Love Aboard the Priam: Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I am not Stephanie Meyer. I do not own Twilight.

Chapter Ten

Bella’s POV

The fog rolling across the water was so thick, I could only barely make out the bow from the stern. The milky grey smoke concealed the Priam within a sanctuary of sorts. I glanced behind me to find Peter at the helm, seemingly undisturbed by the lack of visibility.

Peter caught me watching him, winking with a sly grin. I blushed and looked away quickly, worried about where my thoughts would go if I continued to watch him. That look in his eye promised trouble, of the most pleasurable variety.

“Ahoy, bantiarna,” Randall crowed, swooping down beside me.

“Randall,” I greeted softly, feeling my blush darken.

“Enjoyin’ distractin’ the Capt’n, are we?” Randall asked, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Of course not. It’s hardly my fault he can’t pay attention to what he’s doing,” I sniffed.

“I think he would disagree with that, bantiarna,” Randall chuckled.

“Oh, I’m certain he would,” I laughed, moving for the stairs to the Quarterdeck.

Peter handed off the helm to Garrett and met me at the top of the stairs.

“Mo bantiarna,” Peter bowed, kissing the back of my hand.

“Mo tiarna,” I curtsied, thrilling at the surprise that flashed across his face.

“Someone has been sneaking around,” Peter accused lightly.

“Maybe a little. Vladimir and Randall have been trying to teach me since you seemed to lack the initiative,” I chided.

“What else have they been teaching you?” Peter asked with a hint of caution.

“Let’s just say I’ll know what you’re saying next time you call me one of the many names you have for me,” I grinned.

“Mo anamachara, finally becoming a part of mo domhan,” Peter smiled softly.

“What does that mean?” I asked curiously.

“My world,” Peter whispered, kissing me sweetly.

I melted against him, feeling his arms wrap around my waist as my found purchase on his shoulders. He pulled me closer, placing chaste kisses on my cheeks, eyelids, and back to my mouth, making me giggle. Peter pulled away slightly, smiling down at my scrunched up nose.

“Captain,” Garrett called somewhat hesitantly.

Peter sighed and leaned his forehead against mine.

“I don’t think Garrett is as comfortable steering through this fog as you are,” I teased.

“Remind me to find a new Quartermaster in Bearsalei,” Peter grumbled.

“No. You would miss him,” I insisted, running my hands across his chest.

“If I’m to steer the ship, you will need to leave. You are entirely too distracting,” Peter accused lightly.

“Very well,” I sighed dramatically.

“Is tú mo ghrá, mo chroí,” Peter murmured, kissing me one last time before moving to take the wheel from Garrett.

“I love you, too,” I smiled, laughing at the wink he shot me over his shoulder.

“Come, bantiarna. It seems we have both been banished from the Quarter Deck,” Randall mock complained.

“Don’t worry, Randall. We’ll go raid the galley and see if Vladimir has any miseáin left,” I insisted brightly.

“I am certain Vladimir will be able to find somethin’ for that sweet tooth of yours,” Randall smirked, linking my arm through his and leading us down to the galley.

“And yours,” I added with a slight huff.

“Of course!” Randall grinned, pulling me along.

“How long until we arrive in Bearsalei?” I asked as we walked down the hallway.

“Soon. The crew has been eager to return. They’ve been workin’ hard in order to arrive sooner,” Randall explained.

“Especially since we were unable to spend the night in Rasop,” I smirked.

“I thought a lady wasn’t supposed to speak of such matters,” Randall pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, clearly, I am no longer a lady. I have been kidnapped and held captive by a swash-buckling pirate and his crew. And, because of this, my reputation is thoroughly in shreds. No proper gentleman would have me now,” I informed him haughtily.

“Perhaps that was always the Capt’n’s plan,” Randall proposed as we walked into the kitchen.

“It would not surprise me,” I mumbled.

The fog had just begun to clear, allowing Peter to leave the helm, when there was a shout from above. The crew eagerly rushed to the side of the ship, trying to squint through the remaining fog to spot the bit of land Benjamin was seeing.

“Come,” Peter insisted from my side, dragging me to the riggings.

Grinning at him over my shoulder, I began climbing, Peter right behind me. Benjamin had walked out along the yard, eagerly pointing into the distance for those below. The Crow’s Nest was small, as most were, barely allowing Peter and I to stand within it.

“Look there,” Peter pointed across my shoulder.

I turned and peered through the lingering fog, spotting a small, dark strip along the horizon.

“What is it?” I asked, curious about whether or not we would be landing there.

“That, mo chroí, is Bearsalei,” Peter informed me, his lips pressing into my neck.

