by Celia Aaron
“This one’s jammed!” The deckhand in the red shirt tries to push a cannon into the gun port, but without luck.
“Move.” I shove him aside and with one strong heave, get the cannon into place.
The other deckhand holds the lit tinder.
I pick up another stack of tinder and use his to light it.
The ship rocks and a tentacle darts inside the gun port. The red-shirted deckhand screams and tries to hold on to the timbers as the tentacles pull him through the too-small opening. Before I can grab him, his body folds in two with a gut-wrenching cracking sound, and he’s pulled from the ship.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck!” The other deckhand, Funk, is frozen to the spot.
I slap him hard across the face as the ship rocks violently. “Fire, you barnacle-balled bilge rat!”
He snaps out of it and runs to the first cannon. He lights the fuse and boom, the sound is deafening as the cannonball roars out of the gun port. Another boom—the explosive ordnance doing its work—and a chilling shriek erupt. I peek through the gun port. Cthulhu is a mess of tentacles and green blood.
I light the fuse in front of me as Funk runs past me to light the next. We go down the row, booms followed by explosions and more shrieks. The ship moans, and splinters rain down as the monster claws at the deck, desperately trying to take the gem that hangs around my neck.
After the last cannon is spent, I dash up the ladder to the main deck. Shade is still at the helm, and Nere clings to the mast. Cthulhu is battered and bloody, the water around it now a sickly green instead of crimson.
It swipes at the ship, its claws raking the wood and tearing a chunk out of the foredeck.
“This ship is brand-fucking-new-to-me!” Rage takes hold, and I long to kill the creature who dares to try and take what’s mine.
I scale the mast and perch myself on the edge of the crow’s nest. When the beast rocks the ship toward it again, I leap and land in the mass of writhing tentacles on its face. The stench of rot and pus almost kills me, but I wrap my legs around one of them and hack at the rest. The monster jerks and falls back from the ship, its razor-sharp claws reaching for me. I swing my sword and lop off one of its webbed fingers. It roars and leans forward, grasping in the water for its appendage.
I stand and plunge my blade downward into what I hope is its brain. Ripping my sword free, I bend my knees and push off, jumping back to my ship. I miss the deck and grip the rail. My wrists protest as I latch on, dangling off my ship. Cthulhu shrieks and writhes at my back. My sword skitters along the timbers toward the starboard side. My heart is pounding, and I want nothing more than to best this Old One of the deep.
Pulling up and over the rail, I right myself on the deck. “Fire!”
The boom sounds, and the ordnance explodes from the ship. It catches Cthulhu right in the bare patch where I cut away the tentacles. The cannonball explodes, sending green blood raining over the ship. It’s our last exploding cannonball. If this doesn’t do the trick, we’re doomed just as Nere said.
Cthulhu groans and falls back, its arms out wide and its tentacles finally still.
I raise my arms in victory. “Fuck you, you bloated bollocks-eating son of a whore’s diseased cunt!”
“A strong performance.”
I spin to find a man behind me holding my sword. He wears a robe of deep blue and has long dark hair. He appears to be about thirty years old, but I’m not fooled. His green eyes speak of ages and ages of wisdom.
I lower my arms. “Poseidon?”
He smiles and flings his hair over his shoulder. “The one and only. You’ve caused quite a lot of problems for me, Captain Remington.”
The ship rocks, and I glance over my shoulder. The Kraken surfaces, its tentacles hovering just away from the ship. I turn toward the aft and see the whirlpool expanding. Behind Poseidon, the six-headed creature rises, and at the fore of the ship, an enormous red sea serpent hisses.
“I don’t see it that way.” I affect a nonchalant tone as I wipe the green blood from my face.
“No?” He runs my blade across his palm, but no blood wells. Immortality must be nice.
“Not at all. Nere?” I motion for her to come to me.
She reluctantly lets go of the mast and walks to my side. Keeping her eyes down, she nestles against me. Poseidon watches her, lust already blooming in the curve of his mouth and the desire in his eyes.
