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A Captain's Welcome

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“Hi, lass.”

You drop everything and turn towards the source of the voice, unable to contain your squeals as you run into his arms. A crushing hug turns into excited babbles of ‘Shay!’, turns into quick kisses peppered all over his face, turns into him grabbing your face with both hands and groaning into a single heated kiss.

The kiss is an assault on your senses; the smell of him filling your nostrils with the proximity of his body, the taste of his lips as they dip and smoosh against yours, the texture of his tongue as it flicks the seam of your mouth and curls into its second home. Everything is as wonderful as you remember it, everything you’ve craved at every waking moment for the past umpteen months.

You pull up for air and rest your forehead against his. You want to say something, anything, but all words are lost in the moment so you settle on flashing him a genuine smile. It’s too quick, too frantic for you to register who moves first, but before you know it, your eyes are squeezed shut again, the kisses coming shorter and faster.

You’ve learnt by now not to shy away from the sweet moans you produce when you kiss, particularly when his tongue finds yours and brushes it in just a way that has you shivering despite the feverish heat consuming you both. He slips out of his jacket, your hands roaming his abdomen until you meet the metal of his buckle, quickly slipping his belt through the loops and tossing it out of sight.

He’s backing you up further into the room, shedding his own layers along the way until he stands before you practically nude. Your fingers walk down his stomach, hand cupping and squeezing his growing erection through his underwear before he pulls away.

“Don’t,” he huffs, eyes averting away from yours. You flinch at the abruptness in his voice, before he cups your cheek, apologises softly and continues. “I won’t last, love.”

Oh?

Oh.

The air risks falling awkward for a moment. Delectable shivers run through you as his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before; a primal spark that makes you feel stripped down and ravaged before him. And all you’ve done so far tonight is kiss! You swallow at the carnal desire evident in his eyes, nodding and understanding.

He needs you.

There’ll be time for pleasuring him later, all he wants right now is your pussy clenching down on his cock. You blush at the vulgarity of your own thoughts before you’re pulled out of your trance by Shay smirking and plucking the buttons of your nightdress.

“But this,” he tugs lightly at the fabric, burying his face in your exposed neck and inhaling deeply. “Needs to come off before I rip it off.”

You deliberate for a moment, visibly tilting your head from side to side as you weigh out the options before coyly batting your eyelashes up at Shay.

“I have plenty of gowns.”

“Don’t test me, woman.”

You grin and unbutton your dress slowly, glancing up to see the impatient strain on your lover’s face.

“Y/N,” he warns.

You shrug and pull the fabric over your head, leaving the two of you equally naked. He pushes you back against the rug by the hearth, planting a knee-weakening kiss before forcing himself away, sighing at your features he spent many a lonely night yearning for. His finger trails over your lips, down your neck as you shiver, down your perky nipples that jut out against the air.

Freeing you of your underwear, you instinctively part your legs for your lover, more than ready for him to breach you. With a hoarse groan he sinks down your body. Now eye-level with your sex, he drags a finger down the slickness. He’s desperate, you realise, but not inconsiderate. He wants to make sure this isn’t going to hurt you.

Shuffling until he’s comfortable, he spreads your lips with two fingers, mumbling 'fuck’ as the sweet scent of your nectar hits him.

“For me?” He teases, thumb idly grazing your clit and enjoying the shudder that runs through you. Your hands position themselves on the inside of your thighs as you part them further to accommodate the bulk of his shoulders.

“Y-yes,” you moan out, one of his fingers pressing at your entrance and being sucked in by the warm heat. He slides the single digit in and out a few times, just testing your arousal.

“You tell me if anything hurts, alright, lass?”

Barely nodding in response, you brace yourself for more of the white-hot contact. Eagerly complying, he slips a second finger in, intending to stretch you just enough to accommodate his cock within your walls. Your head rolls to the side, sighing when he brushes against your favourite spot. Alas that’s not his intention right now.

Whining when he misses the spot on another thrust, you beg him to play nice.

“Later,” he promises.

A third finger slips in and you lose it, whimpering curses as you squeeze around him, ready to come if he would only fuck you. You beg that of him, too turned on to feel embarrassed by your lewd phrasing.

Just for a few more minutes he fingers you, stretching his fingers out until he’s happy the coupling won’t hurt you. He pulls them out and licks them clean, drinking in the sweet tang that was missing from his life at sea, automatically adding oral to his 'to-do’ list for later.

Slipping out of his underwear, he takes his cock into his palm and you raise yourself up onto your elbows. He pulls his foreskin back as precum dribbles from the tip. He looks up and catches you watching. Your mouth may as well be watering.

With a pleased smirk, he taunts, “Miss this, did you?”

“I think you’ve already seen evidence of that, my love.”

He swats your bottom at your retort and you giggle, melting into the kiss with a stifled moan when you feel the weight of his cock brush against your crease. This is it, your mind screams. You’ve waited months to feel him again, to experience the delicious stretch as he enters you. 'Oohs’ tumble from your lips as he pushes forward; you shift to lay down fully on your back and pull him down with you, your fingers running amok over the heavy muscles.

His hips shift back much to your dismay, altering his angle and driving straight forward, drawing out a broken cry from you as he fills you completely. You barely register the mumbles of obscenities in Gaelic under his breath at feeling you squeeze around him for the first time in months. It’s like he’s entranced by the erotic embrace, you even have to dig your heel into his ass just to bring him back to the present and invite him to start moving.