“How long until we reach it?” I asked eagerly.

“By sunset,” Peter answered, trailing his lips to my shoulder.

“Are you excited to be returning home?” I asked, tilting my head to give him greater access.

“I am excited to be taking you to our home. I have waited nine years for this day. There were times I didn’t think it would ever come,” Peter admitted.

“I am sorry,” I sighed, leaning further into his chest.

“Don’t be. You’re here now. And you’ll stay,” Peter smiled against my skin.

I didn’t answer, watching as the land slowly, gradually came closer.

“We should return to the main deck. I don’t want the crew killing each other in their eagerness to be ashore,” Peter teased.

He went down the riggings first, keeping a careful eye on me as I followed. His over-protective nature had me smiling as I carefully maneuvered my way down. I heard his feet hit the deck right before his hands clasped my hips, pulling me off the rigging.

“I need to help Garrett and the crew so we can pull into port. Why don’t you go to our cabin and prepare clothing for the night? I’ll have one of the men get your stuff off tomorrow, but we’ll be spending the next few days unloading the goods from below deck,” Peter suggested.

“I’ll pack some things for you as well,” I offered.

Peter nodded, kissing my forehead in thanks before striding off to help guide the Priam to port. Excitement, the kind that only came with the exploring of new lands, thrummed through my veins as I made my way towards our cabin.

As the Priam made her way into the Bearsalei port, I packed my trunk full of clothing and supplies for both myself and Peter. I threw in a few extras, not wanting to waste the space left available. On top of our clothing for a few days, I also packed all the salves from his desk and the extra knives and pistols he had stored there.

Not knowing what to expect from this place pirates called home, I eagerly and nervously awaited for the Priam to dock. My excitement got the better of me as I heard the shouts of men on the decks, assisting Peter and the crew as they navigated between the planks. Shortly after the ship ground to a halt, the door to the cabin opened to reveal Peter’s smiling face.

“Ready to see your new home?”

Peter’s POV

I nodded to acquaintances as I walked the dusty roads of Bearsalei, Isabella by my side. More than one man stopped and stared as we passed by. I did my best to glare them into submission, fingering my sword meaningfully. None of them paid me any heed, their attention completely riveted on my lady.

Looking down at her, I couldn’t really blame them. As much as I had tried to dissuade her, she was wearing her trousers, her shirt tucked in, one of my belts around her waist. The shirt opened at the top, revealing just a hint of cleavage, enough to drive me nearly mad as I attempted to catch more than a simple glimpse. Her favorite pair of boots added an extra inch to her height, but I still towered over her, as did many other men around us. All in all, she looked sensual and erotic as we passed women in flouncy skirts and dampened corsets. Next to my Isabella, they all looked like common street trash.

Isabella seemed completely oblivious to the attention she was receiving, her eyes alight as she took in the small town off the port. Bearsalei was the most populated port in Champoli, but there were numerous other ports around the kingdom resulting in small populations on the coastline. Bearsalei, which was the largest, paled in comparison to towns such as Arimol in Isopholy, yet Isabella acted as though it were the grandest site she’d ever beheld.

“Is your home located within Bearsalei?” Isabella asked as she peered into the carpenter’s shop.

“Nay. Our home is a few miles inland, though I rarely spend time there,” I answered as we passed by one of the many pubs.

“Where do you usually stay, then?” Isabella inquired, eyeing a drunken man who had his arms around two women, each of them with a hand down the man’s pants.

“At the Savage Rogue,” I told her, steering us away from the small group.

“What is that?” Isabella asked, looking up at me with a small smile.

“A tavern not too far from here. A very good friend of mine owns it,” I explained.

“A friend who isn’t a pirate?” Isabella quipped with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Charlotte hasn’t set foot on a ship since arriving here nearly fifteen years ago,” I informed her with a tap on the nose.

“Charlotte? This friend is a woman?” Isabella questioned slowly.

“Aye, a very good friend,” I agreed, slightly confused.

Isabella didn’t respond, but her brows furrowed as we continued on our way. Her posture straightened and the hand holding onto my arm clenched the fabric of my shirt. I wondered at her sudden flash of anger, but was unable to question her on it as I heard my name being shouted from behind us.

I turned to find Alice racing through the crowd, a wide smile on her face. Isabella looked amused as Alice twirled past a man who had a woman pressed against the side of a building, her skirts bunched about her waist, accidently bumping into them as she passed. The man simply grunted and continued thrusting against his partner.

“Really, the nerve of some people,” Alice tisked as she came to a stop before us.

“When did the Raider arrive in port?” I asked, looking around for Jasper.

