“Who the heck is that?” Ken Kennedy muttered as a loud knock sounded on his hotel room door. “It’s almost midnight!” he growled as he yanked it open.
A second later, he was being backed into his room, a sharp sword pressed against his throat. Paul Burchill stood before him, holding a very real sword to his neck, just hard enough to hurt without cutting.
“Uhhh…” Ken stammered, swallowing hard. “Look, if this is about what I said earlier…”
Paul shook his head and stepped forward, the cold steel of the blade forcing Ken to step back in sync. Paul backed Ken up to the bed, continuing to crawl forward until Ken’s back hit the headboard.
“Burchill - Paul – Blackbeard – whatever you want to be called!” Ken gulped, “We – we can work this out! I – I meant what I said. The – the second thing I said, about how this is gonna work out great for you. I love the pirate thing! Really, I do!”
Paul kept the sword at Ken’s throat, moving his face only an inch from Ken’s. “Hello,” he said in his musical English accent. He licked his lips, eyeing Ken’s body up and down. The network representative was clad only in a pair of loose pajama pants and a half-buttoned shirt which he had pulled on to answer the door. With the hand not holding the sword, Paul reached down, popping open the fastened buttons of Ken’s shirt and sliding his hand up the other man’s chest.
Ken squirmed, stopping instantly as the sword’s edge threatened to bight into his flesh. “What the hell are you doing?” he gasped, his heart pounding in his chest.
Paul gave him a wicked grin. “Treasure,” he replied simply, grinning still more broadly, “and plunder!”
“My – my money’s in my bag. I – I have $80! And – and a watch. Nice watch, expensive,” Ken stuttered.
Paul shook his head, his eyes flickering appreciatively over Ken’s exposed chest. “As me friend Jack once said,” he murmured quietly, “Not all treasure’s gold ‘n silver.” His hand again ran down Ken’s chest, this time dipping down, trailing over his abdomen.
Ken gasped as Paul took hold of his pants, forcefully tugging them down. “You can’t be serious!” he choked, starting to shake his head, and stopping just as quickly as he remembered the steel against his throat. “Look, I don’t know what arrangement you and Regal had, but I don’t do that!” he panted, his eyes bugging as Paul pushed his own pants down over his hips, shifting so he was laying on top of Ken.
Ken kept his legs pressed tightly together, but a bit of meaningful pressure against the sword convinced him to part them. Paul moved between them, glancing up at Ken with a slight, amused smile on his face. Ken flushed, willing his treacherous hard on to go down. It didn’t, remaining at full attention as Burchill slicked himself and penetrated him.
Ken closed his eyes as Paul began to rock into him. He couldn’t believe he was actually being raped, at sword point, by a pirate. On the other hand, it was that fact which was keeping him almost painful hard. He heaved a deep sigh of relief when the sword was withdrawn from his throat, replace by Paul’s hot lips against his. Paul used his now free arms to hook Ken’s legs up, allowing him to thrust in deeper.
Ken groaned, returning Paul’s kisses with passion. He was thankful that Paul allowed him to snake a hand between their bodies to stroke his aching cock. He only needed a few hard strokes before he spilled across his stomach.
Paul growled against his lips, coming inside him, then pulling back. “Thanks mate,” he murmured, giving Ken a final kiss on the lips before standing, retrieving his sword, and striding quickly from the room.
Ken covered his face with his hands, trying to collect himself. He was feeling a bit lightheaded from the amazing sex he had just experienced. It was the hottest sex he’d had in ages…and it was with a pirate. A pirate who had taken him a sword point. He was scarcely able to believe that this had just happened, but a quick pinch confirmed that he was definitely not dreaming.
He reached for the phone, dialing Palmer’s number. The phone rang only once before he slammed it down quickly. What was he supposed to tell Palmer? That he’d just been raped by a pirate, and had the orgasm of the year? Palmer would either take it as a joke, or think it was some kind of sex game between him and Paul. He sighed, frowning at the phone as if it had done something wrong.
This couldn’t be what it appeared. Paul had to be playing some kind of game. Ken mulled that over for a moment, and a small smile crept to his lips. He had never noticed Burchill before the pirate gimmick had begun – maybe Paul was doing it to get some attention. To get his attention.
Ken smiled. Men had gone out of their way to catch his attention before, but no one had gone to lengths as far as pretending to be a pirate. He nodded, quickly cleaning off his stomach and tucking himself under the covers.
Paul was just doing this for attention. It had to be something like
that. He couldn’t really believe he was a pirate.