by A. E. Murphy
I move to the bathroom to have a small drink of water when I hear the door to the captain’s bedroom open.
My excitement at seeing him increases. It definitely shouldn’t increase. I lie to myself and say it’s probably because the storm is almost over and he’s come to tell me the good news?
“I’ve been going out of my mind,” I call, racing from the bathroom. Unfortunately, I come into contact with an open hand, and not from the man I wanted to see. It’s heavily bandaged and inches from my face. The ring finger is missing and well wrapped in dark red-stained linen.
“Been waiting,” Roger says, swaying a little. He looks yellow and ill. Likely from the pain and any alcohol he has consumed to numb it. “Been waiting for a moment to come.”
I look around for anything I can use against him but there’s nothing. There has never been anything.
“And here you are.” He smiles and takes a step towards me.
“You need to rest,” I inform him. “You look about ready to die.”
“Oh, I’m not the one about to die,” he singsongs and lunges for me.
Screaming, I dart to the side, dodging his good hand by an inch. Though my hair tangles with it and he rips me back. My neck cracks painfully.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he says, as his arm cuts off my air supply by pressing into my neck. I can’t breathe, my throat burns and aches as I try to swallow but it won’t work. He’s going to decapitate me, I can feel the blood pooling in my face. “Before it was just about the sex. Now I’m going to fuck you while I kill you and then fuck you again after.”
“Please,” I try, clawing at his arm with my long nails. He doesn’t even flinch or loosen when I dig my nails in so deep I feel his blood pool around my fingertips.
My panic ascends, making me stronger, fuelling me with the adrenaline I need to kick back, missing his groin by an inch but putting enough space between our bodies for me to get his knee cap. It doesn’t break but it startles him enough for me to run.
I yank open the heavy door and slip through as his hand reaches for my hair again.
“HELP!” I screech into the empty hall but the sound of the rain, wind and ship mask it easily. My rubber soles squeak and slide against the wet surface. The water is seeping into the hall.
I’m about to head up, towards the bridge but he beats me to it, toying with me. Sneering as he blocks my path.
“They’re too busy for you.” He dives at me, grabbing me and slamming me against the wall. “He doesn’t care about you. Nobody does. You’re a cunt and you’re only good for your cunt.”
“Get off me!” I scream, grabbing his bandaged finger and squeezing.
He bellows louder than I could muster from the pain but keeps his hand on my throat. I battle with his good hand as his eyes flash with danger and promises of a painful future.
I kick out again but he moves and his hand tightens.
“He’ll kill you,” I yell. “He’ll kill you for this.”
“Been stripped of my title and job, hand’s flaring with infection they won’t fucking cure and don’t have fuck to live for anyway. Besides, he can’t kill me till both my fingers are taken. Those are the rules.” He chuckles but sweat beads on his forehead and I know all I have to do is keep hitting his hand and eventually he’ll drop. The body can only handle so much pain.
I try to run for the stairs again but he spins me back to the wall. “Nice try.”
Testing my theory, I hit and slap at his hand which he holds out of reach. That is until I feel a crack as his forehead connects with my nose. Dizziness rocks my world and stomach and I drop to the left. He shoves me the rest of the way and down I go.
His hand tugs at the waistband of my shorts as my double vision returns to normal and hot blood seeps from my nose to my mouth.
“STOP!” I screech, fighting against him.
I kick out my sneakered foot, connecting with his hand and race for the door ahead.
Bad move.
As it opens a wave crashes over the hull, drenching me with a cold spray that almost knocks me off my feet. Still, I power on stupidly, trying to reach the outer stairs that lead up to the bridge but I hear him behind me, gaining on me.
“CAPTAI—”
He shoves me forward again and I pray somebody has seen something or heard something.
I run and keep running, wiping my nose on my wrist, barely glancing at the smear of blood that marks my creamy flesh.
I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing, all I know is I need to get away. There’s a door in the distance, if I can get to it…
The boat rocks, a wave cascades over the deck, crashing against the fixtures, crashing against me. I slide to the starboard side, hitting my arm on the base of a gun as I try to grab at its slippery surface.
Pain ricochets through my bones but not enough to make me stop.
Roger, used to this kind of rocking and water, descends upon me with ease, his balance much better than mine.
“Reckon I can finish before somebody gets here,” he shouts over the noise, grinning evilly as his hand pulls on the cord of my shorts, untying the front. I have to hold them up now but another wave comes with another jerk of the metal beast and I frantically try to keep hold.
“Touch me and I will kill you before he ever does,” I yell, trying to be brave.
At least I got to talk to my mum one last time.
The sea saves me and rocks the boat so violently even he can’t stay standing. He lands on his bad hand and I slide into the railings. The boat tips so violently I worry it’s about to capsize.
I look up at the lit bridge, wondering if they can see me. Wondering if I’ll be saved.
I doubt anybody is checking the deck. They’re all staying where it’s safe.
I’m going to die.
If he doesn’t kill me, the sea will.
I hold onto the railing and see a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of light through the black clouds. The sun is rising, the storm is clearing.
“RAIN!” I hear Captain’s deep voice, panicked, almost drowned out by the noise.
