When night falls, I dread the captain’s return.
I remember vividly this morning when I used my feminine assets against him, to persuade him to keep Niall’s life. His last words have not been forgotten, either. When he returns, he’ll expect me to finish what I started.
Honestly, I was thinking rashly this morning. I would’ve done anything to preserve Niall’s life. But I didn’t think past succeeding in doing that; I didn’t think there would be anything to follow. But as the crew mates started quieting down, and the night grew colder, I’m filled with dread for what’s to come.
Maybe when he returns, he’ll forget all about what happened.
And maybe, he won’t. Maybe he’ll already be expecting me to be ready for him.
I sit there on the bed, my thoughts running wild as I stare out the window across the dark expanse. Perhaps I can feign sickness, and he’ll spare me? I know that in time, something will have to happen. But if I can do something to prolong that time until I escape, I’ll do it.
All too soon, his heavy footsteps sound out the hallway. I quickly lie in the bed, pulling my body under the thin blanket, and act asleep.
The door swings open, and he strides inside. For a moment, there’s silence. Eerie silence. My heart’s racing wildly in my chest, and my hands tremble in front of me. Hopefully he won’t notice my rapid breathing from where he’s standing.
I hear clothing being shuffled - he’s changing. Then, the weight on the bed shifts as he sits on it, and I feel him touch the back of my spine. Shivers rack my body from his touch, and I silently curse at them for betraying me.
“Miss Aldrich?” He whispers, and I hate the tone of his voice. It’s patronizing, like he’s speaking to a young child.
I gasp quietly as he grabs a hold of my shoulder and flips me around to face him. A small smirk dangles at his lips, and his dark eyes glint in amusement.
My breath is knocked from my chest, horror settling in my features when I see that he’s shirtless. It’s dim in the room, but I can see the rigid forms of his bare chest.
“You should’ve been expecting me,” He coos, upon seeing the fear written plainly in my eyes. “We had a deal.”
My mouth has gone dry. “W-What deal?”
“My vixen, don’t play innocent with me.” He draws me even closer and traces his index finger along my bottom lip, tilting his head. “You weren’t so innocent earlier. What has changed?”
“Nothing - I just, uh…”
“Deals aren’t made to be broken.” His voice hardens, and he suddenly cups my chin painfully tight, his eyes boring into mine. “Do you agree?”
“Of course I agree.”
“Then tonight, you will pay the end of your deal.”
“I can’t,” I shake my head, sitting up slowly.
He stiffens, my answer slowly occurring to him. “Why not?”
“It’s that time of the month,” I mumble, looking downwards in embarrassment. I find myself playing with my fingers anxiously.
He says nothing, and his gaze pierces my skin as the distant sound of the waves rocking gently against the side of the ship disrupts the silence.
“Show me,” he declares finally.
My heart skips a beat, and I blink repeatedly.
“You heard me. Show me,” he repeats, slightly more aggressive.
“But- but,” I stammer, taken aback. “It’s disgusting-”
“Darlin’, must I remind you once again that I’m a pirate? I’ve bathed in blood before Miss Aldrich,” he states, his dark eyes gazing seemingly right through my soul. “A little blood won’t do much to discourage me.”
I shudder, my stomach jumping unhealthily at his vile words. I feel sick as a brief image of him bathing in blood appears in my mind.
“Show me,” he repeats yet again, his patience clearly thinning.
“I-no-” my protest gets stuck in my throat as his hand pushes me back down to a laying position. His body immediately hovers over mine.
“Show me, Roselina, or I’m slipping my hand down there, and I’m staining your porcelain skin with your own blood,” he threatens darkly. I feel nauseous, knowing he’s not kidding around. He’s sick. So sick.
I squeal as his cold hands slide underneath my dress, rapidly squirming away from him. “I lied, okay!” I say, on the brim of tears due to the panic flooding my body. “I’m sorry! I lied!” My back is pressed against the wall.
His hand shoots out and grabs my calf, before he yanks me back under him. My breath hitches as he starts pulling my dress off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.
“You’re sorry you lied to me...” he talks slowly, as if tasting my answer. “I doubt that princess,” he continues, his finger trailing down the side of my face. I shut my eyes, cringing. “But you will be.”
His finger presses itself to my lips.
“You do recall this morning’s deal, don’t you? Of course you do,” he responds, not even waiting for my response. I turn my face away from his, but his fingers latch around my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “You mentioned something about letting me have you in exchange for sparing the boy,” he pauses dramatically. “But do you recall the part where I added that if you’d disobey me, I’d punish you and that the boy would also suffer from your stupid decisions?” he trails on mockingly. “Well, lying to me was a stupid decision. And now you and your friend are going to pay the price.”
Panic swarms inside of me, a knot forming at the bridge of my throat. I’ve made a horrid mistake, and now Niall has to pay the price?
“Don’t make him pay for what I’ve done. It was my mistake, I’m the one who deserves to be punished.”
He pauses and pulls away, amusement evident in his gaze. “Punished?”
