by Lilli Feisty
Except she’d never considered the Rose home. It had been a prison, a place where she was forced to spread her legs and open her mouth and service men. It wasn’t a choice. Now, she was making a choice. It could very well turn out to be the most disastrous choice of her life, but at least she was able to make it for herself. For once.
“Captain—”
The words were spoken by a man with a voice so deep it sounded like thunder. He was taller than any man Bryn had ever seen. His hair was as ebony as his skin, and hung from his head in long, knotted ropes. He must have had five pounds of shells woven into the strands.
She felt the Captain tense beside her. “I know about the crew. But we need to get the fuck out of here. Now. And I already found one replacement.” He gripped her arm and shoved her forward. “This is—what’s your name, boy?”
“Bryn—Brian.”
The thin man narrowed his gaze at her. “Bryn—Brian?” he asked.
“My friends call me Brian.” She hoped that sounded believable. She really hadn’t planned this whole pose-like-a-boy-and-sneak-away-on-a-pirate-ship idea, so if she was going to pull it off she was going to have to be able to think on her feet. “You can call me Brian. Too.”
The Captain said, “Bryn—Brian’s our new swab hand. I’m Captain Xander.” He pointed to the man who’d been walking with them. “This is Hawke, my first mate.” He pulled her deeper into the ship. “That man you just met is our purser, Adiv. You’ll meet the rest of the crew later.” He slanted her a grin. “Let’s go have a drink to celebrate. And Bryn?”
“Yes?” she squeaked.
“Welcome to our ship. The Sugar Skull.”
Chapter Three
They walked deeper into the ship. Bryn tried to school her expression, despite the fact that she was in total awe of being on a ship for the first time. It was much...shabbier than she’d imagined. It seemed like every inch of the boat was made of something recovered from the piles of scrap just outside the city. But she supposed, based on her sheltered existence, it wasn’t surprising that the rest of society didn’t live in the elegant environment she was used to.
She wondered if she’d miss it.
But the thought immediately reminded her of what she needed to do before it was too late. They pushed through a door to what appeared to be the Captain’s chamber. A large bed hung from four lines of hemp rope that had been secured to the ceiling. The interior walls were made of various scraps of metal that had been pieced together and affixed to the surface. Captain Xander walked to a corner and lifted a bottle from a table. When he glanced up at her, through a lock of brown hair, something inside her chest did a little skip.
What was that about?
“You drinkin’?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. A bit too enthusiastically, perhaps, because he quirked a brow and grinned.
And that grin did that funny thing to her heart again.
What was wrong with her?
He poured the drink into a second mug, and a third. Then he carried the mugs over and handed one to her and one to Hawke. “Fuck,” he said, lifting his glass.
Bryn took a small sip and tried not to spit it out. The stuff burned her mouth, and when she swallowed it trailed down her throat and pooled like a hot coal in her belly. “What is this?”
Xander drained his cup. “C’uerveh. It’s made from leaves of cactus. Every time we have a job down south we pick up some bottles. Good, no?”
It wasn’t exactly the desert berry wine she was used to, but she nodded anyway. “Captain Xander, I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you.”
Turning, he headed back to the table of bottles and refilled his cup. “What’s that?”
“Can I send a message to my…family? Let them know where I am?” She needed to let Ayla know she was okay.
“Well, it looks like we’re stuck here for the night. Feel free to run home and talk to them. Just be back before dawn. This ship’s launching at sunrise—and I don’t care how many of Viven’s guards we have to kill to get out of here.”
Bryn stepped forward. She couldn’t go to the brothel—it would be much too risky. But how would she get a message to Ayla? She couldn’t simply disappear. Her Sister would worry her poor head off. But she had no idea how to get a message to her friend. Roses were not trained in the art of reading or writing. Whatever she sent to Ayla had to be enigmatic, yet obvious enough for Ayla to figure out Bryn was safe.
Xander fell into a chair unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It was ornately carved out of rare wood, with a tall back that seemed to be the image of...
