I'm willing to regret you for the rest of my life @georgiapeach30513 - Tumblr Blog

The Blood On My Hands, Part 4

Summary: Steve makes good with his promise. He will own you.

Pairings: Pirate!Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, collar, leash, public displays of teasing, exposing reader in front of people, retelling of being exposed to an audience, retelling about getting caught during a sexual experience, talks about selling off daughters for marriage, PIV sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cleaning reader, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.9K

You take too long to wake up. It is astounding how comfortable you have become on this ship. In his bed. Not even stirring when he got out of the bed. Maybe you should have. You shouldn’t allow yourself to be such a heavy sleeper. Not when he’s around.

He picks at his teeth as he watches you slumber. If he didn’t know any better he would think that you’re at peace. Just where you belong.

In a sheer nightgown, leaning towards his side of the bed, and your slowly healing brand on your inner wrist on display. Beautiful. Branding you wasn’t quite enough for him, especially since you don’t know how to survive on a ship without falling into the open seas. It would never do, and he can’t possibly protect you, definitely didn’t want to keep you locked in here.

How will he ever convince people that you belong to him? He gives the rope a little wiggle, and your precious self barely moves. You’re already getting used to his solution to keeping you right with him. After diving into the sea to save your life, he had to remind his crew and himself that you’re nothing more than just property. Merely a cute puppet. You’ll soon figure it out. Once you get your ass out of bed.

You are such a pretty thing when you sleep. That gown remained unbuttoned, and your right tit is spilling out. It isn’t near enough, barely half a nipple poking through, but it’s enough to have his cock at half mast. You shouldn’t be a distraction. If you would just shut up and let him fuck you the way he needs to. It’d do you some good as well.

A pretty cocksleeve, and nothing more.

His booted foot starts tapping on the bedframe. Bored from your lack of a pissy attitude. And he knows when you awake you’re going to get that adorable scowl on your face. Not realizing that nothing you could say or do will make him torture you any less. Because you are his to do whatever he wants to with.

Soon not only will you understand that, but you’ll also crave all the ways that he can and will deliciously own you.

“Can you stop making that annoying noise?” You don’t even bother opening your eyes. You don’t want to see his face. You just want that tapping to stop. “Steve.”

“Yes, Siren?”

“Stop.”

“No,” you turn to the other side, and immediately fire burns in your belly, and you spring up from the bed. Glaring at the collar and rope around your neck. A rope that leads right to his hand. “Good morning.”

“You fucking bastard! Get this damn thing off my neck immediately!”

“Keep screaming, it’s making me hard. But make sure you’re wet, so I can fuck you properly.”

“Keep your cock away from me unless you’re taking this off me!”

“If I remove your collar can I fuck you without you screaming? Well, unless it’s screams of pleasure.”

“Ugh!! You are an asshole!” The cocky son of bitch just shrugs, and continues to smile at you. “Take. It. Off.”

“No, it’s time for you to get out of bed, and get dressed. You’ll be accompanying me today,” to emphasize his meaning he tugs at the leash. He clicks his tongue, “Come on, be a good girl, and get dressed.”

“No,” while glaring at him, you notice his eyes drift down your front, and you are horrified to see the sheer, too large gown has fallen off your shoulder and your entire breast is out. “You pig.”

“You’re the one showing me. I’d personally prefer you completely naked. Do you know in your sleep you grind your cunt on my thigh.”

“Do. Not.”

“If you say so. Let’s go. Let’s get you dressed,” you can continue to fight him, and you know there is nowhere to go. Your choices are to survive or die. And if he’s going to make things uncomfortable for you, you’ll make things just as uncomfortable for him.

The only thing you have is your body and mind. Standing up out of bed, you look directly at him, and pull off the gown, letting it fall to the floor in a heap while you stand there completely naked. “What dress shall I wear today, Captain.”

His jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth. “Captain? I need you to tell me what I’m to wear today, just for your liking. Please, Captain, won’t you help me?”

