#sturmhond

But Sturmhond always deflects with humour so quickly you can never be too sure that something did actually happen. You've learned not to expect anything more from the privateer.

It's a peaceful day, the sea calm and wind gentle. The ship arrives out of nowhere, carrying a storm with it, herded across the waves by grisha. It pulls alongside, cannons drawn before you can start barking commands to the crew.

Sturmhond leaps into action, calling all crew to their battle stations and readying the multitude of weapons bolstered to the ship. You throw a pistol his way, and he passes you a dagger back, each knowing the preferred weapon of the other.

The Volkvolny is overtaken, grisha flying in from above and landing on the deck already swinging. The storm they brought with them batters the wood, causing slippages and falls from all the crew, the rain soaking into clothes and seeping cold into skin.

Your dagger drives through flesh again and again, bullets whizzing past your head as you duck. But through the chaos, you still seek out your captain, your Sturmhond, across the deck fighting his own battle. You focus on another pirate as Sturmhond's attention turns to you, eyes locking onto your body.

Without realising it, you've been fighting to get to one another the entire time, the pirates and grisha between you standing no chance. When you finally crash together, back to back, there's a sigh of relief that passes between you.

Sturmhond shouts over his shoulder, over the sounds of fighting and waves crashing and wind whistling. "Are you alright!?"

"I'm fine! Are you?" You yell back.

Before he can answer, there's another wave of attackers and you're pulled apart. There's a rhythm between you that you've perfected over the years. He parries, you strike. He dodges, you cover. The two of you move as though tethered by instinct, a dance you never needed to rehearse.

There's a second where your eyes connect aver the battle and Sturmhond yells, "I love you!"

The words don't register for a second but when the do, you freeze, dagger loose in hand. "What?"

"I love you!"

The butt of a rifle is jammed into your temple, knocking you sideways as the white-hot pain engulfs your head. There's another shout from Sturmhond but the world is spinning.

Another attacker charges, Sturmhond lifts his pistol, fires point-blank without even looking away from you. The body falls, but his gaze never leaves your face. Around you, the battle still rages, but for him, the world has collapsed into this single point.

You. He has to get to you.

Unfortunately for him, someone else gets there first. They slap a pair of handcuffs around your wrists, pulling you backwards as your body gives up on consciousness.

When you wake the world is swirling and rocking back and forth. It's cold and damp still, your clothes sitting slick against your skin. The air smells of salt, metal, and fear. Shadows of bars and ropes play across the walls, and every creak of the ship makes your hearts skip.

Sturmhond sits against the wall opposite you, casual as ever in posture, but his eyes are sharp, scanning you as if to make sure you’re unharmed. There’s no pretence now. He notices you're awake, pulling at his own chains to get closer to you.

"Hey, take it easy. They hit you pretty hard."

You think your brain is messing with you. Because Sturmhond is in chains, sitting across from you, captured. "What are you doing here?"

You notice he isn’t pacing, plotting, or trying to escape. Instead, he sits calmly, almost smug. Your confusion breaks first as he gives a small, crooked grin. "I suppose I'm a fool for letting them take me too. But I can't very well leave my favourite distraction alone in a cell, can I?"

You blink, trying to piece together the fragments of the fight, the capture, the words he yelled over the storm. I love you.

Your wrists ache against the manacles as you drag yourself upright. "You-you let them take you?" Your voice cracks, more from disbelief than the blow to your head.

He leans back against the damp planks, tilting his head with that infuriating half-smile. "Oh, come now. Don’t look so surprised. I couldn’t very well leave you in the clutches of a bunch of amateurs, could I?"

"I don’t need a babysitter." The protest feels weak.

"You’re not my soldier right now," he says softly, and the humour thins. "You’re… you."

Silence stretches. The rocking of the ship makes the shadows sway across his face. You see him pull at his chains once more, not to escape, but just to inch closer, like gravity’s working between you.

"What you said," you whisper. "On the deck. You-"

"I meant it," he cuts in before you can finish. His voice is low but certain, without the lilt of irony or mischief. "Every word. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, but you make it remarkably difficult."