“You like that?” Hawke went to stand beside Xander, and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Um...” She did. The wood had been sculpted into the erotic image of several men in sexual positions. They had large erections, and limbs, mouths and cocks were arranged in what could only be described as an orgy.
Bryn had seen orgies. Often, Jahns wanted two, three or even four girls at a time. Bryn didn’t mind those Jahns. It meant she got to spend her time enjoying the bodies of her Sisters instead of being used as a man’s sole purpose of pleasure. And a cock could really only fit into one mouth at a time, so it also resulted in allowing Bryn to share that particular task she hated so.
But again with the men together. Why did she respond so strongly to the thought? Being with a woman was a special event for a man. If women were able to live freely, perhaps things would have been different. But because women were protected and had no control over their own destinies, they had become nothing more than an article of trade.
Never had Bryn chosen to lay with a man. They’d always chosen her.
Now…it was different. The way Hawke was massaging Xander’s shoulder, the erotic image behind them, the way they were both looking at her…
Holy Priestess.
Hawke touched Xander—running his hand lightly over his shoulder, across his back, and her heart started to pound. He palmed the back of Xander’s head and she sucked in a breath as Hawke fisted a handful of Xander’s hair.
They watched her. Were they testing her? Xander leaned back in his chair, his knees falling open to reveal an erection that strained against his trousers. Bryn’s gaze landed there, and she felt her own sex responding.
Why? She’d seen hundreds of hard cocks. And she’d rarely—if ever—been sexually aroused by the sight of one. So now why was lust pooling between her legs? Why were her nipples tingling? Why did she feel a hot flush creeping up her neck?
Hawke reached around Xander and began unbuttoning his shirt. As his long fingers made quick work of the clothing, Xander’s gaze locked on to hers. They weren’t even touching, and yet she felt connected somehow, as if his own arousal was seeping into her body just through his stare.
Her own gaze finally dropped as Hawke pulled off Xander’s shirt, revealing a chest so smooth and lean Bryn licked her lips. She wanted to lick Xander’s nipples. She wanted to feel his skin, taste his skin. She wanted to…
The Captain dropped his top to the ground. “Are you a virgin, young Brian?”
“W-what?” she sputtered. She was a prostitute, hardly a virgin. “Why would you ask that?”
Xander leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You seem young, but not that young.”
Not that young? She sucked in a breath and was about to retort but caught herself. A man looking for work on a ship wouldn’t argue about such a thing. So she relaxed her stance. You should do something manly… Should she grab her crotch?
Maybe not. “My family has such genes. I am tw-eighteen years, Captain.”
“Tweighteen?”
“Eighteen. Sorry. I overcame a speech impediment when I was a young, er, younger g-boy.” She bit her tongue. She really needed to shut her mouth.
Xander cocked a brow. She shifted in her chair. Would he really believe she was seven years younger than her actual age?
Silence stretched before he finally said, “It’s just that you a
ppear a bit…naïve. Something about you gives the impression of inexperience.”
“You think I’m an inexperienced virgin?” she said and then slapped a hand over her mouth. But the idea was so ridiculous… She straightened her back. “I am not a virgin, sir. I have lain with men.” She knew it would be unusual for a lowly deck hand to be able to afford the services of a woman, so it would be likely Brian had been with men.
Well, at least that part wasn’t a lie.
And wasn’t that an understatement? Most likely she had seen and tasted more cock than all of the members of this ship. Combined. A hundred times over.
She wouldn’t mention that last part.
Xander’s gaze was still nailed on her. “We just wanted to make sure because this crew tends to be very active. Sexually. I’d hate to make you uncomfortable. You’d be surprised how many men start complaining after a while.”
Her stomach dropped. “Does that mean… Do you mean sexual relations are a requirement to be onboard?” As it was, she wasn’t sure how she was going to get by as a man, but if sex was a requirement she knew she was going to be doomed from the start. She could bind her breasts and pretend she was twenty, but a vagina was a bit tricky to disguise as a penis.
