Something scurried past overhead. Wrinkling his nose, Ayo took his first conscious breath of the day. The odour of unwashed bodies and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on nearly choked him. He began to cough. Sitting up quickly, his head collided with the low beam on which his hammock was hanging, and he proceeded to tumble from the swinging fabric, landing with a crash on the hard wood of the floor. Rubbing his sore head with one hand and his buttocks with the other, he swore in his mother tongue. Blinking away the sleep from his stinging eyes, Ayo looked down at his fingers, which had a little red on them. Wiping the blood down his trousers, he pulled his grubby hanky from his pocket and mopped at the cut on his brow. It seemed fairly minor, and he was sure it would stop weeping soon.
Huffing out a breath, he gazed around him. The only light came in through the hatch in the ceiling. Ayo rolled his eyes. Of course, he was below deck of the ship. Around him hung about another dozen grotty hammocks. Some in the farthest, darkest corner were sagging with the weight of men in them, but most were empty. His hollow stomach clenched. Was he supposed to have risen with the rest of crew? No one woke him up, but he hadn’t even heard them leaving. His stomach rolled as the ship swayed side to side. Swallowing hard, he climbed to his feet, remaining hunched so his head didn’t graze the rough beams.
Pulling his boots and shirt on, Ayo climbed the ladder that was in the middle of the room. Pushing the cross-work hatch from the hole, he emerged into the sunlight. Blinking harshly, he sneezed immediately when the white rays abused his eyes. Rubbing away the orange and purple globs that floated before his vision, he surveyed the area. Three men, two of which he vaguely recognised from the previous night were hammering nails into planks of wood that covered the yawning holes scattered across the decks. Another two were supporting the giant stake that was replacing the broken mast whilst another hammered it into place and two more new faces were reattaching the patched-up sails to the rigging. But the attractive brunettes were nowhere to be seen. He assumed they were the ones still snuggled up in their makeshift beds.
Ayo’s heart sped up just a little when he saw him. The captain stood high on the quarterdeck, his head cast to the sky and his hands grasping the rounded spokes of the wheel. The Defiance. Now Ayo thought about it, the name of his vessel certainly suited Captain Roberts. He’d not even known the man a full twenty-four hours, but he could tell, just by looking in his nearly black eyes that the name was his own choosing. Ayo swallowed. The ship wasn’t moving particularly fast, he guessed it wasn’t really possible with all the repairs going on, but still, Cape Lopez was far behind them. Ayo noted the heavy chains that held the anchor were raveled up on the deck now, clinking loudly every time the brig moved with the babbling waves.
He looked up again, squinting past the high noon sun. The black-haired man’s attire was simpler than the night before. He wasn’t wearing a hat over his cropped hair, but his white shirt and brown lace-up breeches were clean and devoid of wrinkles still. It couldn’t have been much past midday, but already, perspiration was beginning to bead over Ayo’s skin. He half considered removing his top like most of the other’s had done, but instead he rolled his shirtsleeves up and pulled it from his trousers, enjoying the way the light breeze wafted beneath the fabric. Moving across the creaking wooden boards, he scaled the ladder easily and inched towards the captain who didn’t appear to notice him as he stared out across the ocean, his jaw set hard.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Captain Roberts, uh, I’m afraid I have yet to find my bearings. Is there anything you wish me to do today?” Ayo coughed.
The captain’s eyes snapped to him as though it was the first time he was seeing the new recruit. Those brown irises didn’t appear quite so dark in the sunlight, but Ayo still felt them as though they were boring into his soul. Subconsciously, he stepped back a little from the black-haired man and dropped his gaze. Ayo’s breath hitched in his chest. He was already doubting his very rash decision to join the pirate captain on The Defiance. Suddenly, the grave lines of his face dissolved, and the corners of his mouth turned up. Sliding away from the wheel, with all the grace of a feline, he clapped his hands together before placing one on Ayo’s round shoulder.
“Well, you’re actually a little late. As you can see most of the work has already been completed by your crew mates,” Captain Roberts uttered, stepping ever closer.
Suddenly, his hand snatched out and he grasped Ayo’s throat tightly, pushing him up against the side of the ship. He was just thankful there wasn’t a cannonball hole there. Captain Roberts pressed hard against him, pinning him in place with the weight of his heavyset frame. The other man was so close, Ayo could feel his hot breath against the shell of his ear. His nails dug into the delicate skin of his neck, leaving angry, red, crescent moon shapes that trickled tiny rubies from the edges. How on Earth was he so strong? Ayo clawed at the hands cupping his neck, but his fingers seemed to glance off the skin, leaving it totally unblemished. His vision was beginning to grey in and out as he tried to gasp air into his swiftly withering lungs.