You stare at him. "I thought it was just… flirting. That you were just-"

"Deflecting," he admits with a rueful smile. "If I joke about it, it’s not real. If it’s not real, it can’t ruin what we already have. Clever, isn’t it?"

Your heart thuds painfully. You remember the moment on deck, how your hand went slack around the dagger, how his eyes found you even as the world burned around you. "You distracted me," you murmur, head pounding. "That’s why I got caught. Because I was thinking about you instead of the fight."

He chuckles faintly, but it’s raw, not amused. "Then we’re even. You’ve been distracting me for years." His eyes are fierce now, more storm than sea. "And still, I’d rather be chained in this hellhole with you than free without you. Understand that?"

Something loosens in your chest at the words, even as the danger around you presses in. You swallow, lips curling into a half-smile despite the situation. “As romantic as that is, please tell me you have a plan to get out of here."

He grins back, but there’s a tremor in it.

Above you, boots thunder against the deck. The enemy ship creaks as someone shouts orders. The world is still perilous, but here in this cramped cell it feels like a pocket of clarity, a confession carved out of chaos. His knee brushes yours as he shifts closer, and neither of you pulls away.

"...I have a plan."

You nod once, letting your eyes slip shut to rest for a moment, "Tell me again," you whisper.

His smile softens. "I love you," he says quietly this time, as if the words are a secret between you instead of a battle cry.

The sound of boots pounding overhead grows louder. The enemy has realized the two of you are awake, and panic ignites in your chest. Sturmhond’s hand twitches near the chains, his jaw tight. "Stay close to me," he whispers, already calculating. "We’ll need a miracle... or our crew."

Almost on cue, the hull shudders as an explosion rocks the deck above. A shadow moves across the grated floor above the cell. Before you can blink, a rope is thrown through the barred window.

The door bursts open in a violent swing, splinters flying. Your first thought is relief, then action. Crew members fling themselves into the fray, fists, daggers, and pistols clashing with the enemy guards.

One by one, chains are shot, sawed, or smashed away.

Sturmhond doesn’t waste a second. Even with his bonds just freed, he sweeps you into a protective stance, pistol drawn, dagger flashing. "I’ve got you!" he shouts, just as a guard lunges at you from the shadows.

You duck under the swing of a sword, Sturmhond spins, kicking another attacker off balance, firing a pistol point-blank. His eyes never leave yours. For him, the chaos is secondary, you are all that matters.

You stand a little unsteady still but the crew moves like a well-oiled machine. Some tackle enemies on the upper deck, others swing from ropes to take out the sentries. One of them shouts, "We’ve got the captain and first mate! Clear the way!"

Rain pelts the deck, mixing with saltwater and blood. The storm still thrashes outside, wind ripping at sails, waves slamming against the hull. But amid it, the crew forms a protective wall, a living shield between you and the enemy.

A particularly large guard comes at you from behind. Sturmhond grabs a rope dangling from the ceiling and swings into him, sending the man crashing into the railing. He lands beside you with a laugh, though it’s edged with desperation.

"I told you they couldn’t resist a dramatic entrance!"

You try to stop yourself from laughing, not welcoming the sting it brings, though adrenaline makes your limbs feel like fire. "They didn’t expect us to be… alive," you gasp, rolling past another attacker to your feet.

Through the cacophony, you hear Sturmhond call out to the crew. "Cover the exit! Let's move out- NOW!"

The two of you sprint through the corridor, back-to-back, instinctually knowing each other’s movements. Bullets whistle past, a sword grazes your shoulder, but the rhythm you’ve perfected over years kicks in automatically. Parry, strike, dodge, cover, tethered by instinct and, now, by confession.

Finally, the last enemy is down. Your crew secures the deck, and the ropes to the Volkvolny are thrown over the side. Sturmhond grabs your hand. "Ready?" he shouts.

"Always," you reply, gripping his hand tightly.

