Untimely Interruption — The Pirate King & Neia (Mature) (Patreon)

You're pressed face-first into the mattress.

Your arms flail aimlessly for something to hold on to, and your breasts are squashed on the white sheet beneath. You feel the cloth rasping against your skin, burning your nipples with each thrust of his hips. You hear your short bursts of breath mingle with the sound of flesh plowing into flesh, your moans and mews intertwining with his controlled grunts that come from deep in his chest. And your eyes, your eyes are filled with the rainbow of exploding stars behind your eyelids.

"Oh, God." A voice that faintly sounds like your own cries into the air, but it falls on deaf ears because The Pirate does not stop. He doesn't even slow, and you don't want him to.

"Easy," he rasps, and then you bite down on the bed sheet to keep from yelling when his rough hands hold your hips up, forcing your spine to arch even more, and when he rolls inside you, he hits deeper and harder and by all the gods in existence, you're about to burst into flames. "Easy, now, peach."

He's chuckling. He thrusts into you from behind, powerful legs against yours, holding your hips hostage with one hand while the other sprawls possessively over the cheeks of your butt. He then slides his hand forward, following the curve of your spine, and all the while he doesn't stop. He laughs as he fucks you and refuses to stop.

There are no more stars to destroy. You're all that's left. "I— I'm going to—"

His hand leaves your hip to snake beneath you, and a cut thumb suddenly presses on the pearl in your core. "Go ahead," your pirate mutters, leaning forward to kiss the dimples on your lower back, his thumb circling his treasure as he thrusts deep—

And it's your turn to explode. Waves of pleasure rock against you like the tides of a great ocean, robbing you of all the air in your lungs, making your legs and arms spasm, making you bite down hard on the sheet lest you shout until the whole ship hears you.

Your Pirate does not stop.

You almost beg him to.

His thrusts are languid now, almost lazy as he gently waits for you to come back to your senses. You crack your eyes open and feel him closer. His chest presses against your lower back as he kisses each knot of your spine. "Third one," he says, and you can hear the smugness dripping from the tone. You want to wipe it out of him, you want to kiss him, you want to grab his egotistical face and...

All you can do is mumble incoherently to the mattress.

He chuckles again, low, and thundering, the sound spreading from his chest into your back and then deeper, digging past your ribs to lock around your heart. His hand leaves your core to hold onto one of yours, and you cling to his fingers as his lips slowly kiss upwards. They kiss the space between your shoulder blades, then your right shoulder, and then the Pirate locks lips with your neck.

"Ohh," you let out, eyes closing once more as he lavishes the pulse point beneath your jaw. You jerk when his hips start to move quicker again, the pain of soreness slowly melting into pleasure once more. "I can't go again," you beg, tilting your chin so he can graze his teeth along your throat. "I can't."

The Pirate pauses. He stops moving completely, buried deep in you, and you bite back a moan of protest. "Look at me." You have your left cheek pressed against the pillow, but when you blink your eyes open, you see his face right beside yours. He's entirely over you, his weight like a furnace, a chain, a reassurance. "You need to stop?" he asks, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

His eyes are pitch black, and his hair falls in tatters around his face. Sweat drips down his chin, his chest, and shoulders. You lift your hand, cupping his jaw, your thumb resting on the gold ring tying his beard. "No," you whisper and lean towards him.

"I need to kiss you."

For such a violent man, his kisses are surprisingly tender. The Pirate holds you in his arms, and you turn in his embrace to face him. Your legs intertwine as your tongues dance, and his hands burn a path up your back.

You want to wipe his ego, but you know you're made weak when he holds you like this. Slowly, the Pirate hooks one hand under your knee and loops your leg over his hip, opening the way for him. You smile into the kiss when you reach down and find him still hard. "So busy proving your prowess that you neglect yourself," you tut against his lips.

"Ungrateful little thing you turned out to be," he says, but his voice is dark because you teasingly pump him up and down. "I'm here giving you the best fuck of your life, and you say I'm proving myself?"

You laugh, and he chuckles too, lips on your cheek. "Have I ever told you how insufferably arrogant you are?" you ask.

Your hand guides him to you. You feel the tip against your opening and bite your lip in anticipation.

"Peach, you can call me whatever you want as long as you keep letting me do this."

And with that, he bucks his hips—

BOOM.

The cabin's door slams against the wooden wall, and your soul jumps out of your body. "Captain! We see land on the horizon!"

You had been staring up at his face, but now a thin veil blocks the world as the Pirate throws the sheet over your entire body. But he doesn't stay beneath it. Through the white, silky fabric, you see his shape turn on the bed.