“Two days ago. Jasper has been waiting for you to arrive, rather impatiently, I might add,” Alice informed me.

“As if he knows any other way to wait,” I scoffed.

“He can be rather boorish at times, but he often makes up for it later,” Alice smiled brightly.

Isabella snorted indignantly, clearly showing her disagreement.

“Yes, well, he certainly could have made a better impression with you,” Alice admitted.

“I am not entirely certain that’s possible. I find it difficult to believe such a man could be civil in any given circumstance,” Isabella responded icily.

“I can understand your view point, but Jasper really can be kind when he wishes it. It has been a difficult life for him,” Alice frowned.

“Difficulties in life do not allow for lack of respect. Especially towards family,” Isabella bit back.

“You can put your claws away, a leanbh. I have grown up with Jasper’s rather unpleasant disposition. I know how to handle it,” I soothed, patting her hand.

“You should not have to handle it,” Isabella insisted.

“It is the way my brother is. I cannot fault him for it,” I shrugged.

“I still do not like it,” Isabella pouted.

“And you are very sweet for it,” I chuckled, kissing her temple.

Alice looked between the two of us, her eyes lit with excitement as she giddy clapped her hands. Knowing Alice’s penchant for incessant chatter when it came to such feminine matters, I quickly cut her off before she could comment on the gesture.

“I am sorry, Ali, but Isabella and I are off to see Charlotte. We will have to talk later,” I told her.

“Of course. I know she has been anxiously awaiting your return,” Alice nodded in understanding.

Isabella practically began vibrating beside me as she let out what sounded like a hiss.

“Tell Jasper I will be by to see him soon,” I called as we walked off.

“I don’t know who I’m looking forward to seeing more, Jasper or Charlotte,” Isabella snapped sarcastically after we’d been walking for a few moments.

“Why are you reluctant to meet Charlotte?” I asked, already knowing why she didn’t want to see Jasper.

“Forgive me for not wanting your past dalliances shoved in my face,” Isabella spat, her cheeks heated.

I stopped us in the middle of the wooden sidewalk, stunned as I realized my Isabella was jealous. Of Charlotte.  She stood in front of me, her arms crossed angrily across her chest as she glared daggers at me. I reached out to pull her closer, relieved when she didn’t immediately try to pull away.

“Mo chroí, Charlotte is just a friend. We have never been, nor ever will be, involved,” I vowed.

She sniffed, avoiding eye contact as I dragged her closer until she was pressed against my chest, my arms firmly around her waist. Leaning down, I nuzzled her hair, trying to ease her stiff posture.

“I promise you, mo chroí, I have no interest in Charlotte. She could not even hope to compare to you. Though, Garrett might disagree with me on that,” I informed her.

That piqued her interest and she peered up at me.

“She and Garrett are…?” Isabella trailed off.

“They have shared each other’s beds for nearly ten years,” I nodded.

“Why haven’t they married?” Isabella asked, completely unfazed by the information.

“They have no interest in marriage. They are content with the way they are,” I shrugged.

“It probably would have behooved you to tell me that from the beginning,” Isabella drawled.

Placing my hands on her hips, I easily lifted and twirled her around until she was sitting atop a pile of crates outside the barber shop. She laughed delightedly, her hands resting on my shoulders as I stepped between her knees.

“Am I forgiven for my more error in judgement?” I asked teasingly.

“I will have to think on it a little more, but if you are a good lad, I might just find it in myself to forgive you,” Isabella sighed wearily, that beautiful smile still on her face.

“Will a kiss help?” I offered, already leaning forward.

“It might,” Isabella breathed, tilting her head slightly.

My hands clutched at her hips as I swept my lips across hers. She sighed deeply, threading her fingers through my hair as her tongue licked across my top lip. Thoughts faded as I allowed her exploration of my mouth, following her lead as our bodies strained to be closer.

“Oy! If yar gon ta fuck ‘er, bes be getting’ on wit it!” a voice shouted from across the street.

Isabella pulled away quickly, her mouth forming a perfect O as she stared wide-eyed at me. I chuckled and placed one last kiss on her surprised lips before helping her off the crate.

“That man just-“ Isabella started.

“I know, lass,” I interrupted.

“But we weren’t-“ she began again.

“I know, lass,” I repeated.

“But he-“ she tried again.

“I know, lass.”

Bella’s POV

It didn’t take very long for us to arrive at the Savage Rogue after we left the obscene man behind. Peter seemed highly amused at my inability to form a coherent thought, but I had never heard someone speak in such a way before. And in public, no less! Everyone who heard him had turned to look at Peter and I, no doubt hoping for a show.

