(A/n)
This sex scene gets a little rough, if that's not up your alley then I'd suggest just skimming through until you hit the first time skip mark (----) to get around that.

Of all your time in this line of work, you'd never spent a night like this one. The first, most prominent part of it was the blood.

As soon as you'd closed the door behind you, the man removed his cape and draped it across your chase, revealing a long, vicious looking trident he'd somehow hidden within its folds. That was leaned against the wall by the bed. Then, he kicked off his boots, one sliding under the bed while the other landed beside your vanity.

He turned around and sat at the edge of your bed, letting out a heavy sigh before tugging you into his lap. You knew what that sigh meant. He was tired, probably completely exhausted, but you bet he felt an overwhelming need to give in to his urges as well. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him as your hands fell to his chest, trailing along to feel his muscles and pick up a few stray droplets of blood.

It was slow, he let you touch him as you pleased while his hands kneaded roughly at your thighs. While you took the time to trace his body, he moved to squeeze your ass, pushing the skirt of the dress up.

That made you pause so that you could remove it. When hands started travelling under clothes, the men usually wanted them gone pretty fast.

"No." He snatched your hands right as you started lifting the dress up. "Keep it on, for now."

And then he really began.

You released the dress and he dove in for your neck, making you gasp in surprise. His teeth grazed your skin, tongue left wet trails, and all the while, you could feel the blood on his clothes transferring to you. It sunk in fast and hit your skin along your entire front. You could feel how cool and sticky it was, on its way to drying out but not quite there yet.

The smell of it hung heavy in the air with him so close. That and the saltiness of the sea and sweat from his time under the hot sun. It was a rich, thick scent that seemed to overwhelm you as much as his sudden intensity. He seemed almost starved.

Many men had found themselves in your bed with similar reactions but his felt different somehow, like it wasn't just the sex he was craving. But it was definitely the dominant driving force, there was an increasingly obvious bulge between the two of you that attested to that.

He sighed again as he parted from your neck and this time, it was more of a content sound. His lips trailed up your jaw until they met yours, his tongue slipping past to immediately deepen the kiss.

Sometimes the men that came didn't allow time for foreplay, they got straight to the point and those were always rough. The ones that liked to take it slow were your favorites, they gave you the time you needed to get into the right mindset.

But even he was taking it a little too slow for your liking. There was a balance to these things, and if you had him pick up the pace, you'd bet money on it that he wouldn't be satisfied and it wouldn't be long until he was craving a second round. If you kept it up, you could coax him into spending the entire night with you without having to even suggest it.

So you readjusted yourself, pushing a little further into his chest as you started to grind into him, adding small whimpers for effect. It worked like a charm. He grunted against your lips and gripped your ass tightly as he thrust his hips against you. One of his hands tangled itself in your hair, pulling at the carefully styled bun until it all fell loose around your shoulders. His hand jerked away for a moment, tossing away the band that kept it all in place before he once again grabbed a fistfull of hair.

He pulled your head back and dropped down to nip at the tops of your breasts. On occasion, he'd bite down hard enough to leave red, irritated impressions of his teeth and you'd cry out every time. Each sound only fed his lust until he was growling and groping around your body aggressively.

When he was satisfied with how much he'd marked you up, he released you to take off his "shirt" and throw it over with his cape. As he moved to fiddle with the belt around his shorts, you buried your face in his neck, nibbling at the skin delicately while you slid a hand down to palm at his strained erection. He let out a short groan, pausing for a moment before fighting the belt with renewed vigor. It seemed he was out of patience.

He didn't even give himself time to undress the rest of the way. Instead, as soon as his cock was free, he pushed your panties to the side and thrust himself inside you.

You leaned forward to brush your lips against his ear as you let out a soft moan and began to ride him. He pushed your skirt up enough to grab your hips and lead the pacing, keeping it slow but making you slam down onto him hard each time.

Each time you took him in completely, you let out an airy moan and moved in such a way that you had him digging his nails into you from the pleasure. His jaw tightened and his breath came out in short, ragged, huffs, only interrupted by his occasional grunts. His eyes roved along your body, greedily taking in the sight of you riding his cock.

The fact that you were still dressed didn't seem to dull his lust any. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the splash of red that covered the front of your dress. He moved one hand away from your hips, sure you'd be able to keep up the pace without his complete guidance, and ran it up your stomach, lingered at the valley of your breasts, and then slowly moved up to your throat. The cold, slick feeling of the blood followed and you knew more had to be decorating your collar now.

But you were now a little concerned with his grip around your neck. A wicked grin suddenly took over his features and he practically tossed you onto the bed, following quickly to nestle himself between your legs. The entire time, he never lost his hold on you, which was both impressive and frightening.

You could tell the concern was on your face, it was hard to hide when he began squeezing his fingers. Instinctively, your hands flew to his but you weren't sure what to do past that. Forcing him away might anger him and in turn, make him more aggressive but staying as you were could be deadly as well.