You swing together into the stormy night, hearts pounding, soaked to the bone, adrenaline singing in your veins. The enemy ship recedes behind you, cannon fire and shouts fading, leaving just the roar of the sea and the safety of your ship, and each other.

You turned to face him, taking in his ruggedly, slightly scared, handsome features. A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you, his arm still resting on your shoulder.

"I… I was hoping to clear my head," You replied, barely above a whisper. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him despite not knowing him for long, despite the danger he represented. There was something about him that both excited and terrified you. "I've never been on a ship before... It's... Daunting... And I can't sleep"

The Stermhond chuckled, a low, sensual sound that made your heart race, his bold red hair framing his face a little, contrasting against his beautiful green eyes. "And what thoughts were troubling you so, little one? Perhaps I could provide a more… stimulating distraction."

"Is that an offer?" You teased, a coy smile playing across your lips. Despite everything you knew about pirates, or privateers, as he called himself, there was an undeniable allure to this man. His rough edges called out to the adventurous spirit inside you. "Because it seems like you're rather good at making them but would you be able to keep up?"

The Stermhond grinned, a playful glint sparking in his vibrant green eyes as he leaned in closer, bringing his face mere inches away from yours. He smelled like sea air and something undeniably masculine that made your knees weak. "Why, little one, when it comes to distractions, I'm an expert," He murmured, his voice a rich baritone that sent a thrilling shiver down your spine.

At that moment, surrounded by the endless blue expanse, the thrill of the unknown, and the intoxicating presence of this pirate, you felt a hunger stirring within you, a primal urge to surrender to the wildness that dwelled in these waters and in the man standing before you.

His breath ghosted over your skin, sending tingles racing through your body. You could almost taste the salt on his lips, the promise of adventure and forbidden pleasure hanging heavy in the salty air between you. His hand slid from your shoulder to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "Tell me, sweet thing, what sort of distraction do you crave?" The Stermhond purred, his thumb stroking your lower lip as he waited for your response, emerald eyes burning with desire.

You kissed him hard, standing on your toes, as your lips met his, a growl of approval rumbled in his chest. The kiss was fierce, passionate, and filled with an unspoken promise of untamed pleasures yet to come. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him, your breasts pressing against his firm chest.

He began to peel off his layers, revealing muscles earned from the life at sea, each layer discarded leaving you wanting more. The sight of his muscular torso sent a jolt of arousal coursing through your veins.

With surprising strength, the Stermhond hoisted you on a single arm, breaking the kiss only momentarily as he walked back to his quarters inside his ship. Once inside his quarters, he tossed you onto the soft bedding, the motion, paired with the ship's movement causing you to bounce enticingly as you landed. With a predatory grin, he towered over you, his towering frame casting a shadow across your curves.

He pulled you up, singlehandedly undoing your corset, pulling your dress as he kissed you roughly, he wanted to hear his name from you, but his identity was too big a secret, "I want you moaning 'Nik' as I fuck you." As he spoke those words, pressing into you fully, adrenaline coursed through your veins, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. His rough kisses left you breathless, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if committing it to memory.

With a swift tug, he removed your remaining garments, exposing your bare body to the cool air of the cabin. The contrast of warmth and cold made your skin prickle, heightening your senses. He wasted no time in lowering his mouth to your breasts, taking a nipple between his lips and sucking hungrily.

You let out a gasp as he effortlessly undid your corset, pulling your dress down to reveal your cotton garments underneath. His touch was possessive, claiming every part of you as his own. His words echoed in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "Nik…" You whimpered, feeling his hardness press against you through your clothing. The thought of being taken by him was both terrifying and exhilarating.

His calloused fingers trailed over your soft skin, tracing the curve of your waist and hips before settling on the apex of your thighs. He stroked your slick folds, teasing your sensitive bud as he watched your face contort with pleasure. "So responsive already," he mused, relishing how easily he could stoke the flames of your desire.

His fingers circled and rubbed, building delicious pressure as you writhed beneath him. You arched your back, pushing your breasts further into his hungry mouth as you gasped and moaned his name.

