randomosity | [For Charles Vane] Nights in Nassau

[For Charles Vane] Nights in Nassau

After her first few days in Nassau, Anne stormed out of the pub in a huff, two of Vane's pirates in tow behind her. Guards. Insurance. At least until she could figure out how to properly handle a sword or pistol.

At least with her new wardrobe she didn't look quite so ridiculous as she had when they'd first arrived in Nassau. Charles' clothes were fine but of course they wouldn't be as trendsetting on a lady as Anne would have liked. She'd been able to put together a long skirt, which she'd put a long slit up the front and back so she'd be able to move easier. Pants were something she was still growing accustomed to, but they fit well enough under the long skirt and tucked into a decent pair of black boots. A dark wine-purple shirt covered by a tanned black leather corset finished the outfit she'd so carefully crafted. Hardly the fine silks and velvets she was used to wearing, but still moderately fashionable, and what jewels she'd kept still made her look fair and lovely.

But of course, such a commanding and entitled presence that she brought and maintained had earned her a sharp laugh from the blonde bitch of Nassau, Eleanor Guthrie. A laugh that Anne had answered with a sharp smack to Eleanor's face; but of course, it had only taken a slight curling of her fingers to bring her fine nails to drag over Eleanor's face as she'd struck. Naturally Eleanor's bouncers weren't too keen on that, and the two pirates that had accompanied Anne had urged her to leave before things got too dicey. Reluctantly, Anne had taken their advice.

So they returned, and once back Anne petulantly dropped herself into the first available chair she'd found. Fiddling with her necklace of deep red rubies, Anne pouted. She had hoped to establish some manner of dominance here. In England, in Henry's court, it had been relatively easy; play the part of the obedient young lady for the older nobles who wanted to use her for political gain, play the part of the enchanting seductress and mistress of the night for Henry for her own gain. Manipulating them all - but men were easier to trick than women.

And unfortunately for Anne, it seemed the majority of power here was controlled by women. This would be more difficult than she had anticipated.

Rather than fiddle with her necklace all day and draw attention to one of the few valuables that remained to her, Anne took a dagger that she'd lifted off some poor drunk her first night in Nassau, and turned it over in her hands. Examining her reflection in the blade.

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Anne tilted a brow, fighting an internal struggle. She didn't want to show her hand and make herself vulnerable. So she refused to answer.

She would certainly use the possibility to her advantage if necessary with Eleanor, but Anne didn't intend to pursue the possibility recreationally. No matter how amused Charles might have been.

Anne pouted at his response and sat back in her chair, bringing a finger up to twirl around a lock of her hair. The other hand trailed a couple fingers along his inner thigh.

"Two it is. But for the first, I want both fingers and tongue," Anne's father was a thrifty, greedy man. He had passed on his haggling techniques to his son, and his younger daughter when he thought she wasn't listening.

Truth be told, Charles didn't find much to object to when it came to the idea of Anne staking some kind of claim on him. She was a clever woman, beautiful, and far more of a beast in bed than he could ever have anticipated, which meant he was as content with the situation as he was like to ever be. The idea of another man having his way with Anne sat just as ill with him as he expected the reverse was with her.

Anne responded to his counter-offer, and the captain nodded. Barter and haggle were as natural to a pirate as they were to any fishmonger on the street, and the terms were certainly agreeable.

"Then raise your skirts and get comfortable, your majesty, and let me at that cunny."

Anne smirked at his words. She loved it when he called her 'your majesty' the words flowed off of his tongue like fine wine. Anne reached down slowly and lifted her skirts inch by inch. She brought them up to her mid-thigh, showing off her slender body and creamy skin.

"As you command, captain," she purred.

Her hands couldn't keep to themselves, it seemed. While he moved closer to her, Anne let her fingers drag down along his leg, pressing against his inner thigh. She did feel possessive of him, but rather than say so, she intended to show it.

Charles' tongue slid out to wet his lips, by now an instinctual reaction to the promise of getting another taste of Anne's delectable body. She was lithe and fair and, in her somehow elegant way, as wanton as any whore he'd ever met, and the combination made him burn.

Crouching down before her, Charles ducked his head beneath her skirt and took one long, slow lick of her pussy before beginning to lap at her quickly. After a minute or two of warming her up, he slid his hand up one creamy thigh to let his index finger tease at her entrance before slipping inside of her.

Anne loved how Charles looked at her. She loved seeing his hungry gaze - and how when he wanted her, he took her. So long as she obliged. No games, no political chess matches. Just the two of them. It was a kind of primal claiming that made her feel wanted and warm.

He was strong in a way Henry wasn't. He was crafty, he was... He was Charles Vane.

