of fire behind them. They pushed beneath him, settled cupping his ass. “And what does that make you?”
“Bewitched.” Lost. Seduced.
John laughed. “I’ve been accused of many things, but I do believe this is the first time I have been accused of using magic.” Still chuckling, John brought their mouths together, lips pressing against his, tongue pushing in as it always did, so aggressive—so hot and wet and good.
Stephen allowed himself to be lost to it, caught within it as he always seemed to be. He hardly noticed as John’s fingers took the vial of oil from his own, as he was moved back to lie down upon John’s bed. John’s tongue played inside his mouth, made him melt and press against the strong body.
He did notice when John’s hand returned to his ass, a finger again finding his crease. He stiffened, body going tight without thought.
“You asked for this,” John reminded him, finger stroking, not trying to push into him, just sensitizing his most private skin.
“I…” He knew. He wore the mantle of coward poorly.
John growled, but his fingers were still gentle, touching carefully. “You will enjoy it, Butcher. You will.”
“As if you can simply will it to be so.”
“I am the captain of this vessel. My word is law.”
John kissed him again, moving him again, rolling him onto his stomach. The kiss broke and John’s lips slid around, his hair pushed away as sharp teeth bit gently at his nape. His hips pushed up and back, the motion instinctual, immediate.
“You see. You will.” John purred the words against his skin and began to massage him, to slide strong hands on his skin with firm, warm touches. The pirate’s kisses began at the top of his spine, slow, sucking kisses that were noisy and good and moving downward.
“John…” Stephen’s eyes rolled, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. He had never considered his back to be so sensitive, such an erogenous zone.
John’s answer was only a moan, and he moved his hands to work the tops of Stephen’s thighs, sliding his fingers between Stephen’s legs, spreading them slightly so John could tease the inside of his thighs. The slow kisses continued to move down his back, each one more intense than the last.
“John…” Stephen tried to turn, the pleasure blossoming within him, too huge to bear.
“More begging?” John’s groan slid along his spine, seemed to echo along his skin.
“I… I do not beg.” He groaned, hands scrambling on the sheets.
“But you want me. You want things you believe are wrong and filthy and barbaric.” John’s lips nuzzled the bundles of nerves in the base of his back, the sensations sparking all through him.
“You fascinate me. I cannot help myself.” Stephen fought to pull away, his own deep sounds filling the air.
“I would have you not even try to help yourself.” John’s tongue was suddenly at the top of his crease, a hand on each buttock, spreading him wide as that hot, wet tongue slid down toward his entrance.
“John!” Shock caught him, set him to utter stillness. What madness was this?
John rubbed his cheek against Stephen’s ass and the lick came again, John sliding his tongue again and again over Stephen’s hole. He near sobbed, a mixture of need and panic and pleasure an
d the unknown crashing over him.
“I have you, Butcher,” murmured John, sliding one hand beneath his hip to wrap around his erection, holding it in a tight grip as John began to tease at his hole, tongue pressing against it now, threatening to enter him.
His sight went a bright grey, his hips starting to shift, to rock without his permission. His cock slid through John’s hand and he moved back against the man’s tongue. The sensations were unbelievable, knowing what it was John was doing, even more so. Then, suddenly, he rocked back and John’s tongue pushed right into his body. Everything went quiet and still within him, his only focus that touch, that tongue. John pushed it deeper and deeper into him, John’s face pressed hard against his ass as John’s tongue wiggled inside him. Inside him. Then out, then in again, fucking him there as surely as it had ever fucked his mouth.
“Please. Please. I.” He. He. “I need.”
A pleased hum sounded, John’s tongue vibrating inside him as it moved in and out a few more times.
It disappeared suddenly, John shifting, covering him with that long, muscled body and one of John pushed a single finger in, sliding it deep into his body. Stephen pressed up, back against John, the heat driving his hunger, the pressure inside him new.
John’s pleasure was evident, his thick cock pressing against Stephen’s thigh, leaving a wet trail as John rubbed against him. Sharp teeth, soft lips and hot tongue slid over his shoulder, John moving his finger in and out, assuaging Stephen’s need and making it bigger at the same time.
“I will spend.” He panted, eyes rolling, wide.
“Then spend.” John pushed a second finger into him, John twisting both and they hit something inside him that created an explosion of sensation.
His scream tore from him, body bucking violently, seed pouring from him in a rush. Those fingers kept pressing that place, making the pleasure go and go until he thought he would surely faint.
John’s fingers finally slid out of him and he was turned. “I want to see your face as I take you.”