Sir Crocodile
“Like…like this?”
Crocodile liked to collect precious treasures from around the world. It was a privilege he often took advantage of when he was given the chance to. His name carried power and wealth behind it, enough to make an entire country bend at his feet and all but worship him like some kind of God amongst them. All according to plan, of course, not that would need to know that fine little detail. They never would need to know. Which is why it worked out so well in the end and he was able to send out every single one of his puppets to the ends of the New World to pluck up every treasure he could find. Some rare coins secured from the bottom of the ocean to a precious jewel stolen right out from a noble’s home who claimed it came from the Celestial Dragons themselves. It didn’t matter where it came from all that mattered was how rare and unique it was.
And you, by far, felt to be the most unique thing he’s added to his collection.
Crocodile could never say he was a lonely man. Being a Warlord brought perks to it. Perks of pirates throwing themselves at him in hopes of the extra protection that came with being associated to someone of that title, or a few brave marines who wanted something to brag about in terms of showing bravery. Occasionally a stray young woman in Alabasta had tried to take his interest when he was spotted walking in or out of the casino he owned. Other times it was familiar faces from his own works who attempted, once more, to sway him into their corner. It wasn’t that he was lonely, it was that he seen nobody worthy of his time. A quick fuck was different from the dedication he was prepared to show someone, anyone, who he deemed worthy.
And you caught his eye one day.
You weren’t a pirate. In fact, you weren’t much of anything when he saw you come through town, rags called clothing torn and coated in holes from the latest sand storm that he had caused. Not that you or anyone else would have known. You looked well enough in shape to have traversed such a desert and you were ready to offer up work to the first person you came across just for a place to stay for the night. Of course, he had tried to ignore this immediate pull to you and tried to just move on for the evening, focusing on the work he needed to give his entire dedication to.
That lasted until almost morning when he managed to catch you in the streets before you could slip out of town. Your clothes had been fixed up well enough and you looked ready for travel when he had cornered you, asking if you would rather have a more permanent job and residence. Believing it to be a trap you had denied him, which he had taken very well considering who he was and how dare anyone deny his generous offer. Once you seemed to realize who he was and what he did, what purpose he was serving this country, you agreed.
And eventually found yourself seated on one of his broad thighs, the current dress he had bought you (because when you work for him you have to dress the part) pulled up to expose the lace he had also bought you. The gifts had come immediately once you were hired, as was the expensive spa treatment normally reserved for the nights he was particularly stressed. Your denials had been cute until he made it known you would accept them, then it turned to charming when you shyly took every gift. Once you were cleaned of the dirt on your body and given some chance to gain the weight you had obviously lost in your travels, Crocodile found you to look like something of a jewel. Not just any jewel. But his own private, personal, single jewel that he wasn’t about to share with anyone else. Nobody else. That’s why once you were livelier he took you away, told you that you’d never have to work again and locked you right up inside of his own private little quarters to stay with him.
Like currently, while he was sitting at his desk and trying to take a break from the paperwork that had been plaguing him to instead play with you.
You were wet and soaking a warm, wet patched right on his thigh and it made his already aching cock twitch against his pants, but he withheld himself. This wasn’t the moment to indulge in himself. No, he was showing something else off entirely as his broad hands encircled your waist, thumbs digging in slightly as he tugged and maneuvered you just to show you how to roll your hips.
“Like this.” He confidently whispered and was rewarded with a sharp, beautiful gasp from you that stirred him further. He guided your hips until the motions were your own, watching how you took up a slow, uncertain motion with your hands resting on his chest. Right where he had left them. You were always so good for him and so good at following his orders that he never had to worry about disobedience. Which is why he allowed himself to close his eyes and lean his head back, exposing the length of his throat to the soft kisses he expected you to pepper it with. Soft, gentle kisses that had you edging up and along the sharp pulse. This close he could hear every gasp, every whine, and feel when your thighs shook as they cupped his own.
“A-ah.” Your moan was like syrup to his ears and he let his mouth open to breath in the smell of you as you bucked against him. Your pace was gaining speed, gaining momentum, all on your own. His hands were there to steady to, to keep you from tumbling off him in the eager way you were moving. But he let you do it all, let you set the pace as your nails dug through his clothing and into his chest. Crocodile lifted his leg and flexed it just slightly, enough to throw off your rhythm and make you gasp and moan louder than before, your head falling to rest on his shoulder.
The pattern you followed in your grinding was faltering and he knew without having to look down you were close.
“Come on me.” He ordered.
And you always obeyed his orders.