My Pirate Treasure

The little chime of laughter Artorias pulled from Bowen when he offered to find her a ship immediately lifted the brute's mood, and when Bowen rose to grace his chin with a kiss, he knew he'd made the right effort, at least. She gently declined his offer, explaining that she could only ever belong to the land or sea, and that she chose to remain with him. He easily leaned into Bowen's petite paw when she stroked cheek, staring at her with such love in his eyes for the caramel and cream fae that had his heart. He would never know how she pined for the life she'd loved and left behind, but he could forever appreciate the sacrifice she made for him and their family as a whole.

When he called Bowen over to head below deck, he watched as his sister performed a graceful leap over the railing, raising an impressed brow before following her down the winding wood staircase to explore the lower decks of the ship. Bowen led him with practiced and nimble paws through the crew quarters, then the galley, then past steerage, pointing out everything as they passed and explaining it to him along the way. He was fascinated by all the things Bowen knew about the ship and sailing. He listened with rapt attention, drinking in all the details. He made a mental note to go back through storage to see if they could find any useful supplies or treasures to bring back with them to the Hallows. After all, the pirates weren't guarding them. Their fault for making it so easy, really.

Bowen turned and led her way up another winding staircase with a pull of her long, silken tail against his hip that sent a delightful shiver up Artorias' back, a sly smirk creeping its way across his face. He followed his sultry sister up the stairs into the captain's quarters, marveling at the spacious room as Bowen explained how she knew where it was. Though dusty and faded, the room still maintained an air of lavishness the captain had afforded themselves once upon a time. Old furniture filled the space of the room, and against the far wall lay a massive canopy bed. Artorias' fiery eyes trailed over everything while he took in the sights around him, marveling at it all. It was then that he realized Bowen's guided tour had come to an end, and when he looked back to her, he found his lover's smoldering emerald eyes gazing at him with a desperate need. She whispered his name, a purring call that sparked the endless fire within his belly, then explained she needed something from him. "Anything," he replied almost immediately, even before she told him what it was she needed. No matter what it was, he would give it to her if he could.

The request that came from the voluptuous russet fae as she approached him with a predatory gleam in her verdant eyes made Artorias' heart skip a beat and his breath catch in his throat. He didn't know what was playing in Bowen's mind, but whatever it was, it had awoken something primal within her. Bowen looked positively ravenous for him. In the confines of the captain's quarters, her intoxicating scent of heat began to fill the room like a pheromone-laced perfume, triggering something carnal in his brain and rousing his baser instincts. He'd never seen Bowen in such a state before, but now that he had, he only ever wanted her to look at him this way. His tail began swaying in a leisurely wag in time to his pounding heart, evidence of how her heated cajoling was affecting him growing hard beneath him the closer she sauntered to him, the enticing sway of her shapely hips hypnotizing him.

Then she stood before him, and the dire brute gazed down at the dainty, petite fae in a way he'd never looked at her before. She smelled delicious, and Artorias was starving. She leaned up until her muzzle was brushing the side of his neck, adding a stutter to his breath. Bowen had learned that his throat was a major erogenous zone, it seemed, as she whispered her desires for him to be rough with her against the thin blue fur there, telling him to make it hurt. Not asking—demanding. The next thing Artorias felt was Bowen's warm, wet tongue as it rolled over his throat, following the path of his thrumming pulse as she drew breathy gasps and heated exhales from the brute. Just as she knew his weaknesses, he knew hers, particularly her love for the sounds she pulled from him. So Artorias held nothing back, letting every shaking breath fall from his lips while her tongue teased his throat. Obsidian eyelids slowly fluttered over lust-glazed amber eyes, savoring the sensations that were slowly winding up the spring in his core.

And then he felt the sharp sting as Bowen's fangs pierced his skin. Artorias gasped sharply and growled in pained surprise, the sudden rush of pain blending with the lazy pleasure he'd just been enjoying to create a heady mixture in his brain. Artorias did pull back on reflex, tugging Bowen's teeth against his skin enough to tear it and draw thin rivulets of blood, but not causing any real damage. His citrine eyes flared to life with a dark, lecherous fire as he watched her skitter away to toss her bag aside, looking back to him almost in a frenzy while she begged him one last time in their tongue. Bowen had awoken something inside Artorias—something he hadn't felt since that night in Fenmyre. His fur bristled as he let primal instinct take over. The lust, the hunger, Bowen's scent flooding his nares, it all overpowered the brute. He was no longer Artorias and she was no longer Bowen. He was an alpha brute and she was his fae, ready to be bred and begging him to cut loose. So he did.

With a lustful snarl, Artorias stormed across the room with heavy footfalls until he towered over Bowen, reaching down with a strong foreleg to scoop her up around her slim midsection as if she weighed nothing. The azure-furred brute then deposited her roughly upon the nearest surface to them—a table with a map laid out on it—and surrounded Bowen with his form while he braced himself on either side of her with large paws. Artorias wasted no time in capturing his sister's mouth with his own, claiming her muzzle in a deeply passionate kiss while he slid his tongue into her maw, tasting her sweet flavor and staking his claim over her. She was his, now and always. While he dominated her mouth with his tongue, one massive paw grabbed her by her rump, pulling her to the edge of the table so he could line his hips up with hers. His claws bit into the flesh of one hip, holding her steady while he braced himself on the table. Their kiss broke, a thin strand of silver hanging between their lips while he gasped for breath—but didn't take her just yet. No, she had bitten him, and he had to return the favor.

Snatching up Bowen's curvy rump in his paws, Artorias flipped her roughly on the table, leaving her back legs hanging off the edge while the rest of her was pinned to its surface by his tremendous body. He pulled her long silken tail aside before hooking one paw around her hipbone, pressing his hips into hers until he felt her heat against him, but not entering her just yet. Artorias teased Bowen with himself, slamming one giant paw beside her head and clawing through the map and into the table's surface. Then he leaned his muzzle down to nuzzle slowly through her scruff, drinking in her scent like a predator savoring his kill. Deep, hungry growls rumbled in the man's chest and throat all the while until he brought his muzzle up to her ear, nipping at the tender skin before whispering in husky baritones, "Esti al meu, Bowen."

Then Artorias parted his jaws and bit down on Bowen's scruff, letting his sharper teeth and stronger jaws do their work holding her down while they sank into her skin. In the same motion, Artorias pushed his hips into hers until he slid home, muffled snarls against her neck slipping from him while fire-kissed eyes rolled back in his head. Bowen had asked him for something, and he would deliver. He would have her as he pleased, unleashed and unrestrained. He would make her squirm and writhe and moan and scream. Not just this one time, but as many times as it took for their lusts to be fully slaked. By the time both Carpathians were spent, he expected he'd be carrying Bowen back to the Hallows in a messy, satisfied heap.

- fade -

"Artorias" | "Carpathian"