“Keep calling me that while you’re naked, and I’ll have you on all fours.”

“Shall I go out on deck dressed like this?” His tongue runs over teeth as he stands. Steve reaches to the corner of the bed, and tosses a new dress towards you. Seeing how he’s been gawking at your tits, you turn around.

“What are you doing?” You peek over your shoulder, holding open the dress, and bend over to step into it. He grunts at the sight of you. The globes of your ass need his fingerprints bruised on them.

Giving him a smirk that he doesn’t notice, you pull up the sleeves, “Steve?” His eyes suddenly flick to yours. You’re the worst kind of trouble. Looking all coy and innocent when he just saw the tiniest bit of your cunt. “Can you lace me up?”

He hesitates before taking the few steps behind you. Grabbing each lace of the dress, he tugs harshly. Grunting with every pull of your laces. Good. You are frustrating him just as much as he is you. Steve finishes, and presses his body flush against yours. He places a hand on your lower stomach, adding pressure to push you into him more.

You let out a whimper when the hard ridge of his thick cock tickles at your backside. “This is your one chance.”

“To what,” his nose guides a trail up your neck, stopping just behind your ear, and he lets out a low and slow breath. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling. And your body lets out a mewling moan without your consent. You should not be reacting to this asshole.

“Your one chance to get me this goddamn hard, and I don’t put my throbbing cock, into your soaking cunt.”

“Not soaked,” his hands circle your tits, and he kneads into the soft skin, “Steve.”

His hands drift lower, roaming over your belly until he cups your core. Too bad this isn’t in polite society and you have several layers of skirts. This dress is only the one layer, and he feels everything. His breathing picks up, and he starts grinding into your body. His hot breath fans over your sticky skin, “Not soaked, huh? Why is this delicious cunt so hot?”

“Steve,” you are weak. As much as you claim to hate him, whatever it is that he does to your body, you truly can’t hate him. And that thought makes you hate him even more. Sure, he might be mildly better than Pierce, but he isn’t James. There is no love involved. This is purely lust and trying to survive him.

“Not soaked? Surprised you can say that with a straight face, and all while you have the most I need to be fucked voice.”

“Why do you want me so much?”

“I don’t need a reason,” he sighs before pushing you away. “If you’re not soaked, why do you have a wet spot stained on your dress?”

You look down your front. Of course his roaming hands would have caused a mess for you. “Why are you breathing so deeply?”

“You’re a tease,” you declare. Not just a tease, he got you all hot and bothered, and then took away his ministrations. Rude. He knows exactly what you’re doing, and you don’t even know what move is coming next.

“You feel all that frustration because you’re wound so tight, and have all this pent up sexual need. Don’t worry. Come come,” he says pulling at your leash. “Let’s let everyone see what a sweet pet you are.”

Ass.

It’s not just enough that he has you parading around the ship while everyone on the crew gawks at you, but he makes sure to keep getting too close to you (by high society standards). Steve constantly pulls your leash into his body, and lets his hand roam over your curves. He ticks his calloused fingers slowly on your ribs, before tracing every inch of your skin regardless of who could be watching.

It is as if he just can’t get enough of your body. That the softness of you is making him focus more. He doesn’t break concentration on what he’s doing, it’s absentminded, and drives you insane. You just want him to look at you as he does this. Make you feel less like an object, and something that he truly desires.

How does he have a conversation with someone while pawing at you? It’s like he is barely even thinking about what his hands are doing. But you don’t like being discarded. Bucky might have made love to you in an alley, but his attention was purely on you. With Steve, his eyes don’t even look at you. It’s just his damn hands. Kneading and groping.

You don’t miss the chuckles and looks as sailors walk past. They know you’re nothing more than a toy to him. You’re not even human or worthy of conversation. You’re just a damn wet rag.