"Please," you panted, desperate for relief from the building tension. "More…"

With a wicked grin, he started to kiss down your body, kissing his way down your quivering stomach, he settled between your legs, spreading them wide to grant him unfettered access to your most intimate area. His hot breath fanned over your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. He licked along your slit, tasting your sweetness, before focusing on your throbbing clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

He descended upon your cunt, his tongue delving deep to lap at your slick folds. He groaned at the taste of your arousal, savouring the tangy sweetness as he explored every crevice. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open for his ravenous ministrations.

He flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit, the stimulation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. At the same time, he thrust two fingers into your tight channel, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot inside that made your legs quiver.

"Nnngh, yes!" you cried out, your nails digging into his scalp as he worked you over with relentless fervour. The dual assault of his mouth and fingers had you teetering on the brink of climax, your inner walls clenching around his digits in anticipation.

He continued his oral assault, alternating between long licks and focused attention on your swollen nub. Your juices coated his chin as he lapped at your essence, the obscene sounds filling the cabin mixing with your increasingly loud moans.

As your peak approached, he doubled his efforts, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking it mercilessly with his tongue while pumping his fingers faster, deeper, determined to make you fall apart on his mouth.

"NIK!" Your cries reached a fever pitch as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls spasming around his plunging fingers. He worked you through it, prolonging your ecstasy until you collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting.

As you rode out the aftershocks, gasping for air, he slowly withdrew his slick fingers, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean, savouring the taste of you. "Mmm, you taste divine," The privateer hummed.

Rising above you, Sturmhond captured your lips in a searing kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He settled himself between your thighs, grinding his thick cock against your quivering cunt. You could feel how hard he was, how much he wanted you.

Breaking the kiss, he gazed down at you with raw, animalistic lust blazing in his eyes. In one smooth motion, he pushed himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his girth. A low groan escaped him at the sensation of your heat enveloping him so perfectly.

Your cries echoed throughout the ship, a lewd symphony that only added to the eroticism of the moment. Each thrust of his cock sent vibrations through your body, amplifying the sensations. You could feel every vein, every ridge of his shaft buried deep within you, stretching you to accommodate his size.

"I'm going to ruin you for other men," He growled as he drew back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing pace as he took you hard and fast, the slap of skin against skin ringing out in the small space. "You'll only be mine."

Your moans increased in the wooden walls as he pounded into you relentlessly, the force of his thrusts making the bed creak ominously. Each plunge of his cock seemed to strike that magic spot deep inside, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves.

The privateer's grunts grew louder, more bestial, as he chased his own release. He hooked your knees over his elbows, angling you to take him even deeper, the head of his cock slamming against your cervix with each brutal stroke.

"Nik! Nik! Oh gods, yes!" you wailed, your voice hoarse from screaming. Your nails scored down his back as he ravaged you, the pain only serving to heighten your pleasure. The intense pleasure triggered your next climax, sending you spiraling into yet another mind-shattering orgasm. Your inner walls clenched and rippled around his cock, milking him for all he was worth.

As he stayed inside you for a long while, he pinched and pulled at your clit to make you cum on his cock, your juices gushing out and coating his shaft as he rolled his hips, grinding against you to prolong both your orgasms, your brain turning mushy from the overstimulation. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he shuddered and jerked above you. He bit down on your shoulder, panting heavily, he collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you both struggled to catch your breaths. After a moment, he lifted his head to gaze down at you, a satisfied smirk playing about his lips. "Still think I can't keep up?"

Sturmhond's movements became erratic, driven by primal instinct as he neared his climax. His cock swelled within you, his balls tightening in preparation for release. He leaned down, capturing your lips once more in a bruising kiss, muffling your screams as another powerful orgasm tore through you simultaneously with your last one. He roared your name like a battle cry, his seed spurting into you in hot, pulsing jets.

