Troy
She was seated with her legs crossed in the bed, her hair piled in that ssy bun she always wore. She had Roro’s map in her hands, pointing to one of the faded pictures on the margin. There was a look of sheer excitent in her eyes, sothing almost rabid and unrecognizable.
“A gem?” I shrugged out of my old leather jacket, tossing it into the corner of the room as I bent to untie the laces of my boots.
“Yes, I’m sure of it.”
I looked up, arching my brow, “What makes you think that?”
“This symbol, it’s repeated several tis, see? I didn’t even notice it before but...I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it in the Temple of the White Queens in Winter Forest. It’s on the statue behind the altar. I used to run my fingers across it.”
“What’s its significance?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t really ever pay attention when my mom was praying,” she frowned, watching with a careful eye. “Can I ask you sothing?”
“No.”
“Why do you all wear those, well, poofy shirts?”
“This?” I looked down, spreading my arms wide so the loose, think fabric unfurled over my arms.
“Yeah. I an, they’re so...so...”
“Old fashioned?” I laughed, reaching up to untie the strings that held the shirt closed over my chest. “They serve a purpose, actually.”
“And what purpose is that? To make sure you look the part while you’re playing pirate?”
I glared at her, then pulled the shirt over my head, tossing it on the bed. She blushed, blinking like an innocent schoolgirl as she looked away from my bare chest.
“Say you get tangled in the rat tails while climbing up to nd the sails, or thrown overboard,” I said, enjoying the progression of the pinkness in her cheeks as I unbuttoned my pants. “Heavy fabric weighs you down in water, and a high neckline can choke you if you’re snagged on sothing at the right angle. You need sothing you can slip out of easily....” I began to pull my pants over my thighs, slowing as I caught her gaze. She swallowed, looking away again and pretending to be invested in the paneling of the wall. “Plus, it’s hotter than Hell on the deck. The loose fit allows air to brush against your skin, keeping you cool.”
“Oh,” she said quietly, not daring to look at . I loved this ga.
“That’s why we wear these old-fashioned shirts. Not because we want to look like pirates, but because we already are pirates.”
She looked at then, smirking, “My dad would lose his mind if he knew I were sharing a bed with—” She stopped, biting her lip. Obviously, she hadn’t ant to say that out loud.
“We’re not technically sharing a bed, are we? I’ve been sleeping on the floor like a dog.”
“Because you are one,” she said pointedly, her chin lifted towards the ceiling.
“Anyway, about the map?”
She looked up and down as I sat next to her in the bed, resting my head against the wall and stretching hugely, my inner arm grazing her shoulders.
“Are you going to put clothes on?” she asked, tilting her head towards my underwear, which was all I was wearing.
“Too humid, storms coming. Plus, you’re supposed to be leaving for work soon. I’ll be able to sleep naked in my bed if I want to.”
She rolled her eyes, scooching a few inches away from and exhaling as she settled her gaze back on the map in her lap. “About the map,” she said, running her fingers along the faded script. “There used to be sothing in the center of the statue of the altar in Winter Forest. I could feel where it had been, I don’t know, chipped away? There was a catch to the space, where the granite was sharp, and it shouldn’t have been. It was no bigger than the tip of my thumb.”
“And you think whatever is missing from the altar is what Damian is after?” I was barely paying attention, my eyes focusing solely on the exposed skin of the back of her neck as she leaned forward over the map. I reached out, touching her neck with my fingertips, watching as the fine, white hair rose against her skin. “Maeve,” I said softly, unable to stop myself, “I’m sorry.”
She looked over her shoulder, the light catching on her strawberry blonde brows as her glacier blue eyes settled on mine. “I know,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Are you even paying attention?”
In a split second, I had her on her back, the map drifting in the air for a mont before falling onto the edge of the bed and then sliding to the floor. She was looking up at , startled, but there was a warmth behind her eyes, sothing I hadn’t seen since I climbed up to her perch in the library.
I bent my head, my face hovering just above her own. She was totally, completely still.
“I want you,” I breathed, my lips brushing hers as I spoke, “and I don’t care if you hate forever. It doesn’t change a thing.”
“I don’t hate you,” she replied, her eyes focused on mine. I had her pinned against the mattress by her wrists, her hands open, palms towards the ceiling. She bent her fingers, the tips of them grazing my own as I held her down.
I kissed her hard, the way I had wanted to for days. She opened her mouth to mine, her teeth biting down on my lower lip.
I reached down along her waist, pulling her shirt up over her stomach, and touched her skin, my hand traveling up to cup her full breast. She sucked in her breath as I squeezed. I let go, rising to my knees over her and gripping her shirt, tearing it open to reveal her breasts.
“Troy!” she squeaked; her mouth slightly ajar in surprise.
“I told you, you can get out of them easily.”
She attempted to knee in the groin, but my weight was holding her down. I bent my head, kissing her on the neck as I ran my fingers up her arms that were still outstretched over her head. Then I kissed her collarbone, then the half-moon scar over her left breast.
Then I took her nipple between my teeth, biting gently as her back arched and she cried out.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No,” she said, a little breathless, “No. Don’t stop.”
***
Maeve
I was limp. I couldn’t have moved, even if I wanted to. Whatever he was doing with his mouth was about to send over the edge.
His mouth left my breasts long enough for him to straighten up and reach down to roughly pull my pants down over my thighs. His fingers slipped into my underwear, pulling them to the side. I exhaled as he touched , his thumb pressing against my clit and making moan with pleasure. Oh, Goddess, how I had wanted this, despite everything. This was bad, so very, very bad.