“I brought your fugitive bride as well as the Kraken Stone.” I pull the pouch from beneath my shirt. Nere stiffens next to me, but I keep a strong hand on her waist.
“You’ve also wounded my friend Cthulhu, and the poor Kraken had a terrible run-in with a certain Captain Lament.” He tsks and stares at my chest before licking his lips.
The Kraken makes a snuffing sound behind me, as if crying over its wounds.
“To be fair, you set them upon my vessels—both of them. The first is at the bottom of the ocean, and the second,” I gaze around at the splintered wood and the ruined deck, “needs work.”
He raises my sword. “What’s to stop me from just taking Nere and the Kraken Stone? I can sink your vessel to the bottom of the sea and never blink an eye.”
“That’s a good question. It really is. Nere, care to enlighten your husband?” I dig my fingers into her hip.
“If you harm Cash or his ship, I’ll never stop trying to escape. I’ll run. I’ll tell everyone and anyone who will listen what a bastard you are.” Her spine straightens as she talks. “I’ll tell my father lies about you. I’ll do anything I can to ruin you.”
Poseidon glowers, and his grip tightens on my sword.
I hold my hand up. “Or, Nere will give you the Kraken Stone and accompany you back to wherever it is you live. But there are conditions.”
“What conditions?” He still glares at Nere, who returns her own stony stare.
Something swells in my chest. Pride maybe.
“As you know, Nere is a virgin.” I keep a straight face. “She doesn’t know the way of men like ourselves. So, the first condition is that you never force her. You may only have her when she offers.”
Poseidon turns his gaze to me and lets it rove down my body. “This may come as a surprise, but I can get cunt or cock whenever I feel like it. I don’t have to force anyone.”
“So, you’ll agree?”
“To that condition?” He waves his free hand. “Yes. But what are the rest?”
“The second condition is that I and my ship are granted safe passage on the seas for as long as I live. No Kraken, no fucking whirlpools—nothing.”
“Easily done. Is that all?” Poseidon glances to the quarterdeck. His entire demeanor changes from bored to interested. “And who is this morsel?”
“Shade.” She says with a husky lilt, and walks down to the main deck, her hips swaying extra hard.
Poseidon takes her hand and kisses the back of it with an overdone flourish. She gives the same fake laugh she’s always used on Captain Lament.
“What a rare beauty.” Poseidon cups her chin with one hand and studies her. “Positively perfect.”
I clear my throat. “The third condition is, I’ll need some coin to repair the mess your friends have made of my ship. A chest of gold should do the trick; at least 500 pieces, more, most likely—”
“Done.” He still stares at Shade, who drops her eyes in a demure act.
“Final condition—if Nere wants to see me, you’ll allow it.”
He pauses his inspection. “You mean fuck you?”
“Yes, that too.”
“Hmm, I usually don’t share my brides.” He takes Shade’s hand and spins her slowly, perusing her toned backside and long legs. “But I’ll add this condition of my own. I will share Nere with you, as long as Shade agrees to share herself with me when I visit.”
Shade chews her bottom lip and looks from me to Poseidon. “Oh, I don’t know…”
“Shade, do it.” My voice is a low command.
She purses her lips and pouts. “
I don’t know, Captain.”
“Shade, I’m ordering you—”
“I have a condition, too.” She flicks her eyes to me, and I want to strangle her. “I’ll agree to your proposition, if Cash agrees to make me first mate and split all his earnings with me fifty-fifty.”
“No.” I shake my head.
“I fear our deal is falling through, then. Pity.” Poseidon motions to the sea serpent. It eases beneath the water and appears on both the port and starboard sides, wrapping the ship in a strangle hold.
Fuck. “Wait.” I hold up a hand. “Wait. First mate and seventy-thirty.”
Shade puts her fists on her hips. “I said fifty-fifty.”
The serpent fastens its glistening fangs to the foremast, and the wood begins to scream.
“Fuck! Sixty-forty.”
“Done.” She grins, and I want to choke her with something, preferably my cock.
Poseidon snaps his fingers, and the serpent sinks beneath the surface. “We have an accord. Now, hand over the stone.”
