Chapter 64

“Wh-what are we starting?” Miguel blinked, stammering in shock. He scrambled backward on the floor, retreating two steps in the posture of a frightened maiden, his face filled with horror. “It’s not what I’m thinking, is it?”

Caesar chuckled coldly, bending down to grab Miguel by the ankle and dragging him back to his feet. “It’s exactly that. Otherwise, get off my ship at the next port. It’s a place where they speak Italian, with hardly any English or Arabic. Good luck… Oh, and by the way, since your salary has been deducted until next year, I won’t give you a single penny. Prepare to starve.”

While delivering this heartless speech, the cold-hearted captain indeed appeared aloof and noble, fully showcasing his stingy nature.

The navigator continued to wear his shocked expression, and Caesar suddenly realized that if he didn’t take action, this guy might just maintain this posture and expression until sunset—after all, the captain was a busy man, with no time to waste here. Moreover, Caesar didn’t consider himself to have that kind of patience.

He reached out, grabbing Miguel’s fluffy hair—carefully avoiding the wound on the back of his head that hadn’t fully healed—and pulled him closer by the forehead. In the next second, without a word, the man expressionlessly pressed Miguel’s face toward his crotch—

“Mmph—wha—”

Miguel’s nose bumped against a prominent bulge. Through the thin summer pants, he could easily feel it twitch beneath the fabric—clearly, the earlier sea battle had made Caesar sweat a bit, and now that sweat mixed with his masculine scent hit Miguel full force… The man above him let out an ambiguous chuckle at his involuntary deep breath. Miguel blinked, his face, thicker than a city wall, turning red.

What was this?

This was what Luo Chenzhou had dreamed of since birth but never had—the essence of manliness.

In the quiet captain’s cabin, filled with various collections, the only sounds were the waves hitting the ship’s sides and the faint singing of the pirates cleaning the deck… Even though it was already the end of summer, when a drop of sweat slid down Miguel’s nose, he realized that without opening the window, the weather could still feel so stiflingly hot.

“You can start now.”

The man’s voice came from above, completely devoid of any trace of desire. His low, slow tone carried a natural elegance, and there was a hint of amusement in his voice, as if whispering sweet nothings to a lover.

At this moment, Miguel understood why everyone was so blind as to call the Black Sea Wolf a gentleman of the seas—it was because, when necessary, he could make himself incredibly charming.

When Miguel, unable to control himself, reached out with trembling hands to try and undo the belt of the captain sitting in the armchair, for a moment, he thought he had gone mad—

When the belt was undone, and what lay beneath it appeared unabashedly before him, the wide-eyed navigator finally admitted that he was indeed insane.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it, but it was definitely the first time he’d observed it so closely. It was an enormous thing, slightly dark in color and covered with menacing veins. Perhaps when it was fully erect, the engorgement would make it even more formidable… Just the mushroom-shaped tip alone was the size of an egg. At this moment, it lay quietly nestled in its owner’s thick hair. When Miguel reached out to touch it, it twitched violently—

As if electrocuted, the black-haired young man quickly retracted his hand.

“What’s this reaction?” The impatient man frowned, clearly dissatisfied. “Don’t you have one of these? Doesn’t it move?—Surely, last time in my hand, it functioned perfectly fine.”

“Sh-shut up!” The man’s casual remark brought back the humiliating memory of Miguel’s previous, involuntary submission in his hands. Miguel’s face turned red from his ears to his neck. He growled, and in an effort to shut the man above him up completely, he reached out with a “monkey steals the peach” move, grabbing the annoying, oversized thing!

The captain sucked in a sharp breath.

Though it was more from pain.

“Let go!” he said through clenched teeth. “Did I use that much force when I did it for you, huh? Did you leave your brain behind when you woke up this morning?”

“Leaving your brain behind when you woke up” was a frequent reproach in Caesar’s morning meetings, almost as common as the captain’s “dismissed.” However, at this moment, the navigator realized he would never be able to look at that phrase the same way again—

Well, most likely, from now on, the person leading the morning meetings would no longer be his handsome and dashing boss, but a walking, talking, and scolding… well, let’s be civilized, a two-ounce gentleman. Miguel figured Caesar probably wouldn’t be pleased to know about this transformation.

However, the man being serviced didn’t seem to care about his little slave’s mental transformation, nor did he care that he was fully dressed from the waist up while his pants were open like a pervert, revealing his lower half. He lazily pulled out a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag, and then, with the cigarette dangling from his lips, he smirked and teased, “You’re acting like a pure little virgin, son.”

“I am a pure little virgin, Dad,” Miguel said with a straight face.

The captain narrowed his eyes. “Don’t talk back.”

Miguel: “…”

The captain: “Get moving. The pants are off. Are you going to make me come just by staring?”

Miguel: “…I can try.”

The captain said mercilessly, “You can’t. I’m not even slightly aroused right now. Drink from the Fountain of Youth and come back after practicing for five hundred years—hurry up, stick out your tongue. You did a pretty good job licking that spoon last night when you were eating honey pudding. Just do it like that.”

…From now on, two more things would be hard to look at—spoons and his beloved pudding. Also, Captain, what the hell were you thinking in your dirty mind while your crew member was devoutly enjoying his meal?

“Your expression seems to be accusing me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Come here. Pleasure me.”

Alright, you win, cold-hearted captain, devilish captain, demon captain…

Miguel closed his eyes in exasperation, his long, thick eyelashes fluttering slightly. As he approached the man’s crotch, his warm breath, tinged with fear or shyness, hit the quiet member. Caesar let out a low hum, his teeth clenching slightly on the cigarette.