You stew in your anger as he converses with Sam. Pointing out into the distance, and mentioning some pirates’ council. Please. As if these foolish foul men could handle a council. You blow out an angry breath, and cross your arms over your chest. Nothing. Not even a glance. His stupid hand just holds to your leash. His dirty finger rubs over the frayed edges of the rope. The same methodical fingers that recently circled your clit.

You stomp your foot, and face away from him. Nasty ass man. He’s no more than a creature, and should have let you drown. It’s not as if there aren’t whores on this ship for his entertainment.

You’re not turned away from him for five seconds before Steve yanks on the leash, and pulls you completely into his front. His other hand wraps around your waist, and you’re appalled at the whimper that escapes your lips. You don’t want him or his attention. It’s purely survival. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

Finally, attention. “How am I teasing you?”

He dips his head to the shell of your ear, “Do you think it’s easy to do my job, knowing I can’t touch you? Claim you?”

“Are you wanting to claim me in front of your crew?” Looking down, his hand has snaked its way up your stomach, and cups your right breast. He gives the heaving sphere a squeeze before he tugs down your dress. Your chest bulges out of the tightened dress. “Is that what you want? For them to see you being taken right here? Offer your sounds of pleasure to the sea god?”

He eases the material down, exposing your full chest, and you glimpse to the crew. Only a few watch with curiosity. Sam rolls his eyes, and walks away. Steve pinches the pebbled peak. Pulling it outward, and you turn into his neck. Breathing too hard to ever disguise the fact you semi enjoy this. “Is that why you allowed him to fuck your virgin cunt where anyone could see? Do you like knowing people watch this perfect body?”

“No. No, I…” your words drown off as he inhales your scent. His mouth makes trails of heated kisses down your neck. “I…I don’t. I just,” you couldn’t form a coherent thought even if you wanted to. He kicks at your foot, pushing your legs apart, and jerks you towards a thickened sinewed thigh. “Steve.”

“They’ll enjoy watching you. Knowing that you’re getting off, and can’t even see much. They’re waiting to hear the sounds that you make. Are you a screamer?” You shake your head no, and bite on your lip. Why does his thigh feel so good? And why aren't you mortified that people could watch? They could see your breast in his hand. See the way his deft fingers are pinching, pulling, rolling your swollen nipple, and all while you’re rubbing your cunt on his leg.

“I bet you don’t even know the beautiful sounds you could make. And are making right now. You’ve had to be quiet. Did Bucky’s hand hold your mouth, muffling your screams? I couldn’t do that. I want you to openly enjoy yourself. No matter who's watching,” you mewl, arching your back as you lean into him.

“See. You want to be my little slut,” no, you don’t. “You can’t even deny it anymore. Look how you’re performing for me,” you won’t admit that you’re doing anything for him. This is for you. And for survival. You have to remember that. Have to keep in mind that you will do whatever you have to, to break free from him.

“You’re soaking my fucking leg,” you might be. “Even you can’t deny the mess that’s between these beautiful thighs. And I know just what your honey tastes like,” you tilt your head back to heaven, moaning out in pleasure, and not even caring anymore. He’s the one continuing this motion.

“I’m not even holding your hip anymore,” sure he is. There’s no way that you would rub yourself on his leg. “And I’m not waiting anymore. Tonight, I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life. I want to see you ruined at the council,” those words make the damn break, and you shutter. Slowing down your movements, and let your body lean forward on the railing.

“Have I made myself clear, Siren?”

“You can ruin me, but you’ll never have me fully.”

“Keep threatening me, and I’ll fuck a baby in your belly,” he leans over your heaving body. “You won’t be able to go back into society with a bastard will you. And if that sea urchin, Bucky, survives, he’ll never want a used up woman and a mistake to raise,” you won’t cry in front of him. You won’t let him see how much those vile words affect you.

“Natasha,” the woman on his crew perks up an eyebrow as he measures you. “Take her below deck. See to it that she’s cleaned, and changed. I’ll have her on my lap for dinner tonight,” he disregards your leash to her, and you are horrified at the stain on his leg.