It’s getting harder and harder to swallow now. Fear is such a powerful emotion, it can literally take over your entire body and make you do things you’d never do on a normal basis.
I nod. “Yes. Punish me as you see fit, Captain.” The words sound awful to my ears, but what else can I say?
“I don’t know what you’ve been taught your whole life,” He murmurs, his fingers tickling along my thigh, barely grazing my skin. I shiver involuntarily from his burning touch and close my eyes, hoping this will pass quickly. “But the things I want to do to you aren’t all painful. In fact, I’d say they’re more...pleasurable than anything else. Your punishment might end up being your shame for several unholy actions I’ll surely enact on you.”
He kisses down along my neck, the stubble from his chin grazing against my collarbone. The temperature in the room suddenly seems like it’s increased vastly. My bangs stick to my forehead from sweat, and I’m trembling before him. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, trying to picture myself far from here, back on land, where everything made sense. But then his voice brings me sharply back.
“Believe it or not, I don’t want to hurt you, Miss Aldrich.” His fingers continue travelling north, skimming up the hem of my dress, which has been bunched up around my waist from the position we’re in. He starts trying to ease my legs apart, but I unconsciously press them together. His voice instantly hardens. “I just want your submission. So long as you give me that, you have nothing to fear. But as long as you try to fight me, nothing will get easier, and you will live in fear.”
His hand clenches around my thigh, and I wonder if he can hear the wild thumping of my heart. For a moment, I consider lashing out and making a rash attempt to leave the room, but I decide against that. If I do, Niall will pay the price, and when Zayn catches me, he’ll be furious. And then he may hurt me.
Swallowing back the lump still embedded in my throat, I reluctantly release the tension in my legs. His fingers push them apart, and as soon as they can, they swarm within the lines of my clothing. My breath hitches in my throat as he cups me firmly.
“Open your eyes and look at me.”
My chest is heaving with my panting. My entire body is tense with horror. I hesitantly open my eyes to find his dark ones peering down at me. They’re grave yet strongly possessive.
“You belong to me.” He whispers. His hand clenches tighter around me, and I hold back another gasp. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a strange sensation, to have a man’s hand down there. “Your body belongs to me. Do you understand?”
“Good girl.” And just like that, his hand withdraws, and he closes my legs. Right then and there, I could cry in utter relief. Is he going back on his word? Did he only do that to teach me some kind of lesson? If so, then miracles do exist.
“You have my word that I won’t purposely lie to you again.” I utter, slightly stumbling over my words due to my still rapid breathing. It feels as though I’ve run for miles, only to get nowhere.
“Your word doesn’t mean much, darling,” he remarks, cocking his head sideways. A dark smile forms upon his lips. “But actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” He inches closer to me. “So I want you, Roselina, to prove me that you’re under my complete submission.”
I’m afraid to ask him what he means by that. I know it isn’t going to be pleasant.
My heartbeat accelerates as his body leans over mine for mere seconds before he pulls away.
“Do you recognize this?” he enquires, a rope dangling between his fingers. I nod slowly, identifying the rope with which I tied him to the bedpost this morning. “I’m going to tie one of your hands to the bedpost, only to make sure you don’t get another stupid idea like attempting to flee. When that’s done, you’re going to pleasure me Miss Aldrich, and show me how much you appreciate me. Show me how sorry you are for lying to me.”
All too soon, my right wrist is latched tightly to the wooden structure, forcing me to sit at a strange angle. He seats himself next to me on the bed, crossing his ankles, and placing his hands on either side of his thighs, as if waiting for something.
What’s he waiting for?
He clicks his tongue, annoyance settling over his features. “I’m waiting.”
“What do you want me to do?” I’m genuinely confused. Why is he staring at me like that?
And that’s when it hits me.
Growing up, girls used to always be fascinated with the things you do in a bedroom, the things between a man and woman. I used to overhear them mentioning oral sex - ways to pleasure a man without giving your virginity. I just never really took it into account, since I never thought I’d be thrust into that situation. Yet here I am now, with Zayn waiting for me to do...something, and I instantly regret not joining in on the conversations years ago to have learned more about how to please a man.
Part of me is strangely relieved, for I get to keep what innocence I have left. I originally thought he planned to take my maidenhood, him being a pirate and all, but shockingly, that’s not on his agenda. Well, for tonight, that is.
He sighs loudly, fed up, and starts undoing his pants. I quickly look away when he shoves them to his ankles. He’s bare before my very eyes; if I look over, just an inch, I’ll see all of him. My cheeks flush brightly, heated. I don’t want to look - I don’t know what to expect.
“Roselina?” He asks, grasping onto my chin again. “Remember what I told you before. So long as you do as I say, you’ll have nothing to fear. You’ll be taken care of and may even find pleasure along the way.”
Pleasure? I have no sense of what pleasure he means. I don’t understand how any of this can possibly lead to that. To me, pleasure is walking outside to have the sun fully beaming down on you. It’s when you hear a child burst into laughter, or when you stand on the beach with your toes digging into the soft sand with the soft lapping of waves in the distance. With the situation I’m in, pleasure seems nonexistent.
