She knew she should make him stop, but she couldn’t seem to make herself move. Just breathing had become an effort.
Gently, the fingers of one hand slipped beneath her panties. She tried drawing her legs together. Before she got far, his knees came up between hers, and his legs levered hers apart with a gentleness that belied the firmness of his touch. She found herself draped across him, butt in his lap, legs sprawled across his, and she knew in that instant that no matter what he did to her, she wouldn’t try to stop him. It simply felt too good.
She shivered when his fingers grazed against her clit. He knew how to touch her, knew how sensitive the little nub was. So sensitive that it was almost painful at times, but his hands were soft. Back and forth, squeezing and working, his fingers slipped across her clit, their way eased by the flood of moisture seeping out of her. When his hand dropped lower, his fingers slid into her opening with a gentleness that was almost embarrassing. So much for her earlier protests. At that moment she didn’t care who might see them, all she wanted was to make sure he kept touching her.
Then he pulled his hand away, and she gave a little whimper of protest.
“Wait,” he whispered in her ear, and then he wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her body ever so slightly. His hand dipped down behind her. Then it came back around and he pushed her legs together a bit, pulling her shorts down from behind. When they were around her upper thighs, he brought her back over his lap.
“Just hold still,” he said, and she could feel the hot length of his cock against her ass. He lifted her body, and to her surprise, his cock slid neatly into her vagina.
He was big, and he’d always filled her completely, but this time was different. Perhaps it was the strange position, or the fact that her legs were nearly closed, but he seemed to be larger somehow. She could feel every delicious inch of him coming into her, a slow slide from behind that almost made her gasp several times. His hands came around front again, and this time he reached up inside her shirt to work her nipples. She hadn’t worn a bra, leaving her breasts completely exposed to his touch. His fingers sought out the stiff little peaks, massaging and pulling on them as he slid into her waiting body with slow determination. She tried to move, tried to wiggle her hips, but he clamped down on her, pinning her to his body with his hands.
“You do what I tell you,” he said softly. “I’m in control here.”
She nodded her head, a secret thrill running through her. After long seconds of slowly sinking, she reached bottom. She felt his belly against her ass, and unable to control herself, she squeezed him once with her internal muscles. His hips bucked up involuntarily, and he gave a muffled groan.
Not completely in control, she thought wickedly.
He head still lolled back against his shoulder, arms at her sides and her breasts being worked by his hands. He cocked his hips a bit, and then whispered, “Touch me.”
She nodded her head, knowing instinctively what he was asking. She flexed herself within, and felt an answering twitch from him. One of his hands left her breasts and drifted down, fingers diving between her legs to the tiny nubbin of her clit. As he plucked at it, and then rubbed her firmly, she arched her back and gasped. Inside she clenched him once more, wringing a moan of satisfaction from him.
“That’s what I want.”
She nodded her head against him, and squeezed him again. She supposed she should try and do some kind of steady rhythm, but that seemed impossible. There was a tension within her, spiraling out with every tantalizing rub of his fingers, and she could only respond by clutching him tighter. Every few seconds she forced herself to release, concerned she might be hurting him, but he never said a word.
Instead his fingers worked her, rubbing in small circles while pushing with just enough pressure to drive her mad.
Tiny twinges built in her body, and suddenly she was filled with a sense of terrible energy. She couldn’t move, couldn’t shake it, even though she desperately needed to. She shifted restlessly, clenching and unclenching as his fingers continued their slow, terrible torture of her body.
She was close to the edge. She shivered in tension, and with every breath she clutched at his cock, the solid pressure and presence driving her crazy. She wanted him to move , needed him to move. She wanted him to push her forward on the deck and pound into her, crushing her with his weight and filling her with his seed. She wanted that terrible tension to ease, and she’d do anything to make it happen.
She moaned out loud, and he gave a long, low chuckle. His fingers stopped moving, and he whispered in her ear once more.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to fuck me,” she said, each word a gasp. “Oh Sean, I need it so bad. Please.”
He laughed, wrapping one arm firmly around her waist and holding her to him as he shifted. As if he’d read her mind, he lowered her before him face first to the deck. Somehow he managed to pull the shorts off her completely, although she had no clue how. She found herself on her hands and knees on the prow of the boat, speared by his cock and poised on the edge of insanity.
“Do it now,” she demanded, her voice hoarse with frustration. His hands gripped her hips, pulled back, and then slammed forward into her with a force that nearly dropped her.
He was huge. He pushed her delicate tissues open, a marauder set on taking her for his own. Eyes closed, it was easy to imagine she was on an old sailing ship, prisoner to a pirate’s lust and subject to his every whim. Again and again he pummeled her, each stroke bringing her closer to the edge. His fingers reached around her, dancing cleverly across the center of her desire, and then she exploded into a thousand pieces. She felt her limbs give way, and he lifted her by the waist, torso dangling forward. He swung her around, laying her face down across the top of the cabin, arms spread out before her and knees braced on the deck. He started thrusting into her again, and her sensitive flesh cried out for relief. It was too much, she couldn’t take any more. Again and again he thrust into her, and she hovered desperately on the brink of another orgasm.
He rode her hard, never giving an inch. Her muscles clenched and unclenched, grasping at him as if she could hold him into her body if she just tried hard enough. Each time he pulled away from her before slamming into her again.
Finally, right on the edge of her orgasm, her head lolled to one side and her eyes drifted open. Standing before her were both of the crewmen, their faces intent. To her horror, Skip rubbed an enormous erection through his pants. Jose stood behind the smaller man, arms wrapped around him, nuzzling his neck. The two men must be lovers.
She wanted to scream at them, to wilt in shame at being seen this way, but all she could do was focus on breathing. She closed her eyes again, pretending they weren’t there. Sean thrust into her one more time and she was done.
Starbursts exploded behind her eyes, and every bit of her seemed to cease for one brief, shining moment.
She could hear Sean crying out behind her as his seed burst forth into her body. He shuddered against her, and then collapsed over her, sucking in deep breaths of air.
Gradually she became aware again of the rocking of the boat, and the soft sighing of the wind as it whispered through the empty rigging. Sean lifted himself, and then pulled her back into his lap, cradling her and kissing her face softly. She felt tears building up and welling out of her eyes, and then it washed over her. Everything that had happened, from her kidnapping to this strange new existence hit her at once. She missed her old life, that was true—but what scared her the most was she’d just allowed herself to be fucked by the man who’d captured her, in front of his crew, and all she could think was how much she wanted it to happen again.