cribellate | age of piracy;

[She doubts he wants an answer. She doubts he wants her to move her mouth anywhere away from him right now. But there is something too beautiful about him, the long length of his body, the strength in him. Daphne, like most Khan, is attracted to strength, physical and emotional, and Charles has it in spades. Strength of will.

She takes a moment before she gives him an answer, lapping the tip of his cock with a broad, flat tongue, letting him see the pleasure that she takes from this act. Her eyes close to slits, her mouth shifts just a little - fangs, tongue - and she shows those off, too, before she swallows him down as much as she can, letting him feel the sharpness of her teeth, dangerous but never that dangerous.

When they were in Nassau, someone - to this day Daphne doesn't know who, it might have been one of Charles' men, known for being wild - thought that she was an easy target. They got her on her knees, and she was half-asleep, dazed, absolutely horrified anyone would touch her this way.

She shifted her teeth and bit his prick off, and that was when Jack, Anne, and Charles, hearing the commotion on the beach, came in. She was covered in blood, savage, spitting out hunks of flesh, and Charles, seeing the wildness, barely knowing her, held out his hands. It'll be done, he said, as he knelt down next to her and watched as she swore in a language that none of them spoke.

She doesn't know - or care - what happened to that man. She suspects someone killed him, or maybe he jumped into the sea. But she knows that when she brings teeth into the equation, Charles knows that she's done it before, and knows, too, that she would never do it to him.]

Ungh.

[ It's the look of her pleasure that gets to him, almost as much as the edge of teeth. Charles knows that Daphne would never hurt him, not even with an accidental shift, but it doesn't stop his breath from hitching when her fangs scrap the side of his cock, somehow hot and cool at the same time.

It keeps him still beneath her... mostly. His back still arches, a tremor running through him underneath her hands and mouth. Fuck. ]

That's my girl.

[He says that's my girl and for some reason she can't quite understand, that's what makes her whimper, a high and needy noise that she can't control. How is this man real, and how is he hers?

She presses him further down, breathing through her nose, eyes fixed on how he's arching his body. The sharpness of her fang moves just against his cock, teasing, and then she moves her teeth away and out of where it might do damage as she swallows him down.

Oh.

Her eyes flutter closed so she can concentrate, and oh.]

[ That's just more than he can take.

His grip on her neck goes tight, and he throws his head back with a shameless groan and nothing else to warn her of how close he suddenly is to the edge.

It's all he can do not to thrust upward, though the delicate caress of her teeth helped to remind him of that, when just a glimpse of the look on her face makes him come, hard, his hips shuddering with the effort of staying still. He groans again, long and guttural, and again, when the last pulse goes through his cock. ]

[She swallows, pleased, and watches him finish, watches him groan and shudder and come right into her mouth.

She kisses his thigh, presses her head against the spot, just for a moment. She's quiet as she lets him catch his breath, and then after a moment she presses another kiss to his thigh, shifting back and crawling up out of the water and into his lap, practically purring for this.

She leans to kiss him on the mouth.]

My lion.

[She looks so pleased.]

I love the way you look at me when you come. Like I'm the entire world.

[ It actually does take a minute for his head to clear enough to push himself slowly up again, and when he does so, he quickly finds her waiting for him.

Charles gathers Daphne into his arms and kisses her back, with more hunger than might be expected after the way she just made him come. His hands slide around her waist and up her back, and then one of them drops down, between her legs. ]

You are the world, tigress.

[ The end of all things. He'll either die with her or for her, whenever his time truly comes. The trade is still worth it. And he kisses her again, hooking two fingers inside her, curving into her warm cunt while his thumb rolls over her clit. ]

I love the way you close your eyes when you suck my cock. Like it makes you so wet to do it.

[She loops her good arm around his neck, digging fingers into his hair and gasping as his fingers slip inside her. It's good - really good - and she spreads her legs a little to give him space. His hands are big, and she really does like those calluses, a reminder of who he is, that he lives and dies by the strength of his hands.

She closes her eyes now.]

It does make me wet. Every time, hot, and wet, and tight, just from the taste and the smell.

[She lets him hear all those pretty noises he likes so much, presses her head into the crook of his neck and whines.]

That's good, just like that.

[ Those noises are music to his ears, the only siren call that would ever work on him now. But it's the way her voice sounds when she talks dirty to him that brings his blood straight up, even if he just came two minutes ago.

She says just like that, but he presses a third finger inside her anyway, pumping his hand against her cunt to give her something to ride if her body lets her. ]

Tell me what else makes you wet.

[ His hand moves faster, rubbing her clit with the heel of his palm, and he nuzzles her up for an obscene kiss. ]

[She whimpers - ah, ah, ah - as she moves her hips as much as she can, kissing him and devouring his mouth, then whimpering again. It's hard to focus but she likes his hand on her, she likes the simplicity of coming on his hand like she's a green girl.]