Things that haven’t been used in a while tend to become sensitive and uncontrollable.

Reaching out, he patted Miguel’s jaw and said maliciously, “Open your eyes. No escaping.”

…So many demands, so many requests. Rolling his eyes, Miguel opened his eyes and leaned forward. With a decisive move, he opened his mouth and took the man’s tip inside—

The instant warmth and wetness enveloping him made Caesar half-close his eyes in pleasure. His fingers moved subtly on the armrest of the chair. When he felt Miguel instinctively using his clumsy but warm tongue to press against the slit at the tip, the captain smiled, his tone becoming patient. “That’s it. Keep your teeth in.”

Miguel really wanted to tell Caesar to shut up—can’t a person have some decency? Don’t describe this kind of thing so explicitly in words!

But he was too busy to complain. His mouth was full of the man’s member, the musky scent hitting him full force. When the man gently pressed the back of his head, urging him closer, he was already struggling to learn how to breathe smoothly without spitting out what was in his mouth—

He learned quickly. Soon, as he diligently sucked on the increasingly stiff member, he even found the time to use his hand to attend to the two neglected orbs below the shaft—

At this point, he realized he was actually making the same slurping sounds he made when licking the spoon the night before—in the quiet captain’s cabin, where only the sound of breathing could be heard, these wet sounds were particularly jarring, making one’s face burn with embarrassment!

When his sensitive taste buds touched the man’s throbbing veins, Miguel awkwardly realized that he seemed to be getting aroused too. His face red, he continued his strange service, but his body was reacting. He told himself countless times to stay calm—if the other man noticed his racing heartbeat, he would surely be laughed to death—

“Focus,” came a pat on the head and a patient warning from the captain.

While Miguel was diligently performing oral sex, Caesar was quiet. He didn’t make any strange moans, only his breathing grew heavier as the temperature of his lower body rose…

Just then, there was a rhythmic knock on the tightly shut door of the captain’s cabin.

Miguel: …!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Caesar frowned.

“Mmph—ugh—”

This was the sound of someone trying to escape but being ruthlessly pressed back into place.

“Get under the table,” the captain said in a low voice, his tone husky with desire. He gave a smile that was both a warning and a tease. “Keep going, but keep it quiet… If you’re discovered, you’re dead.”

With the captain’s manhood still in his mouth, Miguel, his face flushed with blood, crawled under the desk, which wasn’t too cramped for him. As he crouched under the desk, facing only the man’s crotch, while the half-naked man above him used a completely normal voice to tell the person outside to “come in,” comrade navigator felt that his life had hit rock bottom.

The person who entered was the forecaster, bringing a report on the future ocean currents.

While the man, completely oblivious, delivered his report, earnestly informing the boss seated behind the high desk that the fleet would arrive at the Menorca Pier before midnight, a large hand stealthily reached under the table and patted Miguel’s head—

This was the “keep going” signal.

In the midst of the forecaster’s monotonous and lengthy report, Miguel, feeling like his heartbeat was about to be exposed to the other two people, was going crazy. He crouched under the desk, diligently stimulating the man’s sensitive spots—yet, as the man responded to his subordinate’s report in a tone so calm it was as if nothing was happening, Miguel felt like he was wasting his time!

He even had the energy to personally assign the order in which the ships would dock at the pier.

When the man’s rough thumb gently pinched his earlobe, as if rewarding him, and began to massage it, the warm, rough hand silently brushed against his cheek and neck, Miguel nearly burst into tears.

Not from emotion.

What the hell, this damn dog, he’s definitely trying to kill me, ahhhhhhhhh! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

Feeling mischievous, the navigator bared his teeth and bit down on the captain’s sensitive, engorged tip—

“Hmm…” The captain frowned.

The forecaster immediately stopped his report and asked cautiously, “Something wrong?”

“…That Berry did a good job on the deck work this time. Let him stay on the deck for now, no need to move him to logistics just yet.” The man, now composed, said nonchalantly. “At least not for the time being.”

The forecaster nodded and quickly agreed.

Under the table, the large hand reached up to Miguel’s face and pinched it warningly.

Miguel rolled his eyes, silently pushed the hand away, and continued his work—this time, in a desperate bid to finish quickly, he went all out, shoving the thick length deep into his mouth, even letting the mushroom-shaped tip press against his throat…

Screw you, damn dog, ultimate technique—deep throat, let’s see if you can hold out!

The warm, wet, and tight place, constantly contracting, was like the most wonderful place in the world. Caesar admitted that this was more arousing than any previous action. Not long after Miguel started doing this, he felt his lower body grow even harder and hotter, the veins throbbing rhythmically. As the long-winded forecaster began reporting on next week’s ocean currents, he didn’t notice that the captain behind the desk had a moment of stiffness and a blank expression—

Then his entire body relaxed.

Only Miguel under the table knew what had happened.

Because, unable to dodge and with nowhere to go, he was sprayed with a faceful of thick, milky fluid.

If not for the last shred of rationality, the navigator, who had been thoroughly coated from head to toe without a single drop wasted on the floor, would have flipped the table—

Outside, the forecaster finally finished his summary report.

Then he saw, behind the desk, the captain, usually as stern as the King of Hell, actually cracked a smile. Propping his chin on one hand, the man smiled lazily and elegantly, nodding in approval. “Well done.”

“…”

He… he was being praised?!

The forecaster was stunned. For a moment, he had the inexplicable feeling that this compliment, well, might not have been meant for him.

But… if not for him, then who? After all, in the captain’s cabin right now, it was just him and the boss, wasn’t it?

Who else could it be?