Page 56 of A Pirate's Pleasure
“Such as?”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “Zebra. Zany. Zero. Zigzag.”
Fingertips traced the journey of the ink, goosebumps breaking out on my skin from the gentle touch. “I was hoping,” Zeph said, “that it might be for my name.”
“Your name?” I said, holding my smile back. “Ah, yes, that begins with a Z as well, doesn’t it?” I pulled him down on top of me, letting my thighs fall open so that Zeph sank into the juncture between them and our cocks pressed together. Mine, fully hard, and Zeph’s well back on the way to being so despite his earlier orgasm. I stole another kiss, his lips too much of a lure to resist. “Of course, it’s for your name,” I said. “I was hoping it would mean you’d stop pretending to hate me.”
Zeph’s snort vibrated against my skin. “Who said I was pretending?”
I might have made a cutting retort of my own, but I’d found a better distraction, exploring his broad shoulders and those spectacular back muscles of his instead, before letting my hands roam to the firm swell of his arse. My fingers drifted over his cleft, relearning the body I’d once known as well as my own.
He groaned as my fingertips ghosted over his hole. Taking it as an invitation, I rubbed the pad of my thumb against the sensitive skin I found there, stroking, caressing, but not trying to penetrate. Not yet, anyway. Not until I’d gauged what Zephyr wanted out of this, what he expected.
As teenagers deep in the throes of a mutual and all-consuming passion, we’d cared nothing for labels, giving no thought to who did what to whom. All that had mattered was losing ourselves in pleasure, and with that as our goal, nothing had been off the table. But we weren’t teenagers anymore. Far from it. And it wasn’t just any man whose hole I was circling with the pad of my thumb. It was the fearsome Captain’s Chase’s, the man who people went out of their way to avoid if they could help it, so they didn’t risk raising his ire and suffering the worst of what nature had to offer.
He raised his head, his gaze meeting mine. Whatever he saw in my expression had his lips curling up at the corners and his eyes sparkling with amusement. When he rolled off me, my heart sank. Were we done? Was he bringing a halt to proceedings? And then he rolled onto his back and hitched his thighs up to bare himself to my gaze. “Have at me, Lord Cooper.”
“Don’t call me that. Not unless you’re happy for me to call you Captain Chase.” I was already moving to a kneeling position between his spread thighs, though, my hands smoothing over the softer and less hair-roughened skin of his inner thighs.
“I’d be fine with that.”
“Yeah?” He was a tantalizing sight to behold spread out in front of me. “Well, Captain Chase…” My voice had dropped to a seductive whisper of its own accord, desire roughening the edges and making me sound like someone I didn’t recognize. “…welcome home.”
“Lief…”
“Yeah?” I tore my gaze away from the sight of the pretty, puckered skin begging to be penetrated, as I’d once done many times so long ago. It was a difficult feat, one that required quite the act of willpower on my part.
“Less talk. More action.”
It was all the invitation I needed, my legs already carrying me off the bed and across the room to the desk where I’d discovered a vial of oil during Zephyr’s absence.
“Made yourself at home, I see,” Zephyr commented drily.
I was already back on the bed and smoothing oil on my fingers. With my gaze fixed on Zephyr’s, I placed the pad of my thumb back where I’d had it earlier, watching his eyes grow smoky with pleasure as I massaged him. He let out a little gasp as I pushed it inside him. It was barely an inch, just enough to give him a feeling for what it would be like when I did the same with my cock, the organ throbbing insistently and begging me silently to make it soon before I embarrassed myself by coming before I even got inside him.
“More,” Zephyr said, the entreaty more moan than word.
I gave him more. I gave him the full length of my thumb before swapping it for two fingers and searching out that special area. He really sang then, Zeph’s body twisting under my ministrations, his cock back to full stiffness. By the time I pulled my fingers out and lined my cock up with his hole, the head resting against the tender skin, I was awash with lust and need, and a thousand other emotions.
Zeph hitched his thighs higher in a silent invitation. “Look at you,” I said, my voice just a breathy whisper. “I’d forgotten. I don’t know how, but I had.”
A keening whine came from Zeph’s throat as I pushed inside. It was a whine that said the entry was equal parts pain and pleasure. I slowed down, wanting it to be all pleasure, wanting him to remember that there’d been a time when I’d known exactly what he needed and had never hesitated in my endeavors to give it to him.
He pulled me down for a kiss as I sank inside him, inch by slow inch, our two bodies slowly becoming one in that special brand of perfection we’d always shared before pride and stubbornness had gotten in the way to drive us apart. It was a struggle to stay still and let him grow accustomed to me, everything within me screaming that I needed to move, needed to feel everything that his tight arse had to offer.
When we moved together, it was as good as it had always been, a shallow thrust quickly turning into something deeper, metaphorically and physically, the air filling with gasps and pants that might have been mine, but could just as easily have come from Zeph. The two of us were lost to anything except the slow slide of my cock in his arse. Hands roved over my body as I fucked him and there was nothing off limits to my lips. Not neck, not shoulders, not ears, wherever I could reach becoming a target for my sheer adoration and appreciation of Zephyr’s body. Still needing more, I hooked Zeph’s ankles over my shoulders and drove deeper, picking up speed as I urged us both toward orgasm.
“Lief!” Nothing else but my name, but I got the sentiment behind it. And at least it was confirmation that we were the only two who lay together in this bed. No ghosts of past lovers. Although, there was an argument for us being the ghosts.
I was pounding him now, Zeph taking everything I had to give and still begging for more. We were both close, both hanging by a thread but determined to drag it out for that few seconds longer. Only if I didn’t come soon, I was liable to pass out from lack of oxygen.
Reaching between us, I curled my hand around his cock, Zeph letting out a string of epithets for forcing him over the edge. He withstood only a few strokes before coming, his body shaking beneath mine as he shot stream after stream of cum on his abdomen. I buried myself deep inside him, closed my eyes, and gave in to the torrent of sensation, letting it sweep me away to a magical place as I shuddered out my release. There might have been other men over the years, but no one had come close to Zephyr. No one ever could, or would. It was a frightening epiphany to have, but that didn’t take away from it being the truth.
At some point we’d rolled—probably Zeph’s doing—to leave Zeph on his back, staring up at the ceiling like he expected to see the secrets of the universe written across it, while I was tucked into his side. I picked at the bandage on his right wrist as my breathing slowed, reality filtering back in as lust took a temporary back seat. Although, if history was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be long before it came rushing back. Zeph and I had always been good at sex. It was the rest of the relationship conundrum we hadn’t fared so well with. “I should have waited,” I said.
Zeph turned his head my way to reveal his frown. “For what?”
I lifted his wrist, giving it a slight shake to emphasize my point. “You’re recovering from trauma. It wasn’t the right time to jump on you.”