He saw me. He’s coming for me.
Or perhaps I’m imagining it.
Perhaps I just want to hear it?
“Fuck it,” Roger rumbles and I feel his shoulder in my stomach as the tilting ship starts to right itself.
Before I can even think about grabbing a hold of anything, gravity starts to take me towards the black water and a coldness like none I’ve ever felt hits me. It felt like I was falling forever before the wind escaped my lungs and, in its place, came salty water so cold I can’t move a muscle.
Roger vanishes into the water, releasing me the second it hit us both. I can still hear his maniacal laughter in my ear. It’ll be the last thing I hear before I die.
But then…. Then I remember the life jacket as the water stirs around me.
My frozen hand slowly moves in the water, reaching for the cord.
I yank it twice and feel pressure around my face and chest as I start to rise in a cloud of bubbles.
The second my face feels the air I try to gasp for oxygen but my chest burns and aches.
I can’t breathe, at all.
Voices yell from above as an arm wraps around my stomach. At first, I think it’s Roger and panic, ready to kick and thrash, but then I hear his voice in my ear.
“Breathe. I’ve got you.”
I turn, wrapping my arms around his neck as he extends his arm, gripping a rope tight. We leave the water slowly, hitting the side of the ship though he turns us so his side takes the brunt of it.
“PULL!” somebody cries. “PULL!”
With every pull, we rise a metre more until finally, hands grasp at us both and we drop to the deck, panting, spluttering and breathing heavy. My body is a fleshy rock, too heavy for my lack of energy.
“Get her up,” somebody shouts. “Get her moving.”
Captain stands, shaking his limbs and hopping around as I’m yanked to my fe
et which are boneless. I can hardly stand my body is full of tiny pins and needles.
They tear the life jacket from my body and toss it away.
The rain still pours but like a moment of magic, the air settles and the sound of the waves crashing suddenly stills as though they were never rioting in the first place. Captain presses me into his body, rocking us, moving us as the rising sun gifts us its warmth. The men around us, themselves damp, join in and I realise they’re using body heat to help our temperatures rise.
“You’re okay,” he whispers into my hair, trembling and breathing heavily.
“You jumped in after me, are you crazy?”
He pulls back and smiles but I miss his heat and immediately bury my face in his neck. “Back to work, men. We’re good.”
“Speak for yourself.” My teeth chatter as I cling to him for dear life. The heat leaves my back and a blanket replaces it. “This is going to get soaked.”
“It’s a foil quilt, it’ll be fine,” Captain whispers ripping off his bandana when it falls over his eyes.
“You dove in after me,” I repeat as another storm cloud covers the sun, shrouding us in shadows. Rain continues to pour so he walks us backwards, standing us under a flap of metal that overhangs a square container that’s just bigger than him. The rain is at an angle so it continues pelting us but at least we can get our body temperatures back in private. “You saved me.”
He lets his head fall back and once again the sun appears, casting an orange glow over his handsome features.
“Is the information that important to you?” I’m fishing, trying to figure out his motives. “Is that why you put yourself at risk?”
His eyes flash back to mine, the green glows and smoulders with an intensity I can’t place. “No.”
They flicker to my lips as he dips his head and I raise mine to meet him. I don’t care about anything else right now. How can I?
But then I see Niall, I see how scared he must be, his love for me causing his desperation. Could I do this to him? Willingly kiss the man who is the cause of all of this?
I step away, regretting my own lack of strength instantly. “I should go inside.”
He doesn’t protest and I’m grateful for that.
Back in his room, I remove my sodden clothing, letting it drop to the floor. I don’t know if I’m allowed a shower yet but I need to. It’s funny after spending time in the freezing sea I need a cold shower.
I turn it on, keeping a fluffy towel wrapped around my body as I wait for it to heat.
He jumped in after me without hesitation. He could have hit the water wrong, or winded himself and drowned, or basically anything else.
What am I doing?
Why am I tormenting myself?
The reality of it hits me harder than the cold ocean. I wipe away tears and pray for strength to get me through this too.
“Captain?” I call when the door opens and closes.
“I’m not doing this,” Captain states, appearing in the doorway without a shirt.
I shuffle nervously. “Doing what?”
“Playing this game anymore.”
“Game?”
He crosses the distance and I don’t move an inch. His heated eyes, the strength of his body, everything consumes me.
Fingers grip the back of my neck and then his lips are on mine, angry, firm, soft, sweet, salty from the sea. Everything vanishes.
The memories of my other life, the capture, the cell, all of the bad stuff disappears.
His tongue tastes mine and I hum in appreciation. This is a man who knows how to kiss.
He sets my body on fire with his calloused touches. It’s when his fingers scrape across the bare flesh of my ribs that I realise he has dropped my towel onto the floor and I’m nude.
We hasten our pace, our kisses becoming enraged and more frantic as I reach for his trousers and push them over his hips. The aggression and desperation we feel towards each other, not just because of what we are, captive and captor, but because of how we’ve denied ourselves.
This has gone on too long yet it hasn’t even been a month and this man consumes me.
He walks me backwards, our lips never parting as he steps out of his trousers and lowers me onto the bed.
