“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy yourself.”

I glared at the door, wanting to shoot a bullet into Boone for being so vexing when the captain was truly at fault. He should have thought of this earlier.

He was still laughing as I marched over to the bed, got up onto the mattress with my back to him, squirted oil into my hand, and got to work. The laughter behind me died, and a curse replaced it as I stuck two fingers inside myself up to the knuckles.

I craned my neck to see him.

He gaped at my fingers as they worked my hole, his eyes wide, his mouth open, and a look of entrancement on his handsome face. As he should.

I faced forward and redoubled my efforts at revenge for what he had put me through. A strange way to get back at him, I grant you, but effective in wiping all traces of smug amusement from his face.

“Oh my God,” Dinesh whispered.

The next time I looked, he had a fist working his cock and was gazing at my arse like he wanted to bronze the thing.

The only hitch to my plan to drive Captain Martin mad with desire this way was that I’d turned myself into a writhing mess of need. I had been play-acting when we started, but I wasn’t pretending now. My moans and groans were real, and I wished the captain didn’t have a fresh wound that needed healing so he could take me against the cabin wall whilst Boone tried not to fall asleep. In fact, I was frigging myself so skillfully that I almost forgot about the captain until he reminded me he was there and expecting attention.

“Rooster…are you going to…? I need you to… Jesus, get over here…please. How are you so bloody profane and delightful?”

I had a sudden flash of my tombstone:Here lies Simon White. He was profane and delightful, and he died by not getting fucked in the year of 1781. May he rest in peace.

I needed to get a hold of myself. By not getting a hold of myself. And by getting a hold of someone else.

I pulled my fingers out of my arse, though saddened to do so, wiped them on the bedcover, and turned to the captain. He had his prick in hand and looked ready to go over the edge. At least this would be quick.

“Well, if you want me to swallow that thing, you’d best let go,” I said, crawling forward.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Captain Martin muttered, letting go and putting his hands behind his head. His prick bobbed against his belly, a spidery strand of fluid connecting them.

I sighed. “I wish wecouldfuck. I want to climb on top of you.”

“You could do that…” he said with hope in his eyes.

“Perhaps, if the wound wasn’t so high up on your thigh. But I’d only hurt you and delay its healing. Never mind. I’ll just do this…”

I bent and lifted his cock up off his belly, then took his turgid flesh in my mouth with a voraciousness that caught Captain Martin by surprise.

He cried out as I took him to the root.

I circled him with my fingers and hummed a song as I jerked and sucked, jerked and sucked. He uttered a long groan as he dumped a gallon of seed into my gullet.

“Oh…my…god…” he muttered, gazing at the ceiling whilst I cleaned a bit of seed that had leaked from my lips. “You are the damnedest creature, Rooster. And so very fucking talented.”

Now I was the one who looked smug.

“Yes, I know.”

I swallowed and licked my lips, then gazed at the window, where the sun was not visibly lower than when we’d started. “I doubt that was half an hour.”

“No,” the captain said. “But that’s just as well. I do need to rest.”

“Yes.”

“And now that you’ve taken care of that, I think I shall. Thank you very much, Rooster.”

“You’re very welcome, Dinesh.”