He could see the wheels turning in your head and he chuckled, dipping down to kiss along your jaw until his lips came to your ear so he could whisper to you.

"I want you afraid, I want to ruin that pure look of yours."

You let out a small, forced gasp as his grip tightened even more, his second hand joining the first around your throat. The pressure built up in your head, making you dizzy as you tried to pry his hands away. But his hold was like steel clamps and you knew it was hopeless. He wanted you scared but you had no idea what that meant in terms of how far he'd go for the sake of his sadistic pleasure.

He pulled away to grin down at you, thrusting into you more harshly than before. The sight of you gasping for what little air you had left was turning him on more than anything else. His occasional noises turned into full blown, throaty moans, his eyes glazed over with a look of pure ecstasy, and all the while, your vision was becoming fuzzy.

You'd stopped trying to make him release you and instead just held onto his hands loosely. And when you thought you'd lose consciousness, sure that he'd kill you, his grip loosened enough for you to take frightened gasps of air. You couldn't get the oxygen in your lungs fast enough.

"Slowly." He moaned. "Breathe in slowly, I don't need you passing out on me."

Unsure of what else to do, you did as he commanded, calming your breathing. And then you could feel it. Now that you were sure he wasn't going to kill you, just deprive you of your air enough to freak you out, you could feel the intense pleasure that stemmed from it.

It was somehow sudden and completely unexpected. You threw your head back and cried out with every rock of the hips, overtaken with the feeling of him filling you up again and again. Sex had turned into such a job that you couldn't remember the last time you actually enjoyed it so much. Now he suddenly had you on the brink of an orgasm that you just knew would be a powerful one.

"Fuck.... I'm gunna-" He didn't get to finish his sentence and instead let out a loud groan as he finished inside of you.

You reached your climax right after him, crying out and tightening your hold on his hands as your body twitched. He still continued to slowly thrust himself in and out of you, enjoying the hightened feeling that came with release.

When he decided he was satisfied, he rolled over to lay beside you on his back. He didn't bother removing the rest of his clothes or getting all that comfortable and instead just threw an arm over his eyes. His chest rose and fell steadily and neither of you spoke. You were wondering if he was planning on leaving which would have been fine, except you knew he had just been in a fight with another pirate crew. You were sure that meant he had to have had a nice about of berries burning a hole in his pocket, so to speak.

You laid on your side, facing him, and cuddled one of the many pillows on your bed. "Tell me a story."

"What?" He grumbled tiredly.

"Tell me a story, about something you've done on the Grand Line."

He slid his arm to the side just enough to gaze at you from the corner of his eye. There was no curiosity in the stare, no emotion at all actually. It was a little intimidating.

"No, I'm tired."

That usually meant they were about to leave. You glanced at the blood covering you, him, and the sheets now.

"How about a shower?" You motioned to the bathroom door that stood ajar. "I'm sure you'd like to get clean first. I can join you, keep you company."

You'd never offered for a man to take a shower with you, ever. Usually they'd leave and that was something you'd do afterwards to get rid of their smell that clung to you and freshen up for the next "customer." But this time, you felt he was worth the invitation. It wasn't often you had such a notorious pirate in your bed and you were itching from some tales from the seas.

He let out an almost inconvenienced sigh. "Fine, a shower."

----

This man had easily made the top of the list of the strangest men you'd had in your bed. When you first saw him, he was stoic, unreadable. When it came time to perform, he'd changed into an aggressive, dominating, beast. And then afterwards, he'd returned to his neutral demeanor, like the outburst of need never happened.

He seemed like the shower was a huge, unnecessary task but followed through with it anyway, staying silent the entire time he was in there with you. There was a far off look to his eyes that told you he wasn't quite with you at the time so you didn't bother him, content that you'd managed to get him to stay at least a bit longer.

And then he surprised you by staying even past that. You weren't sure you'd be able to convince him to do so but it looked like he didn't even need convincing. After the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and lounged in the chase as he watched you strip the bed of the stained sheets and replace them with a fresh set. You had the one spare set stashed in the dresser for times like this and soon enough, the bed was presentable again.

The man wasted no time getting back in bed, lazily throwing the blankets over his waist to at least cover his manhood as he settled onto his back one again. You figured if he was going to stay, he would want another round and immediately sat down beside him, running a delicate hand down his chest. You were just as bare as him, skin damp and humid from the hot shower, and your touch didn't glide as well as you would've liked. But before you could reach under the sheets, he grabbed your hand to stop you and pushed it away.

"What kinds of stories do you like?" He asked nonchalantly.

"I, uh..." You weren't expecting to just talk. As shocking as it was, men didn't pay for the women here to listen.

He raised a single expectant eyebrow at you and it was actually charming.

"Anything." You managed to say. "Anything about the seas."