I fight against him though not because I want him to stop but because I need him to hurry.
A groan rumbles through his chest when I rip a hand through his hair for grip, and fist his cock with my other. I should be terrified right now. I should be thinking of other things but I can’t.
He grabs my hands and pins them above my head right at the exact moment that he thrusts inside, sinking into my wetness. It stretches, burns, and aches but it feels incredible. I squeeze him, milking him as he starts to thrust while still keeping my arms pinned.
Teeth bite and nip at the inside of my arm as his hand hitches my thigh higher up his hip. It’s an explosion of sensations, the fullness, the tingling of his bites, the pinch of his fingers as they slide down to beneath my arse and hold me tighter so he can force himself deeper.
“Captain,” I breathe as his pace quickens. My moans and mewls become louder and more uncontrollable. His do too. Hearing his grunts, hearing his whispers of my name unravel me.
I push my hips up, fucking him from beneath.
“I’m going to…” I warn but I lose it before I can finish the sentence.
Pleasure spirals and crashes through my body, an angry ocean of denied pleasure consuming me. I’m the ship and I’ve been capsized and it feels incredible.
“Harder,” I beg as the tingles burn worse and worse, still building in anticipation of my next orgasm.
He sits back on his knees, gripping my hips and lifting them. His eyes watch my breasts bounce with each thrust and slap of hips.
“You don’t know how sexy you are to me,” he bites out through gritted teeth. “I’m never going to stop. The ship could fucking sink and I still wouldn’t be able to stop.” His thumb moves to my clit as my eyes find is. “Your body is… your pussy… so tight… fucking warm.” With eyes now clenched shut and gritted teeth he growls through his release, I feel him swell and pulse inside of me as his thumb rubs the right spot and I lose it again, following him as he finishes.
But no, he’s not finished.
He stops for all of a second before he flips me over despite my protests and takes me from behind, his chest against my back, his hand cupping and rubbing my mound.
I never want this to end either. Never.
“Fuck,” he breathes against my neck, biting me there too. I love that. Love the flash of pain before the blood rushes to that area. “I need it harder, Rain. Can you take it?”
I push back against him, humming my approval and he starts hammering into me, going back again and pulling my hips up until my face and arms are shamelessly splayed across the mattress and my arse is up against him.
He drives into my throbbing sex, growling his approval, moaning and breathing loudly and heavily.
“FUUUUCK!” he cries as his hand furiously works my clit. The second he feels me clench down with another earth-shattering orgasm, he follows with his second. I didn’t even know guys could do that twice in one session.
I release my own moans into the pillow, pressing my face deep into it, ignoring the perspiration that dampens the soft fabric.
I’ve never felt like this, so aroused yet sated, as though my body needs more already despite the satisfaction it feels at finally joining with him. The forbidden fruit. The enemy.
My captor.
“Finally,” he mumbles, rolling me over onto my back and collapsing on top of me. His breath tickles the curve of my breast.
Finally.
He left only once yesterday to work and bring food, a collection of cheese and crackers and some processed meats. He also brought wine which we drank in bed… from each other’s bodies. I didn’t have enough time to feel guilty about everything that happened because he made sure to join us at the hips again the second my
mood dropped.
It’s as though he can sense the moment my thoughts start to stray. Which is odd considering I’ve always been good at controlling my facial expressions.
This morning he arose at daybreak, clearly tired after a long day. A glorious day. A day I’ll definitely regret soon, but not now. I just can’t bring myself to mar such an amazing union of bodies. It was incredible. Better than incredible.
When he exits the bathroom, his lips slightly white from toothpaste, he leans over me and pushes them onto mine. I deepen it, much to his surprise and pull him back onto my body. I ache everywhere but the happiest I’ve felt since I arrived is when I was joined to him.
When I’m with him, I forget about everything else and I’m terrified if he leaves me for too long, all of my hatred and anger and longing to leave will return.
I don’t want to feel hatred. I don’t want to feel anger. It’s exhausting.
I don’t want anything to penetrate this feeling. Well… not unless it’s his penis.
Climbing out of bed when he leaves, I bathe for a long time, only resurfacing when I’m well and truly pruned. Then I don clean clothes as always and head to lunch. Despite what happened last night I feel much more relaxed so I head to Geoffrey’s lab in socks only, because my sneakers are too wet.
He smiles at me warmly and moves to embrace me. “I heard what happened.”
We part but only so he can assess me and his eyes fall to my neck. “Did that fucker do that to you?”
I remember the love bite on my neck, just above my collar and cover it with my hand. I saw it as I checked my body in the mirror for bruises, I’m no worse for wear fortunately. “No… I mean yes.”
Geoffrey’s eyes narrow and his hands slowly let go of my shoulders. “You’re lying.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Did the captain force himself on you?”
My eyes widen and I take a step back. “No, God no. He wouldn’t do that.”
His kind hazel eyes flash with something that looks similar to how I’d perceive envy. “You willingly lay with the captain? The man who ordered your capture?”
I look at Chatterbox in the corner whose lips are rising with a secret smirk. “It’s none of your business, Geoffrey. You don’t get to judge me and my choices.”