Hawke crossed his arms over his chest and grinned wickedly. “Not a requirement. But it’s a lot more fun than just swabbing decks, right?”
“Um. I suppose.”
“Suppose what? Are you saying you don’t like sex, young Brian?” He shook his head. “Because I have to say, I just don’t understand such a thing.” He placed a hand on Xander’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“We just wanted to make sure you understand this ship tends to be a bit…rowdier than other boats. We sail. We search. We get paid. And we fuck.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out. His words shocked her…and aroused her.
They were watching her, obviously waiting for a response. Finally, she said, “Um. Okay. Can I watch?”
Xander barked a laugh and glanced at Hawke. “You can watch all you want, right, H?”
“But of course.” His blue eyes darkened. “Watching is always encouraged on this ship.”
“Damn straight,” Xander said. “In fact, you can start now. We’ll give you a little peek of what to expect.”
“That’s right. I’m his boy. His servant. Right, Captain?” But despite his elegant demeanor, there was something about Hawke that could only be described as male. His jaw was firm and strong, body lean yet solid-looking. He reminded her of the warrior servants, trained in the Far East to be fighters known to kill with nothing more than their bare hands. Talkative Jahns had spoken of them, and something told her Hawke would triumph in battle with such a manner.
So it was bizarre—and bizzarrely erotic—to observe.
Xander reached up to bring Hawke’s mouth to his. Bryn could barely breathe as she watched the men kiss, their tongues dipping inside each other’s mouths, their lips pressing together. The sight was shocking, exhilarating. Bryn unclenched hands that had been fisted at her side.
Hawke finally released Xander from his grip and looked toward Bryn. “You don’t have do anything, Bryn. Participation is entirely up to you.”
She swallowed. “Okay.” Everything was surreal, it seemed as if she’d stepped into another world. She supposed in a sense she had. She was out of the brothel, on a ship, apparently about to witness two men copulating. Something she’d only glimpsed through distorted glass.
On shaky legs she went to a chair and fell into it. “I want to watch.” The words came from a dry mouth, and her heart was racing. Normally, she was the one who was watched. She was the one people paid for. Now, a powerful rush surged through her at the thought of being in a position of observer.
And it was incredibly hot.
“As you wish, Brian.” Why did Xander’s eyes sparkle when he said her name? Like he knew.
Impossible. He would have turned her in if that was the case. Instead they were giving her total freedom. Their boat, their journey. And now, sex.
And she didn’t have to do anything but watch. If she wanted to. The thought made her head spin.
Hawke knelt between the Captain’s legs. Xander touched the blond man’s head lightly as he removed Xander’s boots and placed them on the floor. Then Hawke untied his trousers and pulled them down his legs.
From across the room, Xander’s eyes fixed on hers. She knew the look of desire, certainly. So why did the way his brown gaze bore into hers—dark, dilated and wanting—go straight through her. Her pulse beat like a drum in her ear, and her pussy throbbed.
She sat there. Watching. Free to watch. The combination of freedom and arousal exhilarated her, and her chest seemed to swell from the power of it.
Hawke took Xander’s cock in his hand. The head of his cock was shiny, dripping with a sheen of his own arousal. Bryn licked her lips. She’d tasted plenty of come, but she’d never wanted to before.
Not like now. She watched Hawke’s tongue dart out to lick the head of Xander’s penis, her gaze fixated on the way he licked around the tip. Bryn was jealous. She wanted to taste Xander’s skin. And then something else, a vision came to her, and she had to squeeze her legs together as the longing became so intense it nearly overwhelmed her.
What would Hawke’s mouth feel like on her own sex? She wanted to know.
But that would never happen. Because she was pretending to be a boy. Right?
She’d enjoyed sex, but had only experienced pleasure with women. She’d thought about this, wanted it. But before, the only way she imagined it would happen to her was if she was being purchased. Never of her own free will.
She could walk away any time. But she didn’t.