You let out a small squeak of surprise as he slipped his hand around your waist and pulled you flush against his side. His skin was still warm to the touch from the shower and he hadn't bothered to dry off much at all, leaving droplets of water all over his torso. You still relaxed into him, nestling your head against his shoulder to listen as he began a story about one of his days at sea where the Grand Line gave them one of its unpredictable storms during a battle with some marines.

He went on tiredly, barely hanging on to consciousness the longer he talked. But you enjoyed it. Endulging in tales like these were times you lived for. It was the stories you got to hear every once in a while that kept you going even though you felt like you were stuck in a rut in life.

The Grand Line was dangerous, you understood that first hand living on a neutral island right in the middle of it. Marines and pirates came and went freely, sometimes getting into bloody fights on the streets when they ran into each other. You'd seen the wrecked ships that limped to the docks from scraping by on the ocean waters. You'd heard the horror stories surrounding those that had gone to sea and only met their demise.

And still, you wanted nothing more than to one day leave this island to explore the Grand Line. You wanted to see and experience everything it had to offer yourself. The hard part was finding the will to leave and a crew willing to have a whore tag along. Just thinking about it was laughable, you knew someone like you wasn't meant for that kind of adventure. So you liked to live that life vicariously, through the seasoned sailors that found themselves in your company. This man was no different. He was nothing but more stories for you, more unfulfilled dreams and wishes.

----

The man fell asleep after you, that you were sure of. You could remember his voice turning into an unintelligible drone when you passed out, warm and comfortable by the stranger.

Both of you had shifted around throughout the night and now you laid on seperate halves of the bed, the morning light spilling through your balcony doors. It illuminated his sunkissed skin and showed off every detail of every scar on the wide expanse of his back. He'd flipped around to sleep on his stomach at some point during the night and now had his head twisted towards you, allowing you to take in his resting features.

He never made a move for another round of sex and from what you could gather, he'd planned on just going to sleep after sex. You'd never had a customer do that before, they always tried to get the most out of their night if they stayed for more than an hour or two. But that wasn't to say it wasn't a welcome break. It was nice having someone give you a warm body to sleep by for a night.

You examined his face as he continued to sleep the morning away. All his features seemed dark. His skin that may have been lighter at one point was permanently tanned from time on a ship. Though intimidating while awake, his face while sleeping made him look almost docile. That was until you once again let your gaze linger on the scars along his body.

He was covered in a plethora of tiny, silvery marks, most looked like cuts from knives or swords and such, a few were reminiscent of bullet grazes, and then there were some that looked like he'd been torn into by something ragged, maybe serrated. You couldn't help but think about his hands around your throat last night as well.

He was only docile now. In reality, he was a sleeping beast, safe as long as you didn't bother him.

But you couldn't fight the strange urge to touch him, without the need to make it sexual. You moved carefully to rest on your side, making sure to not disturb him, and then reached forward, gently running a finger over his brow. His nose scrunched up and he fidgeted slightly but didn't awake.

Emboldened, you moved to trace his jaw, feeling along the rough stubble that was beginning to form around the patches of facial hair he had styled from his jaw to his cheekbones. There was something to be said about how intimate touch like this really was, and about how you felt the need to be so delicate with a man you didn't know. You didn't even know his name.

The fine hairs on the back of your neck tingled and you felt a sudden urge to look back at his eyes. Your blood ran cold when you saw him staring back, he'd woken without a sound or moving a single muscle.

In a heartbeat, he'd snatched your hand, squeezing your wrist tightly. You were frozen in an overwhelming fear as his eyes dropped to your hand and then moved slowly back to meet yours once again.

"What're you doing?" He asked coldly.

"I-I don't know....I'm sorry."

And just as quickly as he'd grabbed you, he let go. You were still shook up as he pushed the sheets away and got up, making his way to the chase for his clothes. You simply watched, wondering what he would have done if he thought you were aiming to attack him in his sleep. It wasn't something you had to think on long, he would have surely killed you without a second thought.

He dressed quickly with his back to you and when all he had left was his boots and cape, he sat down on the chase, watching your covered form almost longingly. It was the biggest show of real emotion you'd seen from him. He shoved a foot in a boot and spoke up again.

"We have an island we've claimed nearby."

"....What for?" You figured it was best to go along like he hadn't caught you touching him like a curious child in his sleep.

"A base of operations. We'll probably be visiting here every once in a while because of it."

"I see." You knew where he was going with this. "I'll be here for you then, if you'll have me."

He finished with the boots and stood again to shrug on his cape and grab his trident, somehow making it disappear in the folds of the cape like before. Then he pulled a coin purse out from a pocket of his shorts and tried to offer it to you.

You shook your head. "The mistress will take your payment downstairs."

He nodded and headed for the door, leaving without another word.

Strange, you were almost missing the nameless beast already.