“You sure know how to rile that bastard up. Don’t know what you did, but Siren, keep doing it,” you have no idea what she’s talking about. “He’s never been more out of control.”

“He says he’s going to fuck me tonight,” you deadpan. There’s no emotions left in you.

“Let him,” like you have a choice. “Enjoy it because what he wants he will have. But make his cock crave you. Captain Hydra can have whatever cunny he wants. He’s not even had yours, and you’ve made him feral for it. Use that to your advantage. Don’t change what you’re doing.”

“I’m just trying to survive.”

“You are. He was willing to throw his life away to save yours from the ocean,” you gulp as you let that notion sink in. He did jump in after you. He did pull you from your watery grave. He breathed life back into your bones. “He’s harsh. But he normally doesn’t show off his prizes like that.”

“He thinks it’s something I enjoyed.”

“We all heard you,” you blink away embarrassed tears. “You did.”

“I…I’ve only been with one man.”

“And you rubbed your cunt on another. Let that same man drink from you. You'll be fine. Only older men like when a woman is pure, and only has had their cock. And those are the men that think they won’t hold up to another. And they’re right. Don’t stress about it. No one says you have to marry the Captain,” and yet you fear that is what he will eventually want. To own you. To claim you. To have you. And to devour you.

There’s something unsettling about knowing when a man wants to ravish you, and you — you don’t know what you want. Steve isn’t unattractive. Under normal circumstances, you might call him handsome. Apart from the fact that he burned your skin while you slept, and has kept you on a leash all damn day.

Is unsettling even the word that truly encapsulates the way you feel? Because overwhelmed and confused are words that come to mind as well. Especially since he tied your leash to the post of the bed, and that was after he helped you in the sheer oversized nightgown. Modesty went out the window because he’s seen you. He’s tasted you. And now you’re left cowered up at the head of the bed, watching him wash off the grim of the day.

You didn’t know that pirate ships could be as refined as this one. He has his sleeping quarters, and all the amenities that you could think of having here. Privacy, mirrors, a comfortable bed. He notices the mirror just as much as you do. His piercing blue eyes continue to gaze at you through it. Even with his back on you, he can’t stop looking at you.

“Tell me about your home life, Siren,” he never asks you anything. It’s always a command.

“I lived inside the palace walls,” Steve sighs. “And I was to marry Pierce. You know this.”

“I meant before. You didn’t always live inside the wall.”

“No,” you shake your head, smiling. You have fond memories before the palace. “I always dreamed of living in the city,” his brow cocks up. “No girl wants to be a lowly farm girl.”

“There wasn’t some farmhand that you had your eyes on?” You regard him in such an odd way. It’s complicated. It was lonely there. And you sought friendship with whoever was willing.

“There once was a boy.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Why do you care?” The boy, you realize, is someone that you hold very dear to you. You wouldn’t call it love exactly. But you had the ability to explore things. And you had someone to talk to that wasn’t a goat.

He chuckles, and turns around to stare at you. He leans back onto the chest of drawers, and actually stares at your eyes, “I’m getting you comfortable before I fuck you, and ruin you for other men,” you should have known it wasn’t that serious. “Was Bucky the first man you fucked?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a liar.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Women always lie. There’s always some poor boy that was lower than you that you experiment on,” crossing your arms over your chest, you turn and look away from him. “Any hole that a man’s cock resides in removes your maidenhead.”

You don’t want to look at him. Wiping away a tear from your cheek, you sniffle. “There’s no reason to cry, Siren. Most women experiment with a cock in their mouth. Or in their hands. Playing with it just to watch it grow larger. And what’s a poor boy to do? You think some strapping young lad wants them to stop? Having a dainty hand around you is one of the best feelings in the world. Apart from your cunt.”

“You’re such an ass. You’re making something pure and innocent, disgusting. I meant more to him than being warm flesh.”

“Did you love him?” You shrug. It’s complicated. “Did you use him?”