"Not bad for an old man," You panted, a mischievous glint in your eye despite your exhaustion. Your words seemed to ignite something within him, a renewed surge of energy and lust. With a growl, he flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up to present yourself to him. His hand cracked across your ass, the sharp sting quickly followed by soothing caresses.

"You're playing with fire, little girl, besides, I'm only two years older than you." He warned, landing another hard spank, watching his cum spurt out of your cunt with each impact. He spread your cheeks, exposing your dripping cunt to his hungry gaze. Leaning in, he dragged his tongue through your slick folds, savouring the musky flavour of your cum mixed with his own seed.

His fingers probed your stretched opening, scooping up the creamy fluid before bringing it to his lips for a taste. "Mmm, look at you…so messy, so dirty…" He murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "I'm going to have to punish this naughty cunt."

Without warning, he plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your soaked heat, curling them to rub that sensitive spot inside. His thumb found your clit, circling it firmly as he finger-fucked you with ruthless intensity.

You whined with your face pressed into the pillow, sound muffled as you screamed in pleasure. His rough handling sent waves of bliss coursing through your body, rendering you utterly helpless beneath him. You could do nothing but accept his brutal fucking, the slap of flesh echoing in the room with each powerful thrust of his fingers.

"Oh gods, yes! More!" You begged, your hips bucking back against his hand, seeking more of that exquisite torture. The feeling of being so thoroughly taken, so completely fucked, drove you wild with desire.

"That's it, take it like the desperate slut you are." He growled, adding all four fingers to your already stuffed cunt, thumb still massaging your swollen clit. The stretch burned so good, pushing you right to the edge of too much. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he scissored his fingers inside you, spreading you open wider.

Tears streamed down your face from the overwhelming stimulation, drool pooling on the pillow below. Your entire body shook and twitched with pleasure, your mind hazing over with pure lust. He worked you closer and closer to another explosive climax, the pressure building in your core to unbearable levels.

His relentless assault on your cunt pushed you over the brink, your body convulsing as another orgasm ripped through you. Your inner walls clamped down on his invading fingers, rhythmically squeezing them as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.

As you came undone beneath him, squirting your release all over his hand and the bed, he continued his merciless fingering, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of your quivering cunt, drawing out your pleasure until you were a boneless, trembling mess. Finally, he slowed his movements, gentling his touch as he coaxed you through the final tremors. Only when your body went limp did he finally withdraw his drenched digits, admiring the sight of your gaping, twitching hole left behind.

With a wicked grin, he dived back into pleasuring your sensitive cunt. His tongue lapped at your wetness, savouring every drop of your sweet cum. He focused especially on your throbbing clit, flicking it mercilessly with his tongue.

He licked and sucked at your sensitive flesh, alternating between broad strokes and teasing flicks, keeping you balanced precariously on the knife's edge of sensation.

"Too much," You cried out, buckling your hips as he held them still, it felt like you could cum from a single touch by him, "Ah-"

Your legs began to tremble, threatening to give out entirely if not for his firm grip on your hips. He could feel you teetering on the brink again, your body tensing, preparing for another shattering climax. With a final, hard suck on your clit, he sent you hurtling over the precipice once more, your vision whiting out as rapture consumed you.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and shuddering helplessly beneath him. He rode out the aftershocks with you, his tongue never ceasing its relentless assault on your oversensitive clit until you were a whimpering, spent mess.

Finally, he pulled back, giving your abused clit one last tender lick before crawling up your body to claim your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved deep, tasting himself on your tongue, mingling with the remnants of your own arousal.

Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and a hint of cruel amusement. "So many orgasms in one session? That's impressive," He mused, wrapped an arm around you.

His laughter rumbled through his chest as he gathered you close when he noticed your dropping eyes, tired, your sweaty bodies pressing together intimately. He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so that you lay draped across his broad frame. One large hand stroked idly along your spine while the other tangled in your damp hair, gently massaging your scalp. For several long moments, you simply lay there, basking in the afterglow. Gradually, your breathing slowed, and heart rates returning to normal, eyes dropping shut.