Sunday Smut

An (unedited) excerpt of A Pirate’s Dream, my short story in the eXtasy Atlantis Allure anthology. Say that five times fast, sheesh.

I lay beside him and his body relaxed into mine. My weight rolled him toward me and he nestled there, head on my breast. I pushed a bit of hair over one of his ears and kissed the spot I had uncovered. He groaned softly and looked up at me. I leaned down and kissed him, releasing the smallest bit of magickal energy into the contact. The process of knitting bone, mending flesh and staving off bleeding was a delicate one, slow and careful.
He kissed back, tentative at first and then with enthusiasm. His hands rose to my back, caressing the skin there with the softest of touches. Our hearts began to beat faster, matching rhythm to further the healing process. No matter how many times I do this, I always find the process romantic. The Goddess has a way with love.
Our kiss deepened, tongues touching and dancing together, and our desire deepened with it. I could feel heat pooling between my legs, desire raising the color in my cheeks until I imagined I looked almost human again. Chris’s hands continued to explore my body–where experience lacks, enthusiasm always prevails.
One strong hand came to rest on my ample bosom and I gasped as he squeezed and caressed each breast. His touch was tentative. Careful. Every square inch of the sensitive skin received attention. I ran my hands along his muscled back, tracing each line and curve, careful to release only the tiniest bit of magick in each sweep of my hand. Too much, and he’d be undone by its force.
“I need to heal your internal injuries, Chris. Turn on your back.” My voice was husky. He didn’t move, too focused on bringing me pleasure. Lovely.
I pushed him on to his back. Pulling off his ruined clothing, I tossed it aside. It floated until it hit a rough coral wall behind us.
Chris’s body was as magnificent as I had imagined–all strong muscle and taut flesh. His body hair was so blonde it was nearly colorless, gathering on his belly and leading downward to a thatch of endearing blonde curls. His cock jutted out proudly, as well it should–and I’ve seen a few in my many years of life. He gazed at me, and I could sense he was appreciating my body the same way, my long neck and graceful curves gifts from the Goddess to enchant men like him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, only half aware of himself.
“As are you, my little pirate.”
I mounted his hips and momentarily savored the feel of his cock up against me. He shivered with the contact, and I couldn’t help but thrust my hips against him. Exquisite. Back on task I laid my hands against his chest, where open wounds seeped blood in time with our heartbeat. As I ran my fingers over each cut, the ragged edges slowly closed. I closed my eyes and focused the magick of my arousal into him, visualizing the healing breaks and bruises. His hands found my breasts again, and one slid down to caress my belly and thighs. I whimpered–his attentions were sweet and true, so different from the usual selfish fuck of a cutthroat.
“What manner of pirate were you?” I had to know how such a lovely boy had wound up in such an ugly profession.
“A bad one,” he said with sadness in his voice. “I just wanted to see the world. You were right. I am soft.” A tear formed in the corner of his eye but I wiped it away.
“Softness may be a weakness on land, but here your gentle touch is prized above any hardened cruelty you could perform. I admire a kind man, not an evil one.”
I think he was relieved to be accepted as he was. He grinned a sunny grin and dropped his head back, sliding his hands over me with abandon.