I land my gaze on him, and my breath hitches in my throat. He’s huge and swollen, perfectly ready for the taking. His member is erect, with his hand aiming it upright, and his fingers slowly pump himself up and down, rolling over the very tip. I have never seen something like this, so closely. It’s almost fascinating, if not for the given situation.
Because in a way, I’m intimidated by the sheer size. I doubt it can even fit in my mouth, nonetheless other places. Nonetheless, I reach out, and he moves his hand away, leaning his head back against the wall and granting me full access. He’s watching me intently through half lidded eyes, a masked expression on his face.
I lick my lips. “I don’t...I’ve never done this before.”
“Go on,” He whispers, his voice strangely faint and muted.
I sigh and lightly touch the tip. I’m shocked to find it soft. When I trail my fingers downwards, his shaft is rigid - it’s like a rod covered in a thick layer of velvet. I notice him softly gasping when I touch his tip, so I repeat that motion. But I keep my touch light and soft, afraid to harm him in fear of angering him again.
“No, like this,” He mumbles, shooing away my hand and wrapping his own firmly around the base. Then he strokes it up and down, while maintaining the firmness.
He pulls away, and I replace his hand with my own. I can feel him throbbing under my touch. I slowly mimic his actions and notice reactions coming from him. As I draw upwards, his chest heaves, and his breathing starts picking up at a drastic pace. My touch is evidently having a physical effect on him, and the realization is enlightening, to say the least.
For once, I have power over him.
For once, he’s under my control.
I stifle a smirk as I lower my head and lick the tip, swirling my tongue around it. He gasps louder, his hips thrusting upwards, unable to contain himself. I smirk to myself as I continue pumping my hand along his length, then I gently press kisses along the wides. It has no taste or smell. It’s only skin. Everything those girls from years ago obsessed over seem so trivial, honestly. From what I’m seeing. Although I suppose if I did this with a man I actually loved, this experience would be far different.
I continue lapping at him. Before long, I quicken my pace and have to focus on keeping a firm hold of him. I lick continuously at his tip, noticing salty liquid coming from the small slit. I lick that up, wondering what exactly it is. All the while, he’s running his hands through my hair and murmuring my name, encouraging me to continue. He’s a frenzied mess under my touch, and I love it.
After a couple more strokes, his whole body becomes taut, his grip in my hair tightening. My name tumbles out from his lips like a pained cry. Taken aback, I pull away, only to see his member leaking profusely. Zayn’s fingers grip the small mattress tightly, his face twisted into a mask I assumed illustrated his strong pleasure.
I watch with fascination as the Captain seems to have lost all previous rigidness. His whole body appears relaxed, his head leaning backwards as soft breaths escape his lips. His gaze falls on me after a short time. He doesn’t speak, keeping his eyes fixed on me as the daze empowering him fades leisurely.
“Do you want me to do the same thing to you?” he enquires finally. “Make you feel so good for a while?”
“No,” I shake my head. “You couldn’t possibly...You’re a man and I’m-”
“A woman. I know that, darling,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “But pirates have ways to make a woman’s body sing,” he trails on, his hooded gaze trained solely on me.
I shake my head negatively. “I’m tired. I think i’d prefer sleeping,” I tell him. His eyebrow cocks upwards, but the he shrugs.
“Suit yourself. No doubt you’ll ask me in a very near future,” he says, reaching over me to untie my wrist.
I clench and unclench my fist once it’s released, letting the blood circulate throughout my fingers once more. As the blood returns, his arm wraps around my body possessively, pulling me to him, both of us now in a laying position on the bed. My heart rate accelerates as his body practically molds against mine.
“Since you did well, I’ll let you sleep,” he begins in my ear before throwing the sheets over our bodies, encasing us in their warmth. “But let this give you a taste,” he mumbles, his hand sliding to the inside of my thighs before his fingers caress my feminine folds slowly. My breath hitches, my stomach coils as his thumb presses softly into the skin.
“Please stop,” I whisper, fear lacing my words.
“I will under one condition… Tell me love, how does it feel?” he questions, his voice as soft as velvet.
My eyes shut as he presses his fingers just a little harder. I stop breathing momentarily.
“Roselina…” he sing-songs, his slow circles not stopping.
“Good,” I mumble finally in shame. “It feels good. Now stop.”
He immediately proceeds to remove his wandering hand, placing it on my leg instead.
“I’m only going to make you cum under my touch if you want it,” He whispers, fully resolved. “But by then, of course, you’ll beg me for it.” He kisses me on the forehead and has a small smirk, as if he knows for sure it’s going to happen.
I try to gently pull away, but his arm circles around my mid waist and presses me back flush against him. He buries his face in the back of my neck and exhales slowly, fully content.
I’m still trying to calm my heart down and think clearly. It all seems peaceful around us as we lay there in the dark, but I can’t help but think about what he’s saying. Why would I ever beg him to touch me if I absolutely hate his touch? And part of me is afraid that he’s right. One day, will I fully succumb to him and become someone I fear to be? Or will my perseverance stay strong until the end?