Chapter 3 Sadistic pirate

France looked at England in amazement. Was he dreaming? He had to be. Still he wasn't going to waste the moment. France quickly lent forward to return the kiss, but to his disappointment England stepped back with an tut of annoyance. France smiled and shrugged, trying hard not to show his disappointment. However when England placed his hand under Frances chin and tilted back his head so that emerald eyes met the sea of blue, France had a hard job keeping the lust out of his eyes.

"I am the pirate captain here, in case you've forgotten." England scolded

He indicated his grand coat which only the captains could wear. It was a sign of status, and since it held gold stitching, gold buttons and had been personally tailored, maybe by England himself, with the rose patterns it screamed a high position. A position that may have indicated that he had not only one ship but a whole fleet under his command. Therefore it was no surprise that England's old boss had sent the navy after England himself. It was that kind of rebel England that drove France crazy.

"Aucun je n'ai pas oublié." France replied

"I thought I told you not to speak any French tonight? So you're going to disobey a direct order from your captain? Once, that would have got you shot, or at least marooned on an island. But as that would put a dampening on our evening, I'll have to think of a more suitable punishment." England warned

England swooped down to passionately kiss and intrude upon the mouth that had uttered the offensive French language. France was more prepared this time and responded gleefully, their tongues swirling around each others. After what felt like an eternity, they broke apart, and England bit down on Frances bottom lip as he withdrew from his mouth. As England sat up he was muttering something in a language France recognized as a mixture of Latin and Gaelic, and smiling at the droplet of blood that had appeared on Frances lip. Towards the end of the sentence he opened his hand and a riding crop appeared as if from thin air.

"Now now my dear little froggy, You've seen my magic before haven't you?" England teased

Truth be told France actually hadn't seen England perform magic before, well not in his mind any way. He had heard of him doing it, laughed and scorned at the idea, but seeing him actually do it caught him totally of guard. England had known that France would be in shock at seeing his magic, and used it to his advantage. He could always wipe his mind of the magic incident later, like he had in the past when France had stumbled in on his spells. But for now he ripped off Frances shirt. In his savage rebel days he would have thrown a bucket of cold water over the helpless victim who would be receiving the lashing, as it would have made the nerves and skin more sensitive, but tonight it wouldn't be such a heartless attack.

He lifted the crop, which wasn't his first choice of weapon but in this confined space it would have to do, and brought it down on France. France let out a hiss of pain, but he had gotten off lightly as there was no room to for the riding crop to gather momentum in the small space between them. England repeated this assault a few more times, then reached out his hand and placed it between Frances legs. He rubbed and squeezed the growing bulge in Frances pants, while continuing the lashing. France groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure. England was/is a very sadistic nation really just open a history book to witness his sadism.

France responded by pressing himself harder against Englands hand. England threw the crop to the side and kissed down Frances neck; every now and then nipping at his neck leaving bruises and making France groan and tremble slightly. Curse France and his sensual voice, he was starting to get aroused. He continued moving down France's body, stopping at Frances nipples and gently nipping and sucking at them. He waited until he felt them grow harder under his tongue. He then pulled away from Frances chest and continued kissing down his body going further and further down. By now Frances erection had grown noticeably harder and larger.

"Angleterre!" France cried out in a husky voice

"Yes?" Was the reply

"Please..." panted France

England sat up, his face in a smirk, his eyes glowing with his old evil intent that had frightened everyone in his pirate days. He removed his hand from Frances groin much to the others displeasure.

"But France, I'm terrible at romance and a terrible lover." England teased

England got up and went to walk out of the room. France tried to quickly stop him, but he was to deep in his lust and moved sluggishly. He let out a pathetic moan.

"Angleterre, where are you going?" France pleaded

"I'm off to bed, night." Was the cruel response

"Ow could you? Vous êtes un diable! Un bâtard !" France yelled at him

"Oui, je suis. But I never said you couldn't come with me did I?" England replied with a devilish grin

France got up and freed himself from his trousers while England also began to free himself from his clothing as the two darted towards the closest bedroom. France was the first to arrive, but England used the momentum in his run to push France forcibly on the bed under him.

"You may want to give me some lube." England suggested

"Non, there is no way that I am going to let you top me!" Protested France

"Are you sure? I might just leave and take a cold shower instead then." Threatened England who gripped Frances erection and began moving his hand up and down in a pumping motion to enforce the threat.

France whimpered and threw the bottle of lube at England who caught it in one hand. Obviously he didn't want to take a chance on England's bluff, luckily for England otherwise their positions may have changed. England smiled in victory as he put the lube on his fingers and pushed them into Frances entrance. France wanted to tell him to quite smirking at him, but all he could do was cry out and grip the bed sheets as he felt the fingers move in and out of him moving faster and faster. Once France was bucking his hips along with Englands motions, England withdrew his fingers and put lube on his erection. Placing his hands on Frances hips he entered him both gasping at the feeling. Needless to say that that night France's home was filled with the sounds of their groans, cry's and the complaining of the bed.

All thoughts of Englands argument with his brother had naturally been abandoned. Only thoughts of each other, whether it was to cause the other pleasure or pain, existed. However the next morning was going to force the problem abruptly upon them again.