Page 48 of A Flash of Golden Fire

“Didn’t know how much, until him,” I admitted, reaching for the bottle that Martinéz was holding. “He’s got a wonderful way of making me wait.”

“You behaving yourself?” Lahiri asked.

I pretended to be shocked. “I’ll have you know, I’m a perfect angel with the captain.”

Martinéz threw back his head and howled as Darcy started up with his fiddle again, playing a lively Irish jig that got a few men up to dance.

I glanced over to see the captain sitting on the boards, leaning against the rail beside Donatello with his legs stretched out. Donatello was speaking and Captain Martin nodded, then tipped the bottle to his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank, then he met my gaze and smiled as he lowered the drink.

I could not explain how that simple gesture affected me. I immediately wanted to go to him, so I made excuses to my friends and made my way back.

“Hullo again, Captain,” I said, planting my feet apart on the deck in front of them.

“Hullo again, White,” he said, offering me the bottle. “Sit a spell with us.”

I took the offered jug and tipped it up, gulping a burning draft of whiskey into my gullet. I gave the container back and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

We stared at each other, and I swear to the Holy Mother that I wanted him to bend me over the side of the ship and fuck me in front of everyone. I hoped he had the same idea, but he kept quiet and simply delivered his lustful thoughts into my brain.

I took a deep breath. Everyone knew about us. They knew the captain was a sodomite and that I warmed his bed. I warred with myself for about two seconds before I stepped forward, a foot on either side of his outstretched legs. I sank so that I was astride them, my arse perched on his strong thighs.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

I cupped his chin in my palm and leaned forward, touching his familiar lips with mine in the gentlest of kisses. When I pulled back, his eyes shone with happiness and surprise.

I started to get up, but Captain Martin’s fingers wrapped around my wrist, and he tugged me forward so I fell against him. He wrapped an arm around me and took another swig of whiskey. I settled against him, content to be coddled by the man who’d cruelly tanned my hide and filled me with seed only an hour before. If this was pirate life, then sign me the fuck up.

There was audible laughter and muttering from some of the others, but nobody made a fuss. If we’d done this in the middle of the Penny Whistle, the establishment where we’d first encountered each other, I’m almost certain that the law would have been called. At the very least, we would have been tossed out into the street. But here, in the middle of the ocean, on Captain Martin’s ship, we were safe to indulge our feelings for each other.

The softda-dump,da-dumpof the captain’s heart under my ear, and the jolly sounds of the fiddle and the stomping of boots soothed my restless mind. The captain shared his drink, feeding me like I was a babe in arms, and I thrilled to the gesture. I’d surely never felt so fucking safe and cared for in my life. I knew that Captain Martin was fearless and relentless in battle, and that he’d been responsible for the deaths of many a merchant seaman, and possibly several British Naval Officers as well. But he’d been nothing but kind to me, even whilst treating me like his personal whore. He’d never done anything cruel or vicious to me, and I truly had earned that spanking.

Going over the captain’s fine lap and getting a hiding was nothing, compared to the actual cruelty I’d suffered at the hands of so many, in my short life. What we did together in that cabin was different, so different, and I’d fight anyone who denied it.

After a spell of blissful snuggling, I shifted to sit at the captain’s side, and we drank and talked and joked with Donatello. Donatello and Captain Martin traded jibes and insults like very old mates often did, and I almost pissed my breeches a few times. Instead, I did like everyone else and pissed over the side, as the sun went down and darkness fell. Lamps were lit, and the merry-making continued into the wee hours. The sight of a deck full of drunken pirates singing songs and having fun, struck me as a delightful, wondrous spectacle to fall asleep to, leaning on Captain Martin’s shoulder in the tranquil tropical night.

Chapter Seven

Catastrophe

Iwoke with the intense urge to piss. Too much rum and whiskey had filled my bladder and made my head ache and my stomach unsettled. And perhaps I was still drunk.

At some point, I must have fallen over because I was lying flat out on the deck. I pushed myself up and looked around. The captain and Donatello had fallen asleep together, with the quartermaster sprawled over the captain’s legs, and the captain lolling against the rail, where he’d been most of the night. One of them was snoring—likely my captain.

The other men on deck were spread about, sleeping wherever they’d landed. Groups of them were piled up like a litter of puppies, and others had found space for themselves. It had been a joyful, happy evening, and I hadn’t had many.

I sighed and stood, my head throbbing as the boat swayed beneath my feet. Or perhaps the deck was steady, and my addled brain made me think the ship was moving. The silence of the ocean at night stretched out from the bow and the moonlight made a pretty design on the surface. I turned and moved to the railing behind me, still entertaining visions of the festivities, so I waited until releasing a good stream of piss over the water to look up.

A great ship loomed on the horizon, heading in our direction. She was several leagues away by my estimate, but still too close. I almost choked on my tongue as I finished pissing and tucked myself into my breeches. I stumbled toward the captain.

“Captain Martin! Dinesh! Wake up, for fuck’s sake. A ship, there’s a ship, right here. Wake up! Wake up!”

“Hmm. Rooster…” he groaned. “For fuck’s sake, let me sleep. I’ll tup you later…”

“We’ll all be dead by then. There’s a ship! There’s a ship, and it’s gaining ground!” I raised my voice and let some of my terror come through.

His eyes went wide, and he scrambled up, peering over the railing.

“Fucking Christ,” he cursed. “Where did she come from?”

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