by Nix Winter
All Rights Reserved
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Link to chapter one:
A strong hand touched the back of his neck, and he froze, blue eyes wide. Rude fingers combed into his hair, taking a firm hold as his captor pulled him back. "Well, now, what have we here? Mistress Saint Chevalier? Or Mister Saint Chevalier?"
"Unhand me!" Lancelot demanded. The ship lurched throwing him back into his captor.
The man kissed his neck, wet and hot, while keeping a strong hold in Lancelot's hair. He screamed, struggling angrily, until the man's kisses moved up to his ear. In a dark, rum tinted voice, he said, "Still not sure, but you taste delicious, so it hardly matters. I bet your ass is tight either way!"
"Unhand me," Lancelot growled. The hand holding his gown opened and he twisted to strike his captor with the full power of his fury. The gown dropped, leaving him in lacy edged corset, a sheer chemise, and frilly bloomers, with tall white stockings.
The slap left a bright red handprint on the face of his attacker, and a smile. "I fear we must be leaving this ship now, Mister Saint Chevalier." He shifted Lancelot to his shoulder without so much as a struggle.
"Put me down! I demand you listen to me!"
The man leapt to the railing, one hand holding a rope as the ship rocked, another arm over Lance's kicking legs, he laughed. "I have very little choice in that at the moment, my fair laddie. You're screaming in my ear. Arms across your chest, dearie, try to hit heels first."
"What?" Lancelot gasped, clinging now, even as the powerful pirate peeled him off and sent him towards the debris filled dark waters. He screamed all the way down. His sister's words echoed back at him... 'All the way to the bottom.'
When he woke, he lay on a dry soft bedding, dried lace pulling at his thighs as he rolled over. He murmured softly and snuggled down into the pillow. Such strange dreams. Sebastian and pirates! He imagined Sebastian pressing him against a wall, kissing him passionately. He smiled, pressed his face into the pillow, his hips into the bed, which, honestly, felt much thinner than his bed should be. The pillow as well, felt off. It smelled masculine, a little salty, strange, exciting. It wasn't his pillow. His pillow smelled of lavender. He opened one eye, then the other, peering over the fluffy pillow in his arms to the green eyes watching him.
This strange man in his bedroom had dark sandy hair, golden streaks from the sun, sun darkened skin, and intense green eyes. A golden earring hung from one ear. He squatted at eye level, one hand laying over the other, chin on his hands, just watching with this hungry smile on his face.
French accent, a voice deep and seductive as the rhythm of the sea, he licked a rosy lip and leaned forward just a little, "Hello there, Beautiful."
Lance gasped shooting up in bed, the pillow coming with him, covering what he could of the corset he still wore, the letters he could feel indenting his skin. "Who are you and where am I?"
The man stood, tight leather pants covering powerful legs, doing little at all to make polite the size of the man's personal endowments. He wore a clean and flowing white shirt, which, Lance felt fairly sure had been his at one time. So very like a man wearing another man's shirt, this man bowed gracefully, courtly. "I am Viscount Aimé Driant, however, I'd be best pleased by being addressed as Captain Fox. As I have not yet unwrapped my gift, I am slightly unsure if you are Genevieve or Lancelot. You my dear, send mixed signals."
"Hardly," Lancelot said, drawing the covers around himself. "Any idiot would be able to tell that I am Lancelot."
Fox snorted, arms across his chest. "I think you underestimate your beauty, my darling. St. Chevalier did not say how incredibly lovely you were."
Lancelot blinked, bit his lip. "Exactly what are you saying?"
"We need to talk your sister into coming to visit us. You see, she has some of my money, Lanie. I want my money back and until I get it, I'm going to amuse myself with your lovely virtues."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Lance said, legs crossed, pillow held very tightly.
"Now that I might believe, but you see, I cannot be letting her get away with my money." Fox pulled a chair from in front of the table, closer to the bed and sat down. "You are not really to blame for her behavior. I'm going to be really good to you while you're my 'guest'."
Lance swallowed, hoping his sister never fell into the clutches of this man. "Perhaps we could start with some clothes?"
"Oh, but I like what you're wearing, dearie," Fox said, reaching to tug the protective pillow from Lance's arms. "I have a feeling that you want me to take advantage of you. Have you ever had a nice hard cock in that sweet little ass of yours?"
Lance's cheeks flamed brighter than fire and he was sure he'd sink if he were a ship. He'd have liked to have sunk right through the bed, back into the wall, and when his cock did start to harden at the man's rough words, he grabbed up a blanket and pulled that around himself to hid the betraying reaction.
"There is nothing at all wrong with being what you really are," Fox said, smiling victoriously. "There is something wrong with hiding it. I think I shall have to spank you!"
"I am not a child!" Lance squeaked, scooting farther away.