The first roll of his hips has you grasping the rug beneath your bodies, winded by the sudden pressure teasing your sweet spot. The second roll has you biting your lip, eyes rolling back into your head. On the third roll, Shay balances his weight on his forearms by your head, and takes to kissing your lips a few times, ducking his head as he fucks you to swallow an erect nipple into his mouth

“Sh-Shay… Oh god, that’s good.”

He knows just how to work you. Lapping around your nipple before tugging it with his teeth, you can feel the pleasure right the way down to your toes as they curl in response.

His pelvis slides right against your clit with every thrust, the friction making the pleasure of your own hands on those lonely nights pale in comparison to the expert way he handles you. Your hands tangle in his oily hair as you pull his clouded gaze to yours, your eyes singing your pleasure when coherent words fail you.

He mumbles your name before crashing his lips down on yours, frantically peppering your cheek, neck, breasts, his tongue lapping at the sweat that forms there.

His pace increases with a groan, the slap of his hips against your thighs doing nothing short of driving you mad as you approach your first orgasm. Just closing your eyes and focusing on every sound, every teasing stroke of your inner walls, you find yourself coming with a depraved mewl that takes even you by surprise, the walls echoing those of a brothel more than a home.

Thankful that he takes the hint and raises his body when you push lightly on his chest, you flip the position and push him back down to the rug with a playful smirk. You sink back down on his cock and his hands shoot to your hips, which grind and sway like magic, stimulating his length perfectly with every brush sliding up against your sweet spot.

He looks up at you riding him, both a mistake and a reward in his eyes. You’re a vision of absolute beauty, a siren who instead of leading him to his watery death makes him want to stay docked on dry land, and spend the rest of his days intimately holding you as orgasm after orgasm washes over the both of you.

Everything demands his attention at once:- the bounce of your chest as you ride him: the fantastic view of his cock slipping in and out of you when you plant your feet either side of his hips: the way your cheeks are stained pink, your skin glowing amber in the firelight like you’re from an ethereal plane: your lips swollen and wet from the frantic kisses, pouted in a perfect O as they make all kinds of amorous sounds: your hair disheveled as it falls around your shoulders: your eyebrows knitted together: the trail of sweat dripping as you both work to keep up the hurried pace.

He sits up suddenly, unable to remain so distant from you in his prone position. His hands tuck under your thighs to relieve the evident strain of your muscles, lifting you up and down his shaft as he swoops in for a kiss, bites your lower lip and utters, “I love you.”

Just managing to moan it back, your head is thrown back as you continue to mewl and cry out at the warm spear penetrating you over and over, Shay thrusting upwards with grunts as you rock your hips, writhing, grasping his shoulders, nails marking his skin.

“Sh-Shay I’m…”

“I’m right here with you.”

Your eyes are hooded as you look into his.

“Where do you want me to come?”

Taken aback, you falter. He’s never asked you that before.

“In-inside me.”

“Yeah? Tell me.”

You stutter. He knows dirty talk isn’t your forte, but now and again he tries to draw a little out of you.

“Pl-please, Shay, I want you to come inside.”

He just grunts, you whine at the overwhelming pleasure that burns brightly through every cell in your body. The words slip out before you can censor them.

“Please, my Captain, please come inside me.”

He doesn’t have a moment to be shocked as your second orgasm washes through you, babbling his name with curses, certain your cries could be heard from the rooftops.

After a few more snaps of his hips, his lips lingering against yours with heavy breathing, his slick hair swaying in his eyes, he groans and forces your hips down while thrusting upwards, his seed spilling out in thick heavy spurts.

“Fuck.” He nudges your nose with his, his dark eyes sleepy as you smile dotingly at the man you love, back in your arms for the night at the very least.

***

The two of you lie together atop the rug, chests heaving, sweat a fine sheen on your skin, basking in the warmth of the fire’s glow. Shay lies on his back, his head supported by his hand while his free arm holds you flush against his chest, your head comfy in the dip of his pecs. After a short period of rubbing circles on your shoulder, he manages to speak as the heavy panting settles.

“Captain, ay?”

You didn’t have to look at his face to know he had the most smug grin stretched across his lips. You hide your face in his chest, flustered.

“I have a kink, okay? Leave me alone!”

“Hmm. You know, I don’t think I will.”

You 'hmmph’ your response, hand relishing in the warmth of his body beneath you, your ear pressed against his chest like a seashell, listening to the steady beat of his heart. These little moments are things you always miss terribly while he’s away.

“You… you should come see the Morrigan sometime, lass. My mate Gist is starting talk that you’re not real.” He feels you vibrate against his chest in laughter, shuffling your position to your elbows and donning a cheeky grin.

“Mmh I guess I am one of a kind like that. I thought it was considered bad luck to have a woman aboard a ship?”

“Aye but I’m the Captain. If any of the lads don’t like it, they can stick it where the Sun don’t shine.”

He rolls the two of you into missionary and you yelp at the sudden change in position; your hands tangle in his dark locks, your legs hook around his hips as a warm twitching brushes across your sticky inner thigh. You’re more than surprised that he’s ready to go again so soon, but far be it from you to complain about being treated to multiple orgasms.

“Besides…” His lips graze yours. “You know what I say…” His mouth now rests by your ear, purring in that sinful brogue. “I make my own luck.”