I arched my hips towards him as his fingers slipped inside of , pushing even closer to the edge. I opened my eyes as he sighed, noticing the smug expression on his face.
I nudged him hard with my knee and he nearly fell off the edge of the bed, releasing his hold on to grip the quilt in order to steady himself.
A look of hunger flashed in his eyes, a challenge. He arched his brow, then grabbed my hips firmly, pulling towards him.
I yelped in surprise, locking my legs around him but he pushed them far apart, gripping my inner thighs with his hands.
And then he bent down, kissing my stomach, then lower, and lower, until his mouth t the tender, aching place between my legs.
“Oh,” I breathed, going limp once more. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, tangling it between my fingers as my hips arched to him, desperation pulsating through my core.
“Troy!” I exclaid, “Where—where did you learn how to do this?”
His head popped up from between my legs after a few monts, a laugh trembling through his chest. He rested his chin on my thigh, shaking his head.
“I’m not going to answer that right now, Maeve.”
“Okay,” I said quietly, panting as he bit my inner thigh, the sensation sending a ripple of pleasure through my body.
He rose over again, running his hands over the curve of my hips and then my breasts, squeezing them until I cried out, throwing my head back against the mattress.
“I’m going to be late for work—”
He flipped over, so I was on top of him, straddling him as he laid against the bed beneath . I was suddenly self-conscious, feeling totally exposed to his gaze. I tried to cover my breasts with my hands, but he grabbed my wrists, shaking his head.
He was hard, ready. I could see the look of anticipation etched into his face. But I sat there, dumbly, unsure of what I was supposed to do next. What had Cleo said to weeks ago? To tell him what I liked? But he was expecting sothing from in this position. I was on top. I was the one in control.
“What do I do now?” I whispered shyly.
“Lift up a bit so I can get my boxers off—”
“Oh, yeah—” I rose on my knees while he awkwardly fumbled between my legs, pulling his boxers down over his knees.
He nudged one of my legs by accident, my knee slipping over the side of the bed, but he caught before I tumbled over, his hands leaving pink marks on my waist.
“I’m not very good at this!” I said hurriedly, a furious blush creeping over my chest and cheeks. I hated not being good at sothing. I hated not being the best. But he was the only man I had ever had sex with, and we had only done that twice. Well, the first ti hardly counted, in my opinion, so once. And Troy? How many tis had he done this? Judging by what he was doing with his mouth a few minutes ago, I’m guessing enough to know exactly what he was doing.
“You’re great at this!” he laughed, his voice catching in his throat as I straddled him again. I could feel him beneath , his cock pressing against the wet folds between my legs. I moved forward involuntarily, seeking my own pleasure without thinking about it. He moaned; his eyes only opened to slits as he looked up at .
“That’s what you do now, Maeve, but with inside of you.”
I eased onto him, the muscles of my thighs tightening as fullness sent a warm sensation through my core. Okay, that wasn’t so bad. I could do this. Plus, from this angle I could see his face clearly in the light from the lantern. His brow was knitted in a look that rode the edge between pleasure and pain.
“Now what?” I breathed, my heart beginning to race.
“Move your hips,” he said softly, sleepily. I shimmied my hips and he grunted, taking by the waist, “I’m not going to last long if you keep doing it like that—”
“Up and down then?”
“Kind of—” He guided with his hands, moving against with his hips. The motion was exquisite, and I felt myself begin to move without his help, my body reaching for my own climax as he panted beneath .
He reached up, his hand on my shoulders and his thumbs stroking my neck before he pulled down, kissing deeply.
It wasn’t long before our movents beca more desperate. I cried out to him, pressing my forehead against his as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over . My body relaxed, my legs trembling as I tried to maintain my position, but I was struggling.
He flipped over onto my back, running his hands over my body and gripping by the waist as he drove into again, and again, and again until he suddenly pulled himself from , crying out as he spilled his seed over my belly.
I had barely the energy to be shocked.
He collapsed next to , the two of us laying against the mattress, panting.
He held his hand up, looking over at expectantly. I arched my brow, bringing my own hand into the air, and he gave a high five.
“Good job,” he said hoarsely, his arm falling back against the mattress.
“Did you seriously just give a high five?”
“Yeah, you earned it.”
I rolled my eyes, elbowing him in the side of the chest before rising, swinging my feet out of bed. “Why did you, um...”
“So I don’t get you pregnant.”
“What—oh, right.” Of course. There was no need for that now, was there? He was no longer my breeder. He was just Troy.
I was okay with that.
He sat up, fumbling in the bed for the torn shirt and handed it to , smiling shyly. “Sorry,” he said as I wiped the sticky substance away.
“It’s probably for the best,” I said with an anxious laugh, my stomach tight with nerves. Thunder bood over our heads, and the sound of rain was echoing through the room. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“Is this the storm you were talking about?” I asked, standing and searching under the quilt for my pants and underwear.
He laid back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. I saw a brief flash of worry cross over his features. “It is, but we’re riding the edge of it. It’ll pass by us. Just be careful walking around today; the boat is going to be moving like mad in these waves.”
I could feel the intense pitch already as I pulled on my shoes. It was definitely past six o’clock in the morning. Olly was probably thinking I was sleeping in.
I looked down at Troy as I pulled one of his poofy shirts over my head, tucking it into my pants so it didn’t fall down around my thighs. “Thank you for...helping ...uh—”
“Sex education, babe,” he laughed, closing his eyes, “I’ll be your instructor as long as you want.”
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