When you were gone-

[When he was at sea.]

I'd think of your come, hot and sticky, between my legs, and it would make me heat up. And you in my bed, late at night when you got hot and just turned me over to fuck me. The-

[She groans, and kisses him, riding through a little peak, but it's not enough.]

-the way you look when you're half-naked and covered in blood and war is all on you.

[ His growl is absolutely predatory, and maybe it's just like developing an accent in a new place over time, but every time he does it, he sounds just a little more like her.

Picking up the tiger tongue, as it were.

He fucks her harder with his fingers when he feels the tremor go through her, pressing his nose to her cheek with a hungry sound. ]

I dreamed of you. You haunted me at sea. [ He smirks a little bit, as his hand nearly lifts her. ] My ferocious woman.

[She's a savage thing that he's caught, and she's still dangerous, untamed, feral, and growling in his arms as her cunt pulses around his three fingers, as she rocks against his palm. She tugs closer to him, somehow, and nods, her eyes closing now. The sound of his voice, the growl, it makes her spasm a bit.]

I want every moment you're at sea, ever moment you're away, Charles, I want-

[She opens her eyes and presses her nose to his.]

I want you to suffer in how much you miss me. I want you to know that no one else could satisfy you.

[She cries out, now.]

Charles, I want you to know I'm hungry for you.

[ He kisses her, messy and hot and breathless, his fingers fucking her ruthlessly and his palm grinding her clit, chasing every spasm that goes through her body. He wants her wrecked, strung out, loving the sight and sound of her pleasure more than the haul of any treasure galleon. ]

Whenever I'm not inside you, I'm suffering.

[ His dick, which had barely flagged in the meantime, is fully hard again and pressing solidly against the warmth of her inner thigh, and every time she trembles it sends a pulse through him, making him groan.

The sound of his fingers relentlessly working the sweet spot inside her is even more obscene in the quiet of the bath. ]

Soak my fingers so I can fuck you.

[She laughs, and nods, kissing him.]

Push up.

[She knows her body; he knows her body, too. He knows just how to touch her, just the spot, his long fingers practically magic at this point. She reaches down to touch his cock, not stroke, but just press her fingers against him as she whimpers against his mouth.]

You don't have to wait for me.

[She kisses him hard, but grinds down against his hand anyway, a rush of fluid suddenly against his hand, his wrist, and her cunt is pulsing as she gasps. She takes a breath, her eyes shut tight as she cries out and curls down against him.

He doesn't ever have to wait for her, but he does, and that means more than she can actually communicate.]

[ It turns him on so much more to wait for her, her pleasure making him wild, whipping him up into pure lust so that getting his chance to finish is that much more powerful. But since he's come once already he figures this doesn't even count.

He moans when he feels her come all over his fingers, catching her ravenously in that kiss and only letting her go with a snarl. His fingers draw out and slide up her clit just in time for the last wet spurt to soak his stomach, making him let out a breath like he's taken a blow.

Charles gives her a moment to ride out the fiercest waves, but before she's stopped shivering from it he grabs her hips and pulls her straight down onto his cock. The moan that comes out of him rolls his head back. ]

That's it. You're so fucking wet for me, Daphne.

[ He holds her on him and then he moves, pushing himself off the edge and sliding back into the water with her. The water keeps him slower, but lets him move her easily, without putting much stress on her body that isn't the good kind. ]

[The best part of having him push into her, right on the end of her orgasm, is that she's still tight, clenching, like she's trying to hold him in. It means when he fucks into her the stretch is almost painful, almost, that glorious edge where pain and pleasure blend and she's cries out that feeling, her hands scrabbling to hold onto him. There's still weakness in her bad arm, but it's doesn't seem to slow her down.

He lowers them into the water and she has to admit that's better.]

No one else-

[As if her loyalty was ever in question; it never has been. Since the first time he fucked her, she's been gone for him, possessed by him.]

Turn us around, I want you pressing into me, I want you to fill me up.

[She means she wants to have her back against the edge of the bath, she doesn't want to be on top. She wants him to be the only thing that she can focus on, the whole world.]

[ Wish, command - but first he has to kiss her one more time, hard and claiming, because this is the woman he loves and he can't go without it for too long.

It's almost worshipful, toward the end, but then he twists them around and presses her back up against the solid side of the bath. As soon as the brace is solid, he starts to thrust into her, touching his forehead against hers, gaze locked.

