Page 22 of Weathering The Storm

“I’m gonna be the boss of this cock,” he finishes.

My dick throbs in his hand, betraying exactly how much it loves the sound of that. The way he uses my title of authority to strip that very authority away.

“I’m gonna be in charge of your pleasure, and I’m gonna be fuckingthorough. That, I can promise.”

I grit my teeth, my eyes squeezing shut. But a humiliatingly hoarse sound still rips out of me as he takes me into his mouth, working me down to the back of his throat while cradling my sac. Encasing my dick in smooth, slick suction.

He pulls back up for a moment, rolling my balls in his hand. “Eyes on me, sir. I want you thinking about me every time you take the helm.”

He presses his lips to my inner thigh, then a pinch. His teeth sinking into soft flesh. “When you sit in this chair, I want you to think about how your first mate kneeled between your legs and gagged on your fat cock until he sucked every last drop of cum from it.”

It won’t matter if I’m in this chair or in the wheelhouse or on theSuojaat all. I’m going to be thinking about him kneeling between my legs. Saying those words.

I’m going to think about the unbridled lust in his gaze. I’m going to think about the rasp of spit and cum in his voice every time he says “Copy, Captain” or “Yes, sir,” over the radio. I’m going to think about his lips stretched around my cock every time they stretch into a grin. I’m going to think about the way he savors my pre-cum when he sips his coffee in the morning.

Tonight is all I’mevergoing to think about from now on.

This time, I don’t even blink when he rewards my eye contact with the warm embrace of his mouth. I watch him take me down, watch his throat work as he swallows to relax for me, watch his eyes gleam with moisture as he sucks my cock in deep, long strokes. Applying pressure from his tongue along the underside like he wants to continually remind me I’m inside him and he’s loving it. Like he’s trying to massage the cum out of me.

I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be vocal while giving head, but he manages. Every bob of his head is accompaniedby low sounds, vibrating all around my shaft. Like he feels the pleasure while giving as much as he did while receiving.

“Fuck.Seth.” My hands fly from the armrests to tangle in the damp strands of his hair. “So good, so fucking good.”

The cold against my palms distracts from the moist heat of his mouth for a split second before it overwhelms me all over again. A tacky sound punctuates our groans and the wet draws of his breath as my hips lift involuntarily, peeling my skin from the marine upholstery.

I try to warn him how close I am, but it comes out a garbled string of vowels, broken up by full-body shivers each time I bottom out in his throat again.

“Se—ah—plea—” I think I choke out.

His hands slide between me and the seat, grabbing my ass as he buries me in his mouth. Holding me firm and steady while my orgasm explodes through every cell and pours down the back of his throat.

I feel him swallowing around my oversensitive head. His tongue stroking along my length in soothing, teasing motions as he sits back on his heels and finally releases my spent, glistening dick.

My lungs ache like I’ve been running laps out in the cold air. There’s not a chance in hell I’d be able to stand if we were anywhere other than the placid water of a docking slip, and I wonder if Seth feels as wrecked as I do. Because he doesn’t rise from his knees as he stretches to retrieve my half-full glass of brandy.

He raises it to his lips, taking a generous sip before handing the glass to me.

“Nice and smooth,” he says, watching me finish the rest. “Think I could go for a drink after all tonight, if you wanted to sit out on the bow with me.”

It’s pathetic. Thirty-four fucking years on this planet, and this is the closest thing I’ve ever experienced to someone asking me on a date. And my heart reacts like it, too. Like I’m a teenager who fooled around in the back of my parents’ car for the first time, and now we’re heading to the diner for burgers and milkshakes.

But in a way, now I’m glad I never had that. Because this gets to be my first time instead. A date that’s not really a date, but it’s with Seth, so the rest doesn’t matter.

Whatever it’s called, I want it. I want to know what this brandy tastes like on his lips. I want to be with the only person who’s ever truly known me, every part of me, and I want to look up at the night sky. The stars as the sole witnesses to the dumb smile on my face that only he puts there.

“Sure.” I clumsily stand and pull my pants up, fetching a second glass from the far cabinet. “Let me grab a jacket.”

Chapter 6

Seth

I’m fully prepared for things with Nick to be awkward as we sit out on the forecastle under the stars. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for him to hold everything inside for so long, but it’s not like I’m entirely open myself. I understand the circumstances, the culture of our industry, that led him to keep this part of himself a secret.

So I don’t reach for his hand when we walk down to the deck, even though I want to. I sit down first, so he can decide how close is close enough, because I could never be too close to him.

I’m content to meet him where he’s at. Wherever that may be.

But I can’t deny, bubbles burst in my chest when he plops down right next to me. Our legs outstretched and touching, his shoulder bumping into mine when he leans back and drinks his brandy.