Malark was a bastard and been torturing Meira all day. The worst part was that he had no idea that he was doing it. Meira just had to sit there and suffer while Malark chattered away happily oblivious to how frustrated and annoyed Meira was with his overwhelming cheer and unintentional teasing.
Of course, Meira knew the reason that Malark was working on the boat without a shirt wasn't that they had hit a bit of unintended ocean spray (and it was currently hanging out to dry in the sun), no the reason was that Malark wanted to test the limits of her self-control. And he was doing a good job.
Infuriatingly oblivious to the way she was responding, Malark worked the sail with glistening muscles and ran up and down the ship as they pulled out of the harbor with an excited and attractive smile on his face. The way he would stretch out on over the edge of the boat, and strain between two ropes above his head to change direction was driving Meira out of her mind. What made matters worse was the damn ocean, who thoughtlessly sprayed even more water up onto the deck so that his hair was slicked back and most of his upper body was drenched and dripping.
The little boat was small enough for Malark to handle on his own while Meira either took a turn steering or dawdled about on deck, reading and trying to avoid the spray (and staring). While she was successful at avoiding the water, she was drenched regardless and had begun to regret this little day trip. It seemed like her body would be much more productive in bed writhing beneath his, but he insisted on putting her in this position while he was busy with their "safety" and not even having the decency to realize it. The bastard.
Meira had tried to get revenge, using several dirty tactics that would normally have her lover in the palm of her hand. She attempted to brush up against him seductively and was wearing tight trousers so they should have drawn his eyes and gotten a bulge. She also had given him a few proper kisses, with arms around his neck, and a nibble of his lips, that should have gotten him to toss her over his shoulder.
Unfortunately, the blasted act of sailing was the only thing that could tear him away from her. He loved the ocean so much that she was mentally cursing Umberlee. He would dart around the ship like an excitable child. The sailor wizard was too enthusiastic about sharing his love of the sea with her for her to muster any real anger at him, but it was getting in the way of the game she wanted to play. Every time she thought she had is attention firmly on her, a little ocean swell or some sort of noise would tear him away and he would dart over to take care of it.
After the third attempt at giving him the long kiss she wanted was interrupted (predictably) by a rope coming loose, Meira thought she was going to lose her mind. Not only was he shirtless and not paying her enough attention, but now his calloused, rough hands were tying knots over and over again around something that wasn't her.
It was the final straw and she was done playing fair.
After disappearing in the cabin for a while, Meira emerged with a lazy sway of her hips, knowing that she would have her wizard eating out of the palm of her hand. She glided across the deck without looking at him, appearing nude except for a large, billowing white tunic that belonged to the sailor whose eyes found her unfailingly. She had her hair falling in bouncing waves and had applied a bit of the cosmetics she usually used for disguise to enhance her features. Meira looked every bit the irresistible siren and knew it. Without turning her gaze, Meira stopped at the bow of the ship, and found herself standing in a warm ray of sunlight; deciding this was the perfect spot, she lay down a soft strip of tarp on the wood as a blanket.
In one smooth, slow motion, the temptress slid his tunic up and over her head, revealing the tiniest panties, little more than string. Malark's eyes widened and his grip tightened around the spokes of the wheel, he couldn't breathe as blood pumped in his ears. His vision was full of Meira, her skin shining in the sunlight, and he worked his view up from her athletically toned leg. It roamed over her hips, still bearing marks of his grip from last night, then over her perky chest tipped with light pink nipples, currently stiff in the breeze, also bearing a faded mark from his mouth.
Malark lost track of time while drinking in this delicious sight but then he heard his name being called, said in a voice he knew too well, one that promised a reward for a quick response. "Malark dear, could you come over for a moment?" His feet moved without thought and he was standing in front of his lover, Malark hadn't noticed when she had walked out (too transfixed by her form) but she carried a small little bowl quick sniff told him it was oil.
"I'm going to lay out here and get some sun. Be a dear and spread that on my legs?"
Meira then lounged back on her tarp, using the tunic as a pillow and slid her legs out for him to give them attention. He dripped the oil into his hand uncertainly at first before going to work on Meira's legs. Malark would drench both his hands and then slide them slowly up Meira's athletically toned figure, digging his hands in with a slow massage before coming up to the top of her thigh. The horny sailor would hesitate at the top before working his way down and in his focus, he missed the small smile the successful siren let's slip up on her pillow.
As he makes his way back down to her feet a second time, she slid her leg out of his grasp and turned over, expressing a second command without saying a word. After adding another layer of oil to the back of her legs and then her barely covered ass, Malark worked his way up to her back, straddling her as he massaged the oil into Meira's back. His thumbs and fingers traced up her spine and over her shoulders in slow circular motions. Meira bit back a groan as his hands dug into her skin and while she was happy to finally get his attention, she felt her control over the game slipping away.
Malark's ministrations repeated as he worked up and down her back a second and then a third time, until he was stopped by her shifting and putting a hand on his still bare chest. He rose up his hips, so Meira could shimmy onto her back as her nail traced patterns into his skin. When the rogue got comfortable, she reached for the oil herself and poured the remainder up from her navel over her chest and up to her collarbone. After setting aside the cup she grabbed both calloused hands she'd been enjoying and placed them on her stomach, till they were working their way up and around her torso.