When he ducked beneath her skirts and licked along her soft, wet entrance, Anne gasped sharply. Her fingers stroked over his dreadlock mane and gripped slightly, though not enough to inhibit him in any way. The lapping of his tongue over her lower lips had her trembling. So when his one finger penetrated her, Anne gasped again in arousal and her back arched in pleasure.

Charles knew that pleasuring a woman like this was something he'd gained a considerable amount of skill at and, after crossing the ocean, he knew that Anne was thoroughly familiar with his abilities, as well. So he'd haggled on the terms mostly out of form, since he'd also gained a fair liking for the taste of Queenly cunt, and enjoyed going down on Anne until she came screaming.

The fingers in his hair made it clear that she was enjoying herself already thanks to the attentions of Charle's tongue and finger. He was stroking the digit long and deep inside of her as he licked around her slit, finally centering on the swollen bead at the apex of her entrance. Charles sealed his lips around Anne's clit and sucked at the same time he pushed a second finger inside of her.

Sometimes Anne found it surreal that she was here. She half expected to wake up from some vivid dream or fantasy, back in England in her plush palace bed. But to her delight, she had traded in such a bed for a much harder and less comfortable bunk aboard the Ranger...but with a much more suitable bedmate included. Charles' expertise in how he put his tongue to work for more than just compliments and pretty words surprised and delighted Anne. He curled and flicked his tongue at just the right angles at just the right moments. She swore he could read her mind.

Of course he wasn't the only one who had put their mouth to work - Anne may have been a Queen, but she was not above getting on her knees for Charles to put her own tongue and hot, wet mouth to work getting him off. The louder she could get him to moan, and even if she could get him to cry out her name as he came, the more prestigious her victory. At least in her mind.

As Charles' finger explored her insides and his tongue continued its work licking and lapping at her folds, Anne could feel her clit throbbing. Pulsing in arousal. As he centered on it, focusing all his efforts upon it and letting his hot, wet tongue graze over it and his lips suckle and squeeze around it, Anne gasped aloud and her grip slightly tightened in his hair. Her body began to tremble and her breath shortened in her chest, making her breasts heave up and down with each breath. She felt her core beginning to tighten and squeeze.

When he pushed in that second finger, Anne's eyes widened and her back arched.

Anne's wanton spirit and ready willingness to to give as good as she got when they had sex continued to surprise and impress Charles all the way across the ocean. He'd never once imagined that such a high born lady would have such a sex fiend hidden inside of her, and he was having the time of his life drawing that side of her out and encouraging it with every possible opportunity.

By now, he knew the woman's body well enough to recognize the signs of her oncoming climax. Charles kept up his assault of pleasure on her, stroking his fingers deep into her pussy while sucking hard on her clit, knowing that the combination had always pushed her over the edge before.

He was soon rewarded with the sudden arch of her back. His efforts didn't slow, though, wanting to prove his point as thoroughly as he could, wanting to prolong and intensify the orgasm as much as he could.

For a good portion of her life, Anne had been told what to do, how to behave and how to dress. She was happy to have found a niche with Charles, and a common spirit with him - one of freedom and desire and conquest - in all things, in the bedroom and beyond.

Anne bit her lower lip, an attempt to distract herself from her oncoming orgasm with pain. To no avail. The constant pressure of his mouth on her clit with his fingers slipping inside and stroking her - it was too much, she couldn't handle it all at once.

Her core squeezed and grew tense - tight as a bowstring. Heat filled her core, blazing hotter and harder. Anne lifted her hips a bit, giving him a new angle. But it wasn't long before she was quaking beneath him. All that heat and tension suddenly burst and she came against the efforts of his mouth and fingers. Anne moaned aloud, and his name poured off her lips in a reverent whisper as her orgasm rushed through her body.

The days of a trans-Atlantic voyage are long and empty, even on a ship that requires constant tending, and so he and Anne really have done more than simply fuck one another endlessly. They've spoken, as well, and so now he knows her story and, despite his natural reticence to open up, Anne knows his. And while the slavery of his youth was more literal and harsher, they're both very much cut from the same cloth.

Once Anne topples over, Charles doesn't let up until he can feel her body sinking back down to Earth. He leans back, at last giving her swollen clit some respite, but his fingers remain inside her heat, stroking slowly, keeping the embers glowing.

"One," he announces firmly.

Anne had been honored and even a little touched when Charles had opened up to her. That he had chosen to share his history with her. Based on his personality and how he carried himself, Anne would never have guessed that he had been enslaved in his youth. She had felt for him then, sympathized with him - but not precisely pitied him. Anne knew he probably would not have appreciated pity.

But it built her appreciation and even admiration of him. To say nothing of her trust.

She in turn had entrusted him with her own story - though hers was not so harsh as Charles' had been. Anne had grown up high-born and well provided for; but she had been a virtual servant, and her father had pimped her and her sister Mary out to the other lords; highest born to gain benefits and prestige to the Boleyn clan.

