Troy Tamed

Having a premonition of what Estaban had in mind because of the looks he gave me while Gehler and the young sailors were climbing down into the launch, I tried to make myself scarce. It wasn’t just that I was afraid of Estaban and what he might be planning but also because I was afraid of my own arousal for Estaban.

He found me in the radio room off the bridge and fucked me first there.

“Estaban, no. I don’t—” was as much as I got out when he entered the room, already stripped down to his shorts. I melted to the sight of him, dark and hirsute and well-muscled and with a determined, hungry look in his dark, flashing eyes. Gehler had asked me if I fancied him. Yes, dammit, I did. When he cut off what I was going to say by taking two strides to me and spinning me around, facing the wall, and half bent over the radio operator’s table, I thought maybe he was a mind reader. He had my chest trapped by his forearm and his hand was clamped over my mouth and nose. His other hand was fumbling around with the belt and zipper to my shorts, which, along with my briefs, where soon down around my ankles.

“Captain said you fancied me and we could have a go while he was gone. And he said your friend who introduced you said you liked it hard and rough.”