And the silence that follows could chill the deepest pit of hell.

Your heart hammers against your ribcage, but slowly, you reach up and peek over the sheet. By the door, you see a frozen deckhand, his eyes blown wide and his mouth opening and closing without a sound.

You follow his shocked gaze to your right, where the Pirate slowly gets up from the bed, and reaches for one of his axes. "Who told you to come into my chamber without knocking?" the Pirate asks, and you know that voice. It makes your core tingle, and your legs rub together.

The Pirate is furious.

The deckhand swallows in dry. "N— no one."

"No one?" the Pirate repeats and turns towards him. He doesn't bother hiding his nakedness. "So, it was your own idea? You thought to yourself 'Let me burst into the captain’s living quarters', was that it?"

The poor man glances at you—

"Eyes on me." Comes a growl.

The man jumps but immediately obeys, setting his eyes on the approaching captain. You can see him shaking, and no matter how the Pirate's broad back looks good against the light coming from outside, you're starting to feel worried.

"I... I didn't think. I didn't know you had company. Sir."

"You didn't think," the Pirate rumbles. You start to sit up, holding the sheet to your chest.

"Hey," you call. You need to de-escalate this. "It's alright—"

But both you and the deckhand jump when, like a snake, the Pirate slams his hand on top of the deckhand's on the door, keeping him in place. "Do you know what it´s like to drown?” the Pirate growls.

"N— no, sir."

“Next time you pull a stunt like this, I´m going to tie your hands and make you walk the plank. You’ll get to experience it first-hand and when we meet again in Hell, you can tell me all about it.”

The poor deckhand color completely drains from his face.

There's a tense pause. The Pirate leans his head down closer to the other man's face. "Did you see anything?" he asks, then. "Did you get a peek at her?"

"No! No, I swear!"

You flush from top to bottom and consider hiding under the sheet again but decide against it in case the Pirate decides to murder the man. But you didn't have to worry because, after another tense moment, the Pirate suddenly straightens up and gives a big slap to the deckhand's back.

"Well, lesson learned then," he says jovially, patting his arms in camaraderie. "No need to piss yourself, my good man. Just don't do it again."

And with that, he pushes the other man out of the room, slams the door closed, and spins around, still naked, still smiling, to lock eyes with you. "Where were we?" he asks, and you giggle when he jumps head-first into the bed.

- - -

Her lips are searing.

They hurt, they burn, they bite and claim — and you wouldn't have them any other way.

Neia sits below you, her hands holding you up and close to her. Five fingers grip your hip, and the other sprawl on your back, pushing your chest against her face. You're trembling all over, sweating from every pore of your body, and as her teeth rasp against your nipple, you throw your head back and howl.

"Neia!" you hiss, half in a trance. She's so big, so dense under you. You're on top, but she has all the control, driving your body as if you're a marionette on a string. "Neia, holy shit."

You clutch the long white strands of her hair as Neia opens her mouth to suckle on your breast. You buck your hips against her, but a large, dominant hand on your waist doesn't let you grind like you want to. Neia slides it lower to palm your ass, kneading the flesh with a hardness that'll leave a bruise. But, like all she does, it dances on the line between pleasure and pain, and you are losing your mind.

"Nei..." you sob, wrecked, when she licks your other nipple before sucking it into her mouth. Her arms trap you against her, and your legs shake from the strain to keep upright, but she doesn't give you a choice. "Please."

With a plop, Neia lets go of your breast. You feel her sharp chin digging into your breastbone as she looks up. You gulp down air and slowly look back down. Her yellow eyes bore into yours, and her lips stretch thin into a teeth-filled smile. "Whose God are you praying to, sweetling?" Neia's sizzling voice makes the fine hairs on your arms stand to attention. You don't have a point of reference to it, she sounds like no one else you've ever heard.

You're addicted to the sound. "I'm not praying to any god," you say, hand closing on her hair. You pull her up, pull her desperately, but Neia doesn't budge. She stays sitting down, so far down below you.

"You should," she says. Her hand squeezes your ass, then, as the other closes like iron over your hip. You jolt when she pulls you against her. Your breasts are squished against her face, and she looks up from between your nipples. You never thought the image would turn you on so much. "Maybe she would listen."

And despite yourself, you snort in surprise. "You want me to pray to you?" you say, and then shiver when Neia brushes her knuckles on the point between your legs.

"Hmm," she hums, lips ghosting your heart. "Wouldn't hurt much. Might get you what you want."

