Page 80 of The Noble's Merman

“I must admit, myself and the others have been holding back our desires from touching our hostage here,” said Young, baring his silver eyes directly on Kent. “So the men have voted on changing our circumstances, and a decision was made.”

That couldn’t spell anything good for Kent, and he braced himself, his stomach twisting in knots.

“We all believe,” Young continued, “if your father truly does want you back, he will still pay the ransom if you are a little battered and bruised, as long as you are brought back alive and in one piece. Therefore, it should not matter what we do to take pleasure with you, as long as you don’t lose any limbs—or your life—right?”

Young’s crooked grin under his gruff black beard sent a knife straight through Kent’s heart.

“No! Oh, please, no!” Kent cried.

“Shore is on the horizon, and we’re anchored close to England. We shall reach her before nightfall,” said Young. “If I do not take my pleasure now, I may never get the chance! I want you while I still have you.”

“No! My God?—”

“I won’t let you!” snapped Allen.

“Hold him back!” Young directed to the two other pirates.

Before Allen could land any punches, he was halted—he was no match for three against one. The two burly henchmen grabbed the redhead’s fists in midair and twisted his arms behind his back, apprehending him and pulling him away to the side of the room. Kent’s gut coiled, as with Allen out of the way, it gave Young full access to him without any cover. All he thought he could do was try to flee, but as he ducked and tried to slither around Young, the pirate captain was too quick—he grabbed Kent’s wrist and pinned it to the wall behind him, up by his head. He left Kent no room to budge as he closed in, snatching his other wrist and pinning it too, pressing his chest flush against Kent’s, his foul breath hot on Kent’s face.

“You’re even prettier up close,” rasped Young, mouth nearly drooling. “And your different-colored eyes are most… enchanting.”

Kent’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. What could he do? What could he say? Even a miniscule movement made Young tighten the grip on his wrists more.

“Your fresh beard is quite becoming of you,” said Young, trailing his dry lips over Kent’s cheek, grazing over the short, thin hairs. “But I quite liked you clean-faced as well. When I first saw you, if it weren’t for your clothes and your low voice, I might’ve thought you were a woman.”

He thrust his knee between Kent’s legs, pushing the breath out of Kent’s lungs. Pressing as close as he could possibly be, Kent could feel his insides shrivel and shrink—this can’t be happening! What was even more disturbing was the bulge Kent felt against his thigh: Young’s hard cock pushing against him relentlessly through his breeches.

“Unhand him!” yelled Allen. Kent could see him attempt to break free from the other pirates’ hold, but their strength was unmatched. All Allen could do was writhe.

“Please, you can’t do this…” Kent cried. His eyes burned with a pressure behind them, his chest tightened, his throat poked by a thorny lump as Young kept kissing his cheek, moving his lips down to his neck.

The pirate captain thrust his hips, grinding and rubbing onto him further, and Kent felt like he was about to gag. “I can do whatever I want with you,” he said into the crook of Kent’s neck. “If you even think of fighting back, I’ll order my men to kill your friend over here.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Don’t underestimate me.” He thrust again. Kent wanted to hurl.

“Where is Seth?” asked Allen with a stern voice.

“Don’t you worry about him, he’s fine.” Kent could feel Young smile against his neck, his beard scratching his skin. “He was in the minority of the voters, and had a tantrum like a child. So, we did what any parent of a rowdy child would do, and tied him up. Surely then, he’ll learn his lesson.”

Kent felt slightly relieved that they hadn’t hurt Seth any further than that, but his heart still sank.

“In fact,” said Young, finally pulling his head away, “I’m getting ahead of myself. I shan’t be too greedy, keeping you all to myself, when my mates want their share of you too. Let us go above deck, and let Seth himself witness what he’s missing out on!”

Young pulled on Kent’s wrists and tugged him forcefully out of the room. Kent heard the footsteps of the other men behind, pushing Allen down the corridor with them. Once at the ladder, the captain threw his arm under Kent’s rear and hauled him over his shoulder, carrying him onto the upper deck; Allen followed closely as the two pirates shimmied him up, holding him steady as he climbed with his feet and keeping his arms behind his back to prevent him from punching.

The crisp morning air should’ve been refreshing, yet it was anything but. Blue skies with few clouds hailed above them, sunlight on the vessel making the mast stand out clear. The pirate crew appeared to be anxiously waiting for his arrival as many of them were standing around, watching as Young placed Kent down. But Kent still didn’t have any autonomy; the captain once again grabbed his wrists and held them both in one large hand in front of him.

Kent had to turn his head to see past his blind spot to find Seth—there he was, tied up just like Young had said, wrists and feet bound so all he could do was squirm, sitting on the wooden floor of the deck. Not only that: what appeared to be a white cravat was tied around his head and stuffed in his mouth.

“Had to gag him,” said Young to Kent. “I knew he wouldn’t shut up otherwise.”

Allen was shoved next to Seth by his two captors, each pirate holding one of the redhead’s arms behind his back. “Shall we do the same to him?” asked one of the pirates.

“Yes, if you could,” responded Young. “But he doesn’t need to be gagged.”

With the help of one more crewman, the pirates held Allen still, grabbing some loose rope that was on a crate nearby, and bound Allen’s wrists.

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