Ayo stumbled backwards a little, colliding hard with something. No, someone. Spinning on his heel, his eyes met with Alexandros’s, whose glittered with mirth. He ran his tongue over his lips so they glistened, pretty and pink. Out of the corner of his eye, Ayo saw Mark stepping to the side.
“You lied to get me here, didn’t you?” Ayo asked, heat rising in his cheeks.
Mark gave a small shrug and swung his arm out, granting Ayo access to the captain’s room.
“Whatever the reason,” he grinned, “you’re here now, so come in before we get caught!”
Ayo looked from one to the other as he took a deep breath. Stepping through the narrow door, he had little choice but to stand with his back flush to the wall, lest he press himself up against Mark. What were they playing at? Did they want to get caught? Ayo trained his eyes on the floor. He had to look anywhere but at the brunet’s hot, hard body as Alexandros sidled in next to him. Being this close to him was rapidly pushing Alexandros’s warnings from his mind. The cabin felt as though he’d just stepped into hellfire and it smelt of sweat and rum. Mark stepped forwards so his chest bumped against Ayo’s who closed his eyes.
“Follow me,” he uttered into his ear, hot breath tickling his cheek.
The soft mound at the front of Mark’s drawers brushed over Ayo’s hip as he slid past to the end of his room where the cell was. Ayo’s prick tingled and began to swell in his trousers. He could feel their eyes on him still. Ayo shook his head, he shuddered, and his palms were sweating. He heard the old gate at the end of the room open with a high-pitched squeak and looked around to see Mark was standing behind the grates, which scattered checkered patterns across his body. His fingers flexed over the bar he held, the large gold ring on his finger glinting in the lamplight. Alexandros’s dark eyes were hooded as he gazed from behind Mark.
The invisible tendril that had attracted Ayo to the dangerous men that first night had awakened once more. It tugged upon his consciousness. It told him nothing else mattered and that he wanted, nay, needed whatever they had in store for him. Pushing off the wall, he crept towards the cage like a feline gaining on an injured bird, although, ironically, Ayo was certain he wasn’t the predator in this scenario. Whether Alexandros’s message had been falsified or not, he was certainly glad he was here now.
Walking into the tiny cell, he watched as Alexandros followed and pulled the gate so it slammed shut with a metallic clang that rang round the cabin. Ayo raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips turning up. He licked his lips as Mark slid the soft shirt from his shoulders and allowed it to float to the floor. He ran his hands over Ayo’s chest, kneading the hard muscles as Alexandros pressed his bulge hard against his arse. Ayo’s chest moved dramatically beneath Mark’s fingers as he found the hard stubs of his nipples beneath the cotton. Ayo bit his bottom lip and let his head flop backwards onto Alexandros’s shoulder. Ayo’s heart beat wildly as those lips came towards him. Before he knew it, he was shoved roughly against the bars and kissed hotly as four hands roved over his skin.
He shuddered. His prick was straining against his breeches. He reached his hand down but just as it brushed over the hard flesh, he felt a slap sting the back of his hand. Ayo twisted his neck and looked into Alexandros’s eyes. They were dark with lust and the corner of his lips was quirked upward. With one deft hand, he reached around the front of Ayo and unlaced the material that was keeping his arousal captive. The fell to the floor quickly and he stepped out of them, still being pressed against the cold metal by Mark.
His cock, dark brown and glistening, slapped against the bars in front of him. He groaned. Mark closed his long, lithe fingers around his prick and slid them up and down, twisting his wrist as he reached the plum-liked head, before repeating. Ayo scrunched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. Damn, Mark’s hand felt so good. It had been too long since anyone had touched him. Ayo clung to the grate until his fingers turned pale.
All of a sudden, he felt two large warm hands on the globes of his arse. He shuddered as they were pulled apart and he felt the cool air tickle his hole. He heard some shuffling behind him. Before he knew it, he felt a warm wetness slide over his entrance. He bucked and panted like a pup at the overload of sensations the other men were bestowing upon him. Alexandros cupped his cheeks, smoothing his thumbs into the smooth skin as he buried his face in Ayo’s arse.