You can't believe your ears. "Isn't that sacrilege?" you ask. You don't care about religion half as much as she does, but you never thought Neia, of all people, would sin this openly.

But Neia chuckles. She lowers her chin again and puts your nipple back into her mouth. A shiver runs down your spine only to immediately snap back up when she presses one finger at your opening. The slight pressure is maddening.

"I've long found that what I do in bed," Neia mumbles, nuzzling her nose at the side of your breasts. She inhales deeply, and your jaw slackens as you watch her. You can't stop watching her. "Concerns no one but myself and whoever shares it. Here, in my mattress, His eyes are averted."

Neia joins another finger, and she pushes them both inside you. You mew, gasping, as she slowly, excruciatingly, explores your inner walls. "So, you best pray to me, little one," she says, but you're barely listening. Her other hand makes circles on the jutting bone of your hip, eliciting small noises from you. "No one else is listening."

Her voice is like smoke, and while you drown in it, it loses all meaning. You close your eyes, and sway above her, against her. Your hips roll with her fingers, her arm holds you tight around the waist, keeping you up, and it feels so good. It all feels so, so good.

"Neia," you don't realize you say.

"Pray to me."

Your lips drop open, and your head falls back, and your hands hold onto her shoulders. You're on top of a wave, now, and it's growing and growing. "Sweetling," her mesmerizing voice brushes your ears. You feel her scar, so hard, pressed between your breasts. You pull her face into you, embracing her with all your strength as she adds yet another finger. "Say my name."

"Neia."

You lose control over your body. You're gridding against her, your hips wild and loose, and for once, Neia lets you. She lets you use her, and you're not shy any longer. Your nails rack over her shoulders, her back, her beautiful breasts. You pull her hair, pull her head, and then snap it up and lock your lips with hers.

Your tongue breaches in, hungry, demanding, because her thumb is in your bundle of nerves, and you ride her hand, swallowing down her saliva, and biting her lip. Neia groans into your mouth, and it's just enough to get you there.

You're there. So close. All you need is—

"Oh, my Lord!"

Neia clutches your hips with bruising force.

And you're flying.

"AH!" you squeak — rather embarrassingly, in hindsight— when you land heavily at the edge of the bed. You swing your head, your heart thundering, to see Neia rise to her knees, her muscled arm flying to the broken sword nearby, and the twin flames of her eyes narrowing on...

Neia freezes. And then a torn smile twists the scar on her lip. "Wrong room," she says in her familiar growl.

You follow her sight to see two women planted in the doorway to your room. One is approaching middle age, while the other is a bit younger. They each have a traveling bag in one hand, and they look like two mice who just made eye contact with a pouncing cat.

You forgot to lock the door.

You groan in frustration, pressing your fists over your eyes. "Fuck," you hiss and then throw your arms open to glare at the pair of women. Why the hell are they still here?

You open your mouth to tell them to go away when a low chuckle reverberates from your side. "Look at what you did. She's all pissed now," Neia says.

You scowl at her, but it only makes Neia chuckle harder. The specter reaches over and grabs your chin. "'Let's give them a show" she whispers, leaning down to kiss you.

"Hm!" you protest when her tongue pushes past your lips, and now your mouth fills with her. You grab her shoulder, trying to push her back, but Neia ignores it and tilts your head to kiss you deeper. She leans over you, pressing you down, and you can't fight her as she forces her bulk over yours. Neia kisses you sloppily and loudly, and you're burning in embarrassment because you can feel the women's eyes on you. You feel them as Neia cups your breast and kneads it in full view of the intruders.

And then you feel them no more because the door slams closed and the sound of running feet echoes down the hall.

Neia breaks away and starts to laugh. You're struck speechless for a moment because you've never seen her laugh like this. She's sprawled on the mattress with one hand clutching her stomach while her shoulders shake up and down. Her white hair spreads like a halo around her head, and you hate that your lips instinctually quirk up.

"Neia," you say, trying to sound annoyed. You climb on top of her and grab her shoulders. "Neia, stop it. It's not funny."

"It fucking is," Neia says, laughing still. Her eyes crinkle with each breath, and you find her so beautiful. Her hands rise to hold your waist, thumbs making small circles. "Did you see their faces?"

You purse your lips. "I couldn't see very well. Someone was sucking my face off."

Neia chuckles and then drags her hands higher. You shiver when she cups your breasts. "Speaking of sucking," she drawls, the sound igniting your lower stomach once more. "Go lock the door, will you, sweetling? I'm not done with you and..."

Neia sits up so that her lips are near yours. "I don't want any more damned interruptions."