Page 65 of Found at Sea
I dreamt of a young man with raven black hair, wearing a patch over his right eye. Men twice his age challenged him, and he stood his ground. They called him wicked, and he would answer with a smirk. But in the solitude of his own room, he wept.
I wanted to comfort him—hold him—but I was only a spectator in the dream, unable to be seen or heard.
The clutches of sleep held me for several hours before I eventually blinked open my eyes again. The moon still hung in the sky, casting a silvery light to the world below, and I stared at the window before looking around the dark room. An ache was behind both of my eyes, and I cringed before feeling a bubbling in my stomach.
When I realized I was going to vomit, I leapt out of bed and ran toward the open window, reaching it just in time as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the sea below.
“Sorry, fish,” I muttered after wiping my mouth.
Needing something to wash the vile taste from my tongue, I wandered into the study and picked up one of the goblets still left on the table from dinner. However, one smell of the wine made my stomach turn again, and I quickly sat it back down. I needed water.
A silver pitcher sat atop a cabinet, and after grabbing it and filling an empty mug to the brim, I took a big gulp. I drank the entire mug of water before quenching my thirst and ridding my mouth of the disgusting aftertaste.
After taking care of another bodily need in the chamber pot, I crawled back into bed.
Kellan rolled over and pulled me against him. I hadn’t noticed I’d been chilled until I felt the warmth of his arms. “Are you all right, boy?”
“Yes.” I pressed my face into the crease of his neck. “But I may not ever drink wine again.”
A low rumble shook his chest. “Fair enough.”
I enjoyed being in his embrace. Maybe a little too much. My heart wanted him. Even after knowing the horrendous acts of his past and even witnessing some of his cruelness with my own eyes, I couldn’t combat the way my heart fluttered in his presence.
My mind warned me that the captain couldn’t be trusted, and yet my heart spoke louder.
“Kellan?” I paused as I debated on how to say the words. “Will you make love to me?”
The hand that’d been smoothing up and down my spine stilled. When several seconds passed and he still hadn’t said anything, my face heated, and I instantly wished I could take back the words.
“Forget I said anything,” I stammered as my embarrassment grew. Rejection was a horrible feeling. I unwound myself from his arms and rolled over.
He yanked me back around to face him, and before I could utter a single word, he kissed me.
I melted against him, both relieved for his kiss and nervous for what awaited next. We’d lain together before, but it’d been a while since it’d happened. I craved the feeling of him inside me, but I feared it as well. Feared because when our bodies joined together, I was at his mercy. Not only physically, but emotionally as well.
His hands roamed my chest and down my stomach as he kissed me.
I adored the scent of him; wine, hints of leather, and one that was all his own. Rosewater and lemon lingered on his skin from when he’d bathed earlier, and I moved from his lips to kiss down his neck, inhaling more of the fragrance.
My head still ached, but having Kellan all over me was a wonderful distraction from the throbbing in my temples. The throbbing traveled to a different part of me, one that ached in other ways and begged for release.
“Do you feel that, boy?” Kellan asked in a rough tone after rolling on top of me. He pushed his hips forward, and I moaned as our arousals touched. “Never doubt my desire for you.”
We kissed again, and as our mouths explored each other, his hand wandered lower. Kellan was patient with me. Tender. He stroked me, bringing me closer to that glorious edge, and right as I was about to lose control, he stopped.
As my body calmed, he found my eager lips once more and kissed me so deeply that my toes curled.
When we finally came together, I winced at the sting of him breaching me. But he went slowly, placing feather light kisses along my cheek and down my jaw. Lavender filled the air, drifting up from the slick oil he’d use to coat his cock before pushing inside me.
My nails dug into his back as he moved farther, and my eyes watered as the sting intensified.
“Keep going,” I reassured him after I’d quietly whimpered at the pain. So much concern clouded his face, and I leaned up to kiss him. “Please don’t stop.”
Kellan nodded before hanging his head, resting it in the crease between my neck and shoulder. Once he was fully buried inside me, he stopped moving and waited.
I took deep breaths and smoothed my hands down to his lower back, holding him in place.
Even through the pain of him stretching me, there was also a kind of euphoria I’d only ever known with him. Being connected with him was indescribable. When he started moving again, most of the pain had subsided, and I whimpered in a different way.