“No!” You face him, and he thinks you might actually be showing some emotion. “I didn’t — didn’t mean to. I just knew that my father said I would be shipped off to marry some rich man. And my mother told me rich men are always old. Do you think that I wanted to lay with a disgusting old man just after my first bleed? How is that even fair? A man that has gone through countless women. Do you think that he would be gentle?”

“Did Pierce ever…?”

“No,” you answer too quickly, and kindness flashes in his eyes. “It wasn’t like that.”

“What was it like?”

“Like you care.”

“What did he do?” His eyes turn dark, and he glares at you.

“He made me stand in a room full of his colleagues. I was wearing a brand new dress that he had commissioned. He asked me to turn around for them, and they all congratulated him on what a fine prize he had, and that I was sure to give him sons,” Steve looks away from you. You have tried countless times to push away that afternoon. It was just after tea. And what a lovely tea it had been. You enjoyed it, and knew you were going to enjoy your life there.

“And then he came up behind me, just to show his size difference. He wrapped his arm around me, and grabbed my chin. I was scared. His grip was too tight, and he had to make note of how much my chest was heaving. They all laughed, and I heard one of them mention how much fuller my tits would be when I was swollen with him. He asked them if they wanted to see what they looked like now. It was like offering meat up to a pack of wild dogs. They were licking their lips, and leaning forward while he cut off my beautiful dress.

“He covered my mouth with his hand, so you couldn’t hear me scream, and he didn’t stop until I was standing there naked. Then he started pinching me, and saying I had the perfect body to carry a son for him. It was humiliating,” recalling that day is so weird. You try not to have emotions because if you did, you’d end up a crying mess. So instead, you disassociate.

“They were supposed to be dignified, and all of them were begging to see my pussy, just to make sure I was a virgin. That was the one thing he didn’t want to show them. He did spin me around and spank my bottom. Jiggled me in front of them. And then shoved me into another room where a lesser dress was waiting. He had it planned. Showing me off like cattle at an auction.”

A heavy silence falls over the room. All but your sniffles. “You haven’t asked me why I didn’t mind you doing that to me today.”

Steve’s eyes look at the floor, and you exhale slowly, “I didn’t expect you to be anything, but cruel.”

“How does Bucky fit in the picture?” He was your safety there. Even that is simplifying things too much. He was an escape. A friend. He was everything.

“He came in the room just as I had put on the dress,” he was going to light a fire for them. He saw me crying, and asked what happened. I just walked out of the room, so he saw me. He lit their fire and saw the rags from the dress, and mumbled how they were all piglet bastards,” you chuckle without any humor. None of that is funny.

“Pierce had him publicly wiped, he was never going to be more than a poor man begging for scraps because of Pierce. Later James told me what had happened in a way to make me comfortable about my situation. Then things started off small, running into each other constantly, until I saw him alone and asked him to do me a favor.”

“What was the favor?” Steve asks eagerly.

“Fuck me like he loved me, so that way I could feel what it felt like for once. I knew eventually Pierce would have me killed. I also didn’t want him to have that part of me. I didn’t get a chance when I still lived on the farm to…never mind.”

“What did you do?”

“Without being too crass, I sucked the farmhand’s dick, and he rubbed his cock between my thighs. My father — he heard us, and threw him out, had me shipped to the palace. Got smacked real good for almost giving away the high price on my maidenhead. That it was the only thing I could ever amount to, and I almost wasted it. I wish I had got to feel him, but at least Bucky let the first time be my choice.”

“Would you still have wanted Bucky?” Such an odd question with an easy answer.

“Yes. I want it all. The ability to choose. Remove the shackles of my womb having a monetary amount for rich men. Fathers selling daughters. Old men fucking girls that are barely women. It’s cruel to not get to choose who you spend the rest of your life with. Shouldn’t love be an option between both people? Or is there always a need to have someone below you just so you can feel powerful when you have no power? When there’s men that are poor that can out perform you any day? It’s all a game to them. All to make sure people are beneath them.”