Even as we walked into the Savage Rogue, there was a woman on her knees, pleasuring a man with her mouth to the cheering and spectacle of several other men. There was very little difference once we entered the tavern. Men and women were spread about the main floor in various states of undress. I quickly looked away after spotting two men sharing a woman, one at her front, one at her back. My hand on Peter’s arm tightened as their grunts and moans reached my ears.

“Peter! It’s about time ya showed yar sorry arse aroun’ here.”

I looked to find a buxom woman with curly red hair and starling blue eyes coming towards us, her arms outstretched towards my pirate. If this was Charlotte, I had very little doubt in Peter’s previous statement that they were only friends. The woman practically oozed sex. Her hips swayed sensuously as she walked across the floor, drawing many male eyes to her. The cut of her dress was so low, I feared her breasts would pop out with each step. I could just see the top of her nipples as it were.

“Sasha, my dear, I am sure you have not suffered too greatly while awaiting my return,” Peter smiled charmingly.

Not Charlotte, but clearly someone he was very familiar with.

“These ruttin’ lads know nothin’ about pleasurin’ a woman. No’ like a real man can,” Sasha purred, running a finger down his arm.

Peter shifted away, clearly uncomfortable with her touch. I bit back a victorious grin when he pulled me closer to him, his arm going around my shoulders.

“Ya replaced me? And wit a girl tryin’ ta look like a boy?” Sasha pouted.

Before Peter could open his mouth to respond, I stepped in front of him defensively.

“Darling, you must understand that Peter prefers women who have at least some class. Honestly, what did you expect? A little tip for next time. Men enjoy a little mystery with their women. If you give it all away, what do they have to look forward to? Between you and me, showing off your tits like that, really doesn’t help your case. In fact, you look like some common street whore. I suggest covering up a bit, unless you enjoy men thinking the only thing you’re good for is lying on your back,” I informed her gently.

“Ya little bitch! I ought ta-“ Sasha began, raising her hand to slap me.

Another hand, a much smaller hand, reached out and grabbed it, pulling Sasha’s arm behind her back.

“What did I tell you about propositioning the men, Sasha! Get out until you can go after men who aren’t already taken,” a sharp voice commanded, propelling the woman out the door.

Peter pulled me to his side, his lips pressed against my temple as I watched a small blond haired woman manhandle the redhead. For such a small woman, she had surprising strength. When she turned to face us, after closing the door behind Sasha, Peter tightened his hold on me.

“I apologize for that, honey. Sasha never was a bright one, but you sure ruffled her feathers,” the woman complimented me.

“Um, thanks,” I said, though it sounded more like a question.

“Mo chroí, meet Charlotte Hale. Charlotte, this is my Isabella,” Peter introduced us.

“Your Isabella, is it?” Charlotte smirked, coming forward and taking my hand.

“Isabella Swan. It’s nice to meet you. Peter’s told me so much,” I greeted her.

“I can assure you, none of it is true,” Charlotte laughed, flipping that nearly white blond hair over her shoulder.

“Char! Don’t tell her I’ve been lying to her,” Peter reprimanded.

“I’m sure everything he’s told you has been completely true. Peter and his crew are the few honest pirates you will ever find,” Charlotte assured me.

“So I’ve noticed,” I admitted, smiling up at Peter.

“Watch it, wench,” Peter warned, nudging me slightly.

“Garrett’s already reserved a room for the two of you for tonight. I had Heidi ready your usual room,” Charlotte told Peter.

“Did one of the crew bring by our trunk?” Peter asked.

“Aye, Randall brought it when he came in,” Charlotte answered.

“Good. He’ll be coming with us when we travel to Granite Hall once the Priam’s unloaded,” Peter nodded.

“Granite Hall?” I questioned.

“Our home,” Peter murmured, kissing my cheek.

“It’s truly beautiful. Peter and the crew built it from the granite stones they imported from the mountains of Shalolie,” Charlotte grinned.

I spun around to look at him, surprised that he had built his home with stones from my homeland. He gave me a sheepish smile and shrugged.

“Once I realized you were from Shalolie, I wanted you to have a piece of it with you when I brought you here. I thought it would make you feel more at home,” Peter explained.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I whispered tearfully, laying a palm on his cheek.

“For you, anything,” Peter stated, turning into my hand to kiss my fingers.

“Careful, there, Captain. You might just ruin your ruthless reputation with the locals,” Charlotte teased.

“I’ll show you ruthless,” Peter grumbled.

“Come on, mo anamachara. I am tired and you still owe me a bath,” I insisted.

“As my lady wishes,” Peter bowed, extending his arm.