This life, though not as comfortable, was so much better.

When he kept his fingers inside; keeping her filled and her core taut, Anne couldn't help but sigh again in arousal. She looked down to him as he announced the first orgasm and chuckled softly.

"One indeed. And one more to go."

As loath as he was to trust most people, Vane still knew the value of having people he could rely on and predict. While many pirates were expert deceivers, Charles had learned how to root them out. Even with all of Rackham's scheming, he always knew how to pique his interest into toeing the line.

Knowing Anne's story convinced him she was the kind who could be trusted and relied upon.

Charles nodded from between her legs. "Yes indeed. And I think we'll begin right away, shall we?" Without another word of warning, his fingers began again, thrusting deep into Anne's pussy. "I haven't shown you this one, yet..." With his free hand, Vane pressed down against her body, just above where his fingers were flying. That done, he curled the fingers inside of Anne, searching for a spot he'd learned of during his voyages but had never found the opportunity to try.

Anne was glad Charles trusted her, and even after only being in Nassau for so long, she saw how the other pirates reacted to his name and to those who sailed under his colors. He was respected; feared. All she could do was thank her lucky stars and the powers that be she had been captured by Charles Vane and not someone else. He respected her, and she appreciated that.

The lack of warning made Anne cry out sharply as he began thrusting his fingers so relentlessly inside her. She almost didn't hear his words - but then they resonated in her mind; what hadn't he shown her?? The pressure of his hand against her was unexpected, but combined with his fingers probing her inside, they sandwiched her most sensitive spot. Anne's jaw dropped open but her voice completely failed her.

Sparks shot through her core and up her spine, making her arch her back as she moaned aloud for him. Her fingers grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be the table, and dragged her nails over it as her pleasure overwhelmed her. Anne's breath instantly became ragged in her chest, making her breasts heave with each shaky breath.

"Don't stop...don't stop- right there!" She whimpered. So soon after her first orgasm and already he was overwhelming her with pleasure once again.

It was true that had Anne's ship been taken by any other pirate, things might not have gone nearly as well as they had. Either she would have been simply shut away and ransomed off to Henry, or the captain and crew would have had their way with her and her ladies, then thrown the bodies overboard. Instead, Charles had seen potential and had not wasted it, and they had both profited greatly so far.

As he worked at her, the fingers inside of her core rubbing and stroking against a small patch of flesh within Anne that he'd seen undo every woman he'd ever given the treatment. Charles watched the woman's face twist into a mask of overwhelming pleasure and smiled arrogantly. He knew damn well what he could do with a woman's body, and today Anne was getting a taste of one of his most potent tricks.

"Oh no, your highness. No stopping. No stopping until you can't take it anymore and you beg me to."

It was potential that Anne herself had never known she had. Charles challenged her, praised her, infuriated her, exalted her - but even at the lowest moments, Anne couldn't help loving every minute of it.

She felt his fingers working inside her, pressed tight against her soft spot and making her whole body tense. Anne arched her hips a little, desperate for release and relief from the tension he was building within her. Anne moaned and whined, feeling heat blazing inside her and ready to burst. She mumbled all manner of praise in English and French, her mind clouded in lust. His own voice, dark and raspy, had a way with making her mad with desire.

"So close..." She gasped, feeling a sudden spark rush up her core. Another few passes of his fingers, and she knew she'd come undone.

For his part, Vane knew that he'd gotten very, very lucky. For all he knew, what he'd seen in Anne beyond her beauty and how much he'd enjoyed bedding her could have been wishful thinking on his part. The captain counted himself fortunate that it wasn't so.

His eyes were burning with intensity as he watched Anne climbing faster towards the peak of pleasure. His fingers worked that soft, sensitive spot inside her pussy while his other hand maintained the pressure that would keep that contact the whole time. Soon, he knew from Anne's noises that she had reached the precipice.

His fingers pumped a few more times, and as the coup de grace, Charles leaned in and sucked hard on her clit.

The continued pumping and stroking of his fingers inside her set Anne's entire body on fire. She moaned and arched her body, finally tumbling over into orgasm when he leaned in and sucked at her clit. He was too good at this. He overwhelmed her.

And with such minimal effort.

Anne felt her core suddenly release in a rush of carnal delight. Her fluids dripped from her core and along his mouth and chin as she came hard. Anne let her fingers squeeze and tug gently at his hair. For a long while her body quaked from the force of her climax, and she breathed heavily, letting her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath again.

Charles drank deep as Anne flooded his mouth with enough of her nectar to run down his chin, a sure sign that he'd given the woman the kind of climax she wouldn't be forgetting for a very long time. He grinned as he lapped at her, now at an almost lazy, relaxed pace as Anne slowly descended from whatever heights the orgasm had taken her to.