“And what about me?”

You lick your lips, and pull the nightgown past your shoulders. In the midst of all of this, you had an epiphany, “You have power,” he nods. “And yet you haven’t ever taken mine away,” he tilts his head confused. “You’ve given me choices. You’re cruel and pigheaded, and cross boundaries, but still you haven’t fucked me without my permission.”

You pull at the other side of your nightgown. This would be so much easier if you could stand and take it off, but thanks to the rope and collar around your neck, you shimmy out of it. “I’m giving you permission to fuck me. Captain.”

“Do you understand what you’re saying?”

“Would it matter?” He shrugs. “Or would you make me watch you take another woman just so you didn’t take from me?” He shrugs again.

“I meant after this,” his brow lifts while he examines your body, “Do you understand what you’re giving me?”

“I’m your whore?” he nods. “And I give you permission to have me anytime? And anywhere?” He nods again, and you fall silent. You have to survive. You won’t have a watery grave. And when you survive Steve, you’ll be free. Free to live the life you want. Free of any man that you don’t want in your doorway.

Steve kicks off his boots. Unlacing his pants, he jerks them apart before leaving them to fall in a heap. And then he removes his shirt, and you gawk at his naked form. So many hard lines have been created from the strenuous work of being on a ship. Scars, both fresh and old, decorate his impeccable body. The mark of a thief that had been sliced into his flesh. You’ll ask him about that after you soften him up.

His cock stands at attention and bobs as he takes slow, calculated steps towards the bed. “I give you permission. All of it. I’m yours whenever you want me. However you want me. Take it,” your voice falls on a whisper as his knees hit the bed. “I’m your whore.”

“You’re no whore,” he says as he spreads your legs further apart. He crawls up your body, and leans forward. Letting his cock, shiny with precum rest just between your slit. He rocks his hips upwards, allowing your juices to coat him. He moans, and he hasn’t even entered you.

“But you are mine,” he says, pulling himself just far enough down to push into your walls. “And you’ll take everything I give you,” he juts himself forward, and your back arches off the bed. Head falling back, eyes closed, and mouth open in a silent scream. Looking almost possessed from the harsh angle of your back.

“If only Pierce could see what a beautiful cock ornament you look like now. He’ll never get to feel this,” he pulls himself out slowly. “He’ll never get to know this,” his hips snap, and he crashes into you again. Just like before, his exit is excruciatingly gentle. “Never get to fill this up,” the thrust into you has your eyes going crossed.

“You’re mine,” his whisper is right in your ear, and that is all it takes to have him stabbing into you so ferociously that you can’t even think straight. You can’t comprehend where you are or where he is. It just is. “And nobody will ever touch you again. Will they?”

“No. No! Steve, just…”

“I know what you want,” his hips slam into your body over and over again. The slapping of sticky skin on sticky skin bounds off the walls, and mixes with the whines of pleasure. “Be as loud as you want, Siren. Let them know you’re getting fucked. You won’t have any punishment.”

You wail out his name. Letting the man own you in a way that you could never have allowed James to own you. It’s cruel. You loved — love James. You saw a future with him. Have never felt that way about a man ever before. Never thought that love was going to be in your future. Marriage is nothing but a contract. A formal agreement between a man and a father. Literally buying someone’s daughter as their play thing so each can gain.

It’s all that it ever is. Even though you have a collar and a leash, you feel less shackled and bound with Steve than you did with societal norms. There’s a fear inside the normal upstanding way of living. A fear that a man could kill you for his shortgivings. That a man quite literally owns you and can do with you what he desires, and you have to get with the program.

You’d lived inside the palace walls enough to know that the women did not make the animalistic sounds with their husbands that you are with Steve. The way that his body consumes you is the most hellish way. It’s pure sin. There’s nothing more between you than vulgar yet powerful energy.