I reach into my shirt and yank the satchel free. Poseidon takes it, pulls the stone from inside, and gives it a thorough inspection.
“You were very naughty, Nere. So very naughty indeed. I hope when you ask me into your bed, you realize I’ll have to punish you for this, and you’ll love every second of it.” He walks to her and takes her by the waist.
She starts to protest, but he bends her back and kisses her. I’m about to rip him off her when she goes lax in his arms and moans like a cheap whore.
Nere is clearly a fast learner.
Shade and I watch as Poseidon hefts her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist. She tangles her fingers in his hair, and he kisses her neck. Her eyes are half-lidded, and she bites her lip as he sucks on her throat.
“See you soon,” she mouths, and then they’re gone over the side of the ship. The sea creatures disappear along with them until only Shade and I remain.
“She just went with him. Gone.” I lean over the edge and stare down into the placid water. “I thought—”
“You thought one good fuck would keep her coming back for more, even in front of her husband?” Shade cackles and turns on her heel.
I grab her arm and whip her around to me. “I’m still the Captain here, and you’ve been in need of discipline for quite some time.”
“She comes up here and plays this ‘save me’ tune, and you eat it up. Of course she’s going back to her husband, Captain Remington.” She yanks her elbow from my grasp. “And I’m first mate now, so fuck off.” The challenge in her eyes stiffens my cock in an instant.
I grab her by the hair. Her yelp only throws fuel on my fire as I drag her past the splintered timbers and into my cabin. I throw her on the bed. She tries to rise, but I shove her down and crawl on top of her. She swings at me, a decent right cross. I catch her fist and pin her hands next to her head. Her breasts jut up to me, the nipples like pebbles through her thin tunic.
“Get off me, Captain.”
“No.” I lean in to kiss her, but she snaps her teeth at me. I grin. “That’s it, you little spitfire.”
I rise up onto my knees. She sits up and swings her legs off the bed, keeping one arm up to ward me off. I would laugh if my entire body wasn’t on fire. The only thing that can quench the flame lies between her legs.
“You’re a fucking asshole, Ca—”
I follow her movements, sitting on the bed with my feet on the floor timbers. Then I grab her and yank her onto my thighs. Gripping around the back of her neck, I hold her down. “I warned you, Shade.”
She struggles as I run my hand up her skirt and graze her already-wet cunt.
“No panties, and you’re so wet for me. Such a slut.” I yank the fabric up.
“Maybe I’m wet for Poseidon,” she grits out, still struggling.
I slap her ass, hard. She yelps. I hit her again in the same spot.
“Cash!”
I slam my rough hand down again, and I know it hurts. Good. I slap three more times in quick succession. She squeals and stops fighting. I slap once more in the same spot for good measure and rub her ass.
“Better, Shade. Much better.” I rear back and spank her other ass cheek, her tan flesh jiggling from the impact. “You like it, don’t you?” I smack her again.
“No.” She ineffectually beats her hands against my calf.
“Liar.” I relish each impact. “You fucking love it.”
“Yes.” Her voice is breathy, fucking sexy.
I slap her harder, jarring her entire body. “Yes, what?”
“Yes, Captain,” she shouts as I bring my hand down again. Her ass glows red, and I hope it bruises from the strength of my swings.
I run my fingers down her ass to her pussy and sink two fingers inside her. She moans as I rub back and forth. I move lower and rub her clit. Instead of holding her down, I run my hand to the front of her neck and squeeze, taking her breath as I stroke her cunt. I push my fingers back inside, then out to her clit again.
I torture her with the back and forth. When she starts to tense, I let up on her throat and neglect her clit to explore her tight cunt. Again and again I tease her, so she knows who owns her ass.
I strengthen my grip on her throat until she begins to go limp, losing consciousness. I rub her clit faster and then let go of her neck. She jerks and squeals, her climax exploding all over my fingers as I ram them inside her. My cock kicks at the sounds of her pleasure.
Still in the throes of her orgasm, I rip her up from my knees and shove her face-first onto the bed. I yank her ass up to me, pull my trousers down, and bury myself inside her in one smooth motion. Her pussy spasms and clenches down on my cock.
