La prueba del capitán

The yacht rocked gently against the moorings in Marina del Rey, and I was already sweating through my new linen shirt. I'd accepted the job as deckhand without realizing my boss would be *her* — Valentina Cross, the woman whose yacht I'd been photographing from the pier for weeks, the one with the sharp jawline and sharper eyes.

"You're late," she said, not looking up from her tablet. She was wearing a white bikini top under an open silk shirt, and her legs were bare, golden, endless.

"Traffic—"

"Don't care." She finally looked at me, and her gaze traveled down my body like she was reading a price tag. "You know anything about boats, Marcus?"

"Un poco."

"Good. Then you can learn the rest on the job." She tossed me a life vest. "We're heading to Catalina. You'll be my only crew today."

Three hours later, we were anchored in a quiet cove, the water turquoise and glassy. Valentina had shed the shirt completely, and she was stretched out on the bow deck like a cat, sunglasses pushed up into her dark hair.

"You're staring," she said, not opening her eyes.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." She sat up, and her bikini top slipped just enough to show the curve of her breast. "But you're going to have to work for it."

I swallowed. "Work for what?"

She stood, walked toward me, and stopped so close I could smell her sunscreen, coconut and salt. "You want to fuck me, Marcus. I can see it in the way you hold the ropes. Too tight."

"Maybe."

"Maybe." She laughed, low and dirty. "I don't do 'maybe.' I'm your boss. I decide when you get promoted."

She turned and walked into the cabin, leaving the door open.

I followed her like a dog.

Inside, the cabin was cool and dim, the bed already unmade. Valentina was unbuttoning her bikini bottoms, slow, watching me over her shoulder.

"Lock the door," she said.

My hands shook as I turned the latch.

She was naked by the time I turned back. Her body was all lean muscle and tan lines, her breasts full and heavy, her nipples already dark and hard. She lay back on the bed, spread her legs, and I saw her pussy glistening, wet.

"Come here," she said. "Show me what you learned today."

I crawled onto the bed, my cock already aching against my shorts. She reached down and palmed it through the fabric, squeezing.

"Impressive," she murmured. "Let's see if you know how to use it."

I stripped off my shirt, my shorts, my boxers, and she took my cock in her hand, stroking it slowly, watching my face.

"You're going to fuck me, Marcus. And you're going to do it exactly how I tell you. Understand?"

—Sí.

"Buen chico."

She guided me between her legs, and I felt the heat of her before I even entered. She rubbed my cock against her clit, and I groaned.

"Please," I said.

«¿Por favor qué?»

—Por favor, déjame follarte.

She smiled, slow and wicked, and then she pulled me inside her.

She was tight, wet, and hot as hell. I buried myself to the hilt and she gasped, her nails digging into my back.

"Fuck," she breathed. "That's it. Now move."

I fucked her slow at first, savoring the way her hips rolled to meet mine. She was vocal, moaning, telling me exactly how she liked it — harder, deeper, don't you dare slow down. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and she pulled me closer, her teeth grazing my shoulder.

"Don't you come yet," she ordered. "Not until I say so."

I nodded, my forehead against hers, our breath mixing. She was so close — I could feel her clenching around me.

"Now," she whispered. "Come inside me. Fill me up."

I came with a groan, my whole body shuddering, and she came with me, her back arching, her mouth open in a silent cry.

We lay there, tangled and sweaty, the boat rocking gently beneath us.

Morning came with the smell of coffee. I woke to find Valentina sitting on the deck in a white robe, two mugs in her hands.

"You're still here," she said, handing me a cup.

"Did you think I'd leave?"

She smiled, a real smile this time, soft at the edges. "I thought you might. I'm not easy to work for."

"I'm learning."

She looked at me over the rim of her mug, and her eyes were warm, almost playful. "Good. Because I have a lot more to teach you."