Everything is wet heat. Even the water in the bath feels like her hands all over him, the glance of fingertips every time it splashes on his skin. Charles groans, his eyes slipping shut for a breathless moment as his cock stuffs her full over and over - and then he draws back, straightening up so that he can see her completely. Not just because she's so fucking beautiful, especially in the throes of pleasure, but because he wants to know the second that so much as a twinge of pain might cross her face. ]

[She tries to chase that kiss, because as much as he worships her she worships him back, as much as he loves her she does the same. She wants him, completely, wants to be wrapped in him.

She is no coward but she’s afraid of the intensity of what she feels for him but she pushes into it headfirst anyway.

Her body responds to him, to the thrusts, and she lets the noises she’s making go. There’s no pain; she’s practically floating in how good she feels.]

Charles-

[She gasps his name, clinging to him as he fucks her open, and knows a second orgasm is coming fast.]

Won’t last, please-

[She tightens, her body starting the flush of another orgasm, her fingers catching skin as she rakes them over his shoulders.]

I'm so fucking close, Daphne--

[ He doesn't want her to wait, because he's right behind her, the luscious tightness of her cunt practically milking him for his own second round. ]

Come all over my cock. I want to feel it.

[ One of his hands slides up her body to curl around the back of her neck, tipping her chin with his thumb just enough to make sure she's watching him as he's watching her, so that all they can see is each other as his cock pulses heavily inside her.

He catches one of her hands as she claws at him, and pulls it down over his chest, below the brand, above his heart, and holds it there. Then he throws his head back with a moan of pleasure and fills her with a hot rush. ]

[That brand; she knows it intimately, the feel of it, the press of it against her hand and against her mouth. She spreads her hand over his chest and her fingers slide over the brand.

He's hers now. Hers, without a doubt. She doesn't need anything so primitive to prove it. It's in the way he looks at her, or the way that he talks - or doesn't - about her. It's in a loyalty that she knows in the core of her.

She gasps and curls up tight against him, pressing her face against his throat as her vision whites out and all that's left is the smell of his clean skin and his come and his arousal, all at once. She stays there, her cunt tightening around him, milking his cock as much as she can, until she's feeling boneless and sated.]

Don't let go yet.

[ His answer is to groan low in his chest, tightening his grip on her just a little as the last pulse of ecstasy goes through him. He strokes her hair a little, but keeps his hand where it is, firm at the back of her neck.

Eventually he does manage to bring his head forward again, looking at her with lazy, warm satisfaction. The lion and the tigress basking in the warmth of the sun.

Except instead of the sun it's scented bath water and come. ]

You are so fucking beautiful.

[ It's barely a murmur, the way he says it, like he doesn't even know he's saying it out loud. It simply came out of him, too true to remain unsaid. ]

[He strokes her hair and he's so warm, she chuffs, the noise feral and completely animal, and she blinks up at him. Her eyes are wide, amber and gorgeous and wild. She smiles, slowly, like she's a little drunk.]

Most beautiful girl you've ever had?

[She's a vain creature, and he knows it. She loves to be told that she's beautiful, she loves to know how gorgeous he thinks she is. Every time he calls her beautiful she rosies up, looks pleased by the thought. It's almost as powerful as a confession of love.]

Oh, there's no comparison.

[ There really isn't. He's spent so long committing Daphne's entire body to memory that even Eleanor's face has started to blur out in response.

With a little smile, he runs his thumb along the angle of her jaw. ]

When I first saw you, I knew I wouldn't be able to get you out of my head.

When you first saw me, I was filthy, my hair was matted, I smelled worse.

[She tips her head and kisses his fingers, and takes a breath, not wanting to move. She knows that they should, soon, before the water gets too cold, that she should dry off and do something, anything.]

When I first saw you I wanted to kill everyone in sight, and I thought you must have been kin.

[She pushes him just a little, and she's deliciously sore between her legs as she dips under the water, reaches for soap, starts running it over her skin. She knows that he's watching; she likes that he's watching her, as she cleans her throat, her shoulders.]

I know.

[ His grin broadens, little by little, remembering that moment and how fascinated he was by her in spite of the conditions. Maybe because of them. A treasure that had been badly treated.

He draws back from her slowly, but doesn't take his eyes off of her, admiring the slickness of her skin and how easily her hands slide over it. ]

I wouldn't have blamed you, if you'd tried to kill me. But you didn't. That's why I had no hope at all.

[There are a lot of things she doesn’t remember about that time. The months in the cage blend together, the shifts happening, the drugs they fed her making her unable to fight, and if she didn’t eat the weakness making her unable to think.

And then Charles, looking at her like she was a mystery. She probably was.

She washes the rest of her skin off, and then comes to give him the same treatment, her fingers moving over him with no rush.]

I’m glad I didn’t try to kill you. I’m glad I waited, because I realized I wanted you.

[She smiles up at him.]

I’ll tell you a secret.

[Daphne hoards secrets like pirates hoard gold.]

Let me wash your hair for it.

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