“Fuck.” I pull out to my tip and push all the way in until my balls slap against her pussy lips. I grip her hips hard enough to bruise and pound her as she moans into the sheets. She feels perfect on my cock, and the little noises she makes drive me mad with lust.
It’s always this way with her, like an explosion that burns both of us. Once we’ve recovered, we always come back to each other and explode all over again. I reach down and grip her hair, pulling her up to me.
I keep shoving into her pussy as her legs slide farther apart and she rides my cock. I reach around and rip her shirt open to get a handful of her bouncing tits. Her nipples are hard. I bite her neck and twist her hard nubs between my thumbs and forefingers.
She digs her nails into my thighs. “Captain!”
My balls fizz like a foaming sea, and I need to come. But I want to see her face. I shove her forward, grab under her arms, and lift her off me and down to the floor.
“Suck me.” I grip her hair close to her scalp and yank her mouth onto my cock. “Look at me.” I grunt as she takes me to the back of her throat and gazes up at me with amber eyes. Her gag reflex is long since gone, thanks to me, so I fuck her mouth as if it were her pussy.
She takes every inch of me, her lips closing around my shaft as she surrenders to my rhythm. I shove my hips forward, giving it to her rough as she moans around my dick. The vibration makes me groan. She snakes a hand between my legs and strokes my balls. Never taking her eyes off me, she increases her suction, her cheeks hollowing out.
“Fuck, woman.” I stare into her eyes as I come in her mouth. I pull her head forward, lodging my cock in her as I shoot down her throat. She swallows around my cock head, and I groan as I empty into her. The release makes it down to the tips of my toes, and the tension leaves my body.
When my muscles finally relax, I release her. She falls back on her ass and sputters, her lips puffy and her eyes changing from lustful to wrathful.
“Cash Goddamn Remington.” She scrambles to her feet and straightens her skirt. “Don’t you ever fucking try something like that again.”
I smirk and reach for her hand. “It’s Captain Cash Remington. I guess you need more reminding.”
Before she can so much as say another sassy word, I have her over my knee again, spanking he
r fine ass.
Because I’m Cash Remington, and I take what I want.
Author’s Note on Cash Remington
Cash Remington is a man of action and adventure. He kills the bad guys, gets the girl, and always has a story to tell. He may come in different guises—spy, pirate, private detective, prize fighter, prince, and many more. But he’s always the same Cash Remington—the alpha who never misses, takes what he wants, and leaves his women satisfied.
I’ve modeled these stories on the 19th Century “Penny Dreadfuls,” but added plenty of erotic content. Therefore, I’ve dubbed them “Sexy Dreadfuls,” and I hope you enjoy them.
Dark Romance by Celia Aaron
COUNSELLOR
The Acquisition Series, Book 1
In the heart of Louisiana, the most powerful people in the South live behind elegant gates, mossy trees, and pleasant masks. Once every ten years, the pretense falls away and a tournament is held to determine who will rule them. The Acquisition is a crucible for the Southern nobility, a love letter written to a time when barbarism was enshrined as law.
Now, Sinclair Vinemont is in the running to claim the prize. There is only one way to win, and he has the key to do it—Stella Rousseau, his Acquisition. To save her father, Stella has agreed to become Sinclair’s slave for one year. Though she is at the mercy of the cold, treacherous Vinemont, Stella will not go willingly into darkness.
As Sinclair and Stella battle against each other and the clock, only one thing is certain: The Acquisition always ends in blood.
MAGNATE
The Acquisition Series, Book 2
Lucius Vinemont has spirited me away to a world of sugar cane and sun. There is nothing he cannot give me on his lavish Cuban plantation. Each gift seduces me, each touch seals my fate. There is no more talk of depraved competitions or his older brother – the one who’d stolen me, claimed me, and made me feel things I never should have. Even as Lucius works to make me forget Sinclair, my thoughts stray back to him, to the dark blue eyes that haunt my sweetest dreams and bitterest nightmares. Just like every dream, this one must end. Christmas will soon be here, and with it, the second trial of the Acquisition.