I smiled at him brightly, bidding Charlotte goodnight as he led me up the stairs to our room. I followed him down the hallway, to the last door on the left. He opened it with a flourish, stepping aside to let me enter first. I gave him a curious smile as I passed by, but stopped when I saw what was in the room.

He had clearly had someone come in before we’d arrived. There was a tub filled with steaming water, my night shift laid across the bed, candles offering a soft glow, and a fire sparkling in the hearth.

“How did you…?” I trailed off.

“I may have told Garrett you were desperate for a bath. And he may have told Charlotte who may be a little enthusiastic about making you as comfortable as possible,” Peter told me, urging me further into the room.

The door shut behind him, enclosing us in warmth. His hands rested on my shoulders and I leaned against his chest, tilting my head when his lips found my neck.

“You’d best make use of that bath, mo chroí, before the water grows cold,” Peter murmured, unbuckling his belt from around my waist.

“Will you join me?” I asked, lifting my arms as he removed my shirt.

“Ach, aye,” Peter groaned, spreading his hands across my stomach.

His hands slid down, unfastening my trousers and slipping inside. I sighed as he pushed them down my legs, leaving me completely bare. The rough texture of his clothing rubbing against my back proved to be completely erotic as the warmth from the fire caressed my front.

“Come, mo chroí,” Peter cooed, leading me to the tub.

The water gently lapped at the sides of the tub as Peter helped lower me into the tub. I leaned against the edge, watching as his stripped off his trousers and shirt. I mouth watered as his heavy erection sprang free, jutting up towards his stomach. I bit my lip as he walked towards the tub, his step sure and steady. He looked like the world’s deadliest predator, stalking his prey.

I shivered as he moved me forward, using only his hands to position me where he wanted me. His large body made the water rise, some of it falling onto the wooden floor.

“Lean back, lass,” Peter rumbled, his chest vibrating against my back.

I did as he bid, closing my eyes as he poured a pitcher of water on my hair, wetting the dark mass. His fingers massaged soap through the strands causing a moan to escape my throat. His slippery hands slid down to lather my breasts, gently lifting and kneading them. My breath caught in my throat as I eagerly awaited his next move.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Peter instructed, his voice a low growl.

He poured another pitcher of water of my hair, rinsing away the suds. At the same time, his free hand drifted below the water and cupped my slick sex. I whined, desperately seeking some sort of friction to ease the ache building between my legs.

“Always so wet for me,” Peter groaned, slipping a finger inside.

“Peter,” I gasped, moving against him.

“Can you take me, mo chroí?” Peter asked, his voice strained.

“Yes, yes, please,” I begged, spreading my legs for him.

Peter groaned, long and low in my ear, thrusting against my bottom. I gripped the edge of the tub, arching my back as he lifted me over his erection. One of my hands reached down, guiding me inside of me as he slowly lowered me down.

“Oh, God,” I whimpered.

“Easy, lass. Easy,” Peter gritted.

I felt him slide completely inside and moaned as he began lifting me up and down. The water lapped at the side of the tub in time with his thrusts, proving to be the most erotic music.

“I need you to come,” Peter panted, increasing his pace.

“Peter,” I moaned.

“Come, mo chroí. Come for me,” Peter growled, thrusting furiously.

His hand slid around and flicked my clit, making me scream as my entire body erupted in tremors. His roar echoed in the small room as I felt him pulsing within me, his own release powerful.

When the vibrations finally stopped, I collapsed against him, breathing heavily. His arms wrapped around me and he placed gentle kissed along the column of my throat.

“The water’s gone cold,” I noticed.

“Mmm. I hadn’t noticed,” Peter hummed.

“And now?” I asked, shivering slightly.

“Now I see I had better warm you up before you catch a chill,” Peter frowned, lifting me from the tub as he stood.

I squealed, clinging to his neck as he stepped from the tub. He grabbed a fluffy towel and began patting me dry. I giggled as he furiously rubbed at my hair.

“To bed with you, wench,” Peter grinned, slapping at my bottom.

I raced to the bed, squealing against when he pounced on top of me. He laughed as he caged me within his arms, wrapping me in the blankets before falling to my side.

“You, mo anamachara, need sleep,” Peter insisted, moving me so my back was to his front.

I yawned in agreement, feeling deliciously warm and content. Peter curled an arm over my waist, pulling me against him. I snuggled into his warmth, threading our fingers together.

“Soon, I will take you home and we will be wed,” Peter whispered, kissing my ear.

Long after his breathing had evened out, I thought of seeing his home, of a beautiful wedding with all the crew in attendance, a large family and grandchildren, growing old with him by my side, and many, many more years sailing aboard the Priam.

And how heartbroken he would be when he realized none of it could come true.