Instead, she watched Xander. Saw the way his hands tightly clenched the arms of the chair as Hawke took his cock deep into his mouth. Her entire body thrummed with desire and lust. Her pussy dripped with arousal. She couldn’t take her eyes off the scene before her. She watched the back of Hawke’s head move up and down, up and down, striking a rhythm as he sucked Xander, strong, deep. To her surprised, Bryn found herself experience a twinge of envy.
Envy at sucking cock? What was wrong with her?
It was the novelty. It was the site of two men doing what she’d only seen women do to men. It was more. The passion, the emotion between the two men was palpable and as Xander threw his head back, his eyes half-lidded and still watching Bryn, she had to shift in her chair as the longing between her legs intensified, making her thighs shake.
Power. She’d never seen anything so powerful as what she was witnessing. She’d never known there could be power in sex, but here it was. Right before her eyes.
And her body responded with such force it made her feel as if she were floating.
Xander cried out. She watched every muscle in his torso clench, and his hips thrust forward. Impressed, she watched as Hawke took him so deep Xander’s entire cock nearly disappeared in the blond man’s mouth. Xander released the arms of the chair and buried his hands in Hawke’s hair, holding him still as he pumped what Bryn knew to be his essence into the other man’s mouth, his throat.
Finally they stilled, and Xander’s breathing began to slow. Eventually he released Hawke’s head, and the man stood. They looked at her.
Her own breathing hadn’t slowed one bit. In fact she was practically panting, needing a release of her own. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she knew she had to do something. Without thought, she started pushing herself out of the chair.
Xander shook his head. “Stay.”
His command was sharp, and left no room for argument. She was so out of her head, she doubted she could argue anyway. “If you like to watch. You can watch. ’Cause we’re not done yet.”
Oh God. She wanted to run. She wanted to touch herself. She couldn’t do any of those things. She couldn’t even think.
Hawke picked up two pieces of rope and approached her. “Don’t worry, pet. You can watch all you want. We l
ike it.”
“Wait—”
But it was too late. Before she even knew what he was doing, he was tying one of her wrists to the arm of the chair.
“No—” Panic coursed through her. They were going to restrain her? Why?
Hawke pushed away a lock of hair and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. It calmed her in a way only Ayla had been able to do. Strange, now that she thought about it, there was something about Hawke that reminded her of Ayla. He had a similar serenity about him. Something about him made her feel at ease.
He’s tying me to a chair. No choice anymore. Instinctively, she began to struggle.
He put a hand on her shoulder, and she stopped. Looking up into his blue eyes, she was again reminded of Ayla. Hawke’s eyes were almost identical to her chamber-mate’s, the blue unique and bright. And caring.
She wasn’t sure why, but his touch soothed her. He kissed her again, this time on the mouth. She could taste Xander on his tongue, and her eyes drifted shut as she sank into the chair. Thoughts drained as he continued to lick her lips, taste her tongue. She felt this kiss everywhere—her breasts, her belly, her pussy. The only one who’d ever kissed her like that before had been Ayla. And, like when Ayla kissed her, she melted.
He released her. Slightly stunned, she opened her eyes. Hawke’s eyes twinkled as he gave her one last look—was that triumph she saw there?—and crossed the room, toward the bed. As he walked, he started removing articles of clothing. He untied the string at the neck of his tunic and pulled it over his head. A new wave of awareness washed over her as Xander’s movement caught her eye. He was naked and he was…magnificent.
They both were. And she wanted them. Wanted this.
Whatever this was.
Chapter Four
How strange. As a Rose, she’d been forced to endure men touching her, more men than she could begin to count. She’d had to pretend every second, had to pretend as if she enjoyed taking a man in her mouth. As if she enjoyed spreading her legs to allow a stranger to kneel between her thighs and fuck her. Now, watching Xander stroke Hawke’s smooth back, his fingers lingering on the thin man’s hips, she felt privileged. She was tied, but the restraint only fueled the lust raging through her. Her pussy throbbed, wet and pulsing between her legs.