Meira was completely in control, and she knew it. The soft smile had morphed into a full malicious grin and it never left her face as she teased her pet with soft shimmies of her hips while he straddled her; her nails were busy too, tracing little love notes on his arm he was too focused to interpret. She knew he would linger on her breasts as he rubbed in the herbal scented oil into her body with delicacy and reverence. His thumb lingered on the mark his mouth had made and they both paused, reminiscing about the night before and eager to continue where they left off.
Just as his mouth was leaning in to replicate his mark, a stiff wave hit the boat and the impact was followed by the spooling sound of rope coming loose. Malark's eyes were instantly drawn away from her and his training and experience moved him to the cause of the disturbance. Despite the sound the problem was only minor and easy fix, the boat didn't rock much, but it was drifting in the relatively calm waters. Instincts told him to fix the problem immediately and get back to more important things with his beloved. He turned to give a reassuring smile back to Meira, but it froze on his face when he saw her standing and facing him with her hands on her hips.
She wasn't worried, she wasn't relieved, she didn't even seem concerned with the problem. Meira was pissed off.
Like startled prey, Malark froze with a rope wrapped up on each arm, holding the sail in its proper place but staring at his lover with abject concern and typical male obliviousness. Meira started to move towards him with a purpose, aggressive and hungry yet still managing to be strikingly sensual.
The two came together once again, Malark still frozen with concern and Meira placing the nails of both hands on his chest. She dug them in and dragged them down his torso, leaving red marks in their wake and giving Malark a sharp sensation mixed with pain and pleasure as his mouth widened. She got to his trousers and started working off his belt. It came off easy and she went to unlace his breeches.
As Malark started to react her voice rang out "Stay still. This is a punishment." Malark obeyed and his eyes widened as he found his breeches pulled down and his erection exposed. "Unless we are about to fucking die, you do not take your eyes off me." Meira dropped to her knees in a swift motion. Stroking his rock-hard cock in her hand. "You're mine and I'm yours. Your attention is mine when I want it. I wanted it now and you didn't give it to me." His protest died on his lips as her grip tightened on his member and she kissed the tip before looking him straight in the eyes with those glowing violet pupils aflame "Now I'm taking what I want."
The head of his cock disappeared behind painted lips as Meira slid it in and sucked hard while stroking the length of his member with one hand and cupping his balls in the other. She teased and tasted his sensitive tip with her tongue and lips, causing a gasp to escape his mouth and his arms to tighten around the ropes above him. The gasp morphed into a moan as her mouth slid down his manhood back and forth, working in time with her hand's movements. The up and down massage had turned to a cranking motion as she worked him towards his climax in a rough, demanding fashion. The off hand massaging his balls moved to pull his hips in deeper by grabbing a handful of his ass before returning to their massage at a higher pace. She was an expert in pleasuring him and showed it off with pride.
After the teasing and the situation and the skill of Meira's work, Malark knew he wouldn't hold off for long. Then Meira took his full length to the back of her throat once, twice, thrice; her nails clawing into his thighs as she showed him why he was lucky enough to have her at his side and in his bed. He felt his end coming up quick as she shifted back to her one-handed strokes, making sure to look him straight in the eyes and opening her mouth wide to let him watch as her tongue flicked over the head of his cock in time with her rough motion. When she saw his head tilt back and her name started to leave his lips as a prayer (not for the first time, he was dedicated in his worship) Meira knew his climax was cumming.
Not one to be wasteful or overly messy, Meira clamped her mouth around the head of his cock and kept up her pace, sucking hard as his hips started to thrust in desperation. His seed flowed a few moments later, with a helpful warning gasp and she took ropes of cum down her throat as his legs started to shake. Malark felt blessed with amazing fortune but knew in her control, he shouldn't push his luck sod he managed to stay standing. He was rewarded by the visual of her locking eyes with him again to milk the last drop of cum from him while licking it off slowly. He knew that sight would be the subject of his masturbation for years.
The goddess in half-elf form rose to her feet slowly, pressing her oiled body against him completely, swallowing before giving him a long, lingering kiss (one that wasn't interrupted. Meira turned on her heels like a dancer and bent over at the waist to slowly peel her undergarment off in front of him before tossing it carelessly over her shoulder. Meira slinked back to her cabin without turning her head.
"Fix that, lay anchor and be quick about it. I'm going inside to touch myself and you will be inside me in 15 minutes or less. Otherwise our next conversation won't have as happy of an ending."
Malark got everything done faster than an entire crew would have. Had any boat come across them for the rest of the day they would have though the small boat was haunted. From the way that it rocked in relatively calm seas and the loud cries from within.
As the sun set, Malark had one hand in his mate's hair and the other around her waist, thrusting into her from behind and driving her to yet another orgasm. He knew he would have to take her sailing again, and resolved not to wear a shirt anytime onboard.