There could never be anything more than the basic human need of connection between you and Steve. You acknowledge that, and you bury yourself away in it. There is no amount of pillaging your body that could turn this into more than lust. And that is okay. He is a pirate. Destroying things is what he does. Fucking, treasure, and living in filth.

Beautiful, intoxicating, scream worthy filth.

Steve doesn’t stop even when your body is spent and pliable. He twists you around, and alhough you fall to your belly, he fucks into you with so much vigor that you’re a drooling fool. He can take his fill. You can handle him. Let him trust you. Get comfortable with you. Desire you. And eventually he will need your body to spill into. It’s a dirty tactic of actually being free, but at least there’s a course to set sail to.

There is an eventual liberty on the horizon, and if you have to suffer at the hands of his pleasure, then so you shall.

Something is so satisfying about a man that has no fear of grunting and moaning his pleasure. You’d almost think that Steve is more animal than man with the sounds that he howls into the bedroom. His heated and rushed breaths puffing out as if he’s counting how many times he’s thrusting into your body. He almost sounds tortured.

A fear that he dare not succumb to his own pleasure because then he’d have to pull himself out of you. Let him tire from your quivering walls. Let him know what it’s like to desire nothing more than the feeling of your wet heat. You will then own him. “I’ve been dying to get inside of you since the very first moment we met.”

“Mmm,” is the only intelligible reply you can muster. You’ll be sore, and stumble around on the ship tomorrow. But you don’t have to hide.

“You’re going to be absolutely sick of me,” his voice is shattered. You don’t have a ton of experience in life, but you have always wanted to see a man weak from your body. And you will. One day, you will be the only thing that Steve can ever think about.

The weight of him — oh, there’s worse ways to be held captive. Worse ways to feel, and at least this way you have fulfillment. You’re not laying on your back while Pierce pumps into you twice before dumping his load, and then crawling off to his bed with his whores, while you have to let his seed sprout. No. You won’t ever have to do that again. You’re ruined.

“Fuck,” he pants out. His hips slamming into you with so much force, you know you’ll bruise. “Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!!!” His warmth shoots so deep into you that you sigh in relief at the feeling, and he scrambles off you quickly.

His softening cocks bobs with every step he takes as he reaches into the basin. He reaches for a damp cloth before walking back to you. Gently Steve spreads your thighs before thoroughly cleaning himself out of you. “What are you doing?”

The way he looks at your swollen pussy gives you pause. It’s not feral, it’s awe. “I was told never to spill in a whore.”

“I’m no whore,” it’s what he said. You weren’t a whore, just his.

“Mmm,” he sighs. Your whimper catches him by surprise. “Thought I had you stretched out enough from my cock, I didn't think a couple fingers would give that reaction.”

“Did you not think my cunt could be sore?”

He nods before leaning back to gaze at your body. Sweaty, naked, and spent. Just the way he likes you. “While you’re not a whore, a ship is nowhere for a baby.”

“Maybe it’s the pirate that isn’t fit for a baby,” you challenge.

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t reduce you to becoming a vessel for my spawn. Have you screaming on this ship as you birth my child. Child birthing can be deadly. You don’t deserve that.”

“Why are you being kind?”

“I am?” He gives a shrug before tossing the rag into the floor, and collapsing on the bed beside you. “Let it be our secret then. And maybe eventually, I won’t release myself before I’m ready. I’m no longer a boy hoping to fuck someone in a barn.”

“Hoping?”

“One’s first sexual experience usually results in coming before one is ready,” so he wasn’t ready to spill. Which means he’ll be ready soon to fuck you again.

“Does everyone have that same experience?” Steve softly smiles at you before using his fingers to close your eyes.

“The only thing you should be worrying about is sleep. I’ll be waking you up in the middle of the night.”

“Just make sure I’m ready. It’s all I ask.” It’s a simple request. You’re not denying him. Just entry if you’re not ready for him to split you open.

“You have my word, Siren. I’ll never fuck you unless you’re properly wet.”

“So romantic.”

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