Fox reached under the blanket and grabbed his leg, tugging him back, pulling a long slender leg from under the cover of the obviously stolen velvet blanket. "Look at this leg! I'd say you shaved, but no," he ran a calloused hand up Lance's leg, pausing to hold his knee, fingers pressing the sensitive spot behind his knee for a moment. "You just are very blond. Are you that blond elsewhere, my pet?"
"I am not your pet!"
"Oh, yes you are!" Fox growled, drawing his captive closer. An exploring hand slipped under the bloomers that Lance wore. The next hand grabbed his ass and squeezed. "You want me to want to do wicked things to you!"
Lance lunged off the bed. Fox kept hold of his ankle, so the lunge did not go very far. "Oh no I do not!" Lance growled. "I require you to release me this instant! I shall have nothing to do with you!"
Fox pulled him back, hand over hand, until his strong hands slid under the bloomers that Lance wore. "Imagine, my pet, that you are held captive by pirates and we are going to ravish you. I'm going to slide my cock into your tender little ass, and you will probably scream in outrage, but imagine, how much you could learn and experience while we have you, so that when your Sebastian ransoms you, you will not be the blushing little virgin prig."
"I don't need Sebastian or anyone else to rescue me!" Lance said, determined.
"And what have we here," Fox said, triumphant, as his hand closed around Lance's hard cock. "I do believe it is my guest's hard dick."
Lance struggled, blush turning his cheeks a bright red. Fox held him with one hand, stroking his captive's cock with the other. Lance dug the heels of his hands into the bed, trying to gain some leverage. It did him no good.
Fox shifted, both hands grabbing Lance's legs and flipping him over. Just as quickly he jerked down the bloomers, revealing smooth creamy ass cheeks. He gave one a good smack, leaving a red print. Lance yelped, reaching for the end of the bed to crawl away. Another smack hit his bottom, but he only fought harder.
"You are a dirty pet," Fox said, "I shall have to see that you are cleaned up before I put you to good use."
"I am not the pirate! I am not about to rape an innocent man."
"I am a pirate, but I'm not a liar," Fox said. Bloomers, soft lace, brushed over Lance's thighs, between his legs. Fox rolled him over again and caressed Lance's cock. The strong fingers guided the virgin cock up, making a tent out of the soft fabric still hiding it. A confident thumb slicked through Lance's precum. The slender blond gasped, biting his lip.
"Am I raping you?" Fox asked, voice deep and velvety.
"Yes!" Lance snarled, but his struggles somehow seemed to lift him up into Fox's touch more than away. "I would never consent to sexual relations with you!"
"Is that so?" Fox smirked, letting Lance go for a moment.
Lance pulled the bloomers up over his still stinging ass, up as high as he could get them. "That is so. How can my sister owe you money? You'll be waiting a long time if you expect my father to pay for my return!" A soon as he'd said those words, he wished he hadn't. Hope of ransom might be all that was saving him from experiences he'd not care to imagine. His skin tingled with longing for the rude man's hands. An unfamiliar fire burned in him, eating up the loneliness and shame he'd felt, the quiet of a life that never fit in anywhere. He'd been so quiet, so obedient, in all that he could be obedient in.
Fox peeled his own shirt off, revealing sun goldened torso, lined stomach, smooth skin, except for a silvery scar that ran along his ribs. He ran a hand over his pants, his own cock, which was obviously also hard and not small, not polite in the least. "Tell me that you don't at least imagine having this moving inside you?"
Lance shifted a little, drawing his knees up under him. He ran his hands through his hair, pushing golden disarray back into some semblance of submission. Thoughts clattered, crashed against each other. He might as well have been sinking towards the unknowable depths of the ocean.
"If you touch me again, without my permission, you will make me your mortal enemy."
"What do you think you'll do to me, little boy? Cost me your ransom by dying early?"
"I'll cost you all that you could have gained by being my friend," Lancelot said seriously.
"Can you get me back my money that your sister carelessly stole from my little money launderer?"
Lancelot straightened up, stepped off the bed, drawing the velvet blanket with him. "Who much money did Genni take?"
Fox crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the wall, one booted foot on the edge of the bed. "More than you've got tucked up in your bloomers there. Probably more than you could pay off by leaning over my desk and letting me bang you relentlessly. I need that money back. You do realize that your sister left you to us, don't you? She escaped with her comrades, and left you to us."
He focused for a moment on the velvet of the blanket, wrapping it around himself. "She knew you won't hurt me," he nearly whispered.
"That's very generous of you. If she'd asked you to be her decoy to help her escape, with the probable loss of your life, what would you have said?"
"I would have helped her at all costs," Lancelot said, honestly, chin held high. "I love my sister and her baby."
Fox broke into a laugh, loud and vigorous. He rose, grabbed his shirt, smirking. "You Sir, are a woman like I have never met before. You're very lucky that I want my money more than I want your ass."
"There could be a possibility of having both," Lancelot said softly.
"Ummm," Fox agreed. He opened his closet and pulled out a shirt and pants. "Or do you prefer skirts?"
"If you have them, and you're not throwing me overboard, I would prefer skirts.