When her body went calm-- limp and boneless, really, or so Charles suspected-- he withdrew his fingers and stood, stretching out above the dark-haired beauty with the flushed face, and crushed his mouth to hers, letting Anne taste the fruits of his labors.

Anne breathed heavily as she came down from her orgasm. Still, when he slipped his fingers out of her, Anne took a deep breath, feeling tingling sensations roll through her core.

She hadn't expected to have him so suddenly kiss her, but she wasn't about to pull away. Anne parted her lips to deepen the kiss, tasting herself on his lips. It was a strange taste, but combined with his own taste and the sensation of his lips pressed so tight against hers, it was incredible. Anne's fingers pushed through his hair to hold him in close, and to again deepen the kiss.

Charles was impressed. He'd done the same to other women in the past and they'd been repulsed by the idea of tasting their own juices (though none had complained about him getting them off beforehand, he noted). Anne was clearly surprised, but her lust seemed to win out, and she kissed him back with plenty of enthusiasm.

When the two of them finally broke to breathe, Charles looked back at the woman with one of his particularly smug expressions. "Guess I won."

She had told him to use his mouth to please her, how could she in the same breath or the same motion refuse a kiss after he'd so deftly obliged? Besides, when it came right down to it, Charles was quite possibly the best and most passionate kisser Anne had ever encountered. She wasn't about to turn down a kiss from him unless circumstances were extreme - such as her incurred fury.

When he pulled back and made his declaration, Anne smirked and brought up two fingers to playfully and lightly scratch under his chin. "I believe the bargain was that at least one orgasm had to come from that cock of yours," she pointed out.

Not that she was complaining about the two orgasms he'd already pulled from her. Not in the slightest! "And is it really about winning? As I recall it was a bargain struck, not a bet." Though she did enjoy gambling, and was rather good at playing cards, much to her brother's annoyance. He'd lost many a coin and fine jewel to his elder sister after teaching her how to play.

Charles tilted his head, running back through their conversation as though he were scanning through a book for a particular passage. "Not exactly how I recall the terms," he replied, "but I can't say as I'd likely to ever turn down the opportunity to make you come on my cock."

He shrugged at Anne's further explanation. "Oh, Your Majesty, it is always about winning, somehow. It's just that under the best circumstances, everyone wins." Charles pushed at her skirts again, returning them to their place exposing the dark-haired beauty from the waist down.

Charles unbuckled his belt, then quickly loosened the laces of his trousers, pushing them just far enough off his hips to let his hard, heavy cock swing free. He lined himself up with Anne's entrance and, knowing first hand just how wet she was, slid himself home inside her with one thrust.

Anne chuckled, either way she got what she wanted; ever the spoiled queen. She may have surrendered her vast array of jewels and fine gowns, even her ruling scepter, but her attitude had been with her long before she'd been crowned. It wasn't about to change. And oh, how she loved it when he called her 'your majesty' - the very words from his gravelly tone could set her to purring in that very instant.

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied coyly as he pushed up her skirts. She enjoyed a good game as much as anyone else - she could abide by such rules.

When he slid his cock out of his trousers it was hard to resist the temptation to let her fingers play with it. But before she even had the opportunity, he'd slid inside her with such ease and strength. Feeling him pierce so deep inside her, Anne couldn't help gasping and bringing her hands up to squeeze his arms. Her walls quickly clamped around his length, squeezing tight - still recovering from her initial orgasms.

It had come to pass that Anne was precisely the woman that Charles needed in his life, though he'd never once in all his days predicted any such thing. He'd thought that willing whores and other wantons would be all that would be required once things with Eleanor had fallen apart. Instead, fate had delivered him a wanton and a partner all in one.

Charles set aside any further contemplation on the subject in the moment before his cock slid home inside of Anne's pussy. The woman's sheath clutched at his shaft with a fierce, hot grip, sopping wet with her juices. "Fuck..." he hissed, as the root of his shaft pressed against her folds for a moment before he began to rock his hips.

It was an equal partnership in that regard. Charles was just the crass, strong, ravenous man Anne had never known she needed. He apparently took no issue calling her out in error, or telling her when she was out of line - she needed that, even if she didn't always like it. Henry had been strong, he had protected her...when it suited him. But soon enough he'd lost interest in her as a bedmate. It didn't seem that Charles would follow that same pattern. Their appetites seemed to match in pace in that regard.

Even the sensation of just having him inside her could have driven her to climax again. Feeling him begin a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of her over and over again, Anne cried out softly. Sparks of arousal shot through her - tingling heat began to build within her. "God, yes-!" she moaned. Her back arched, pressing herself tighter against him. Her chest was flush against his, and Anne moved to kiss him hard.

No problem! Work's especially busy this week so I absolutely get it

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