Darian was a rather traditional man. He preferred the missionary position. Holding Nami's beautiful, sweat-slicked body against him, looking into her eyes as he rode out the storm, was an unparalleled experience.
Panting heavily, Darian had only one thought in his mind: to claim her completely. The girl beneath him was simply too alluring.
Nami's large, jewel-like brown eyes were shrouded in a misty, delirious haze. Her cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and her entire body was burning hot to the touch. Her cherry-red lips were slightly parted, and captivating, needy moans escaped from her throat with every thrust.
Darian leaned down and captured her lips. Nami kissed him back with desperate fervor. Her cute, pink tongue was playful and demanding, swirling mischievously against his own. It was smooth, soft, and tasted of sweet wine. Darian wanted to swallow it whole.
After a passionate, breathless exchange, Darian finally broke the kiss, letting her gasp for air.
Nami's arms remained locked tightly around his neck, and her long, fair legs were firmly entwined around his waist, anchoring her against the fierce, relentless pounding of his hips.
Of all Nami's incredible features—aside from the impossibly tight, wet heat that currently enveloped him—Darian's favorite was her chest.
Despite her youth and years of malnutrition, Nami was magnificently developed. She wasn't a mature woman whose curves had softened with age; she was a vibrant, athletic young girl with an immaculate hourglass figure.
Darian trailed kisses down her sensitive neck and delicate collarbone before capturing one of her soft mounds in his mouth.
He couldn't grasp it all with one hand. They stood tall and firm, unyielding despite their weight, incredibly delicate and elastic like ripe peaches.
He kneaded and shaped the soft flesh, running his thumb over the hard, crimson peak. Nami arched her back, letting out a sharp, high-pitched moan. The sensation of his teeth grazing her nipple, combined with the wave after wave of intense thrusting from below, made her head spin.
She instinctively hugged his head tighter to her chest, twisting her hips to meet his rhythm.
Darian's free hand wasn't idle. He traced the smooth curve of her abdomen, her slender waist, and finally gripped her long, white thighs.
Nami's legs were smooth, delicate, and incredibly strong. Darian pulled them higher onto his shoulders, opening her further, and drove himself deeper.
The friction was intense. The secluded valley had become a flooded river.
Nami truly lived up to her title as a navigator of the sea; she was practically made of water. Her juices flowed freely, soaking Darian, soaking herself, and completely drenching the mattress beneath them.
The dam broke.
Nami convulsed wildly, her nails digging into Darian's back. She cried out his name, her internal muscles clenching around him like a vice. The scalding heat of her climax pushed Darian over the edge.
He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck, and unleashed his payload deep inside her.
For a long moment, the only sound in the cabin was their ragged, overlapping breathing.
When Darian finally pulled back, Nami's eyes were rolled back, her face contorted in a mask of exhausted bliss. She had fainted from the sheer intensity of the climax.
Darian shook his head helplessly, a fond smile on his face. 'This girl,' he thought. 'She initiates it, acts so tough, and then passes out before I'm even half done.'
With a soft pop, he pulled out.
He looked down at the ruined bed. The sheets were completely saturated.
'I basically need to buy new sheets every time we do this,' Darian mused.
He used his Human Path absorption to instantly clean her body and dry the immediate area. He pulled a blanket over her sleeping form, kissed her forehead, and stepped out of the cabin.
It was Darian's turn for the night watch. Alvida had taken the first shift, and Darian wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't sink the ship out of spite if he left her alone too long. After all, she used to be a pirate captain, and now she was essentially relegated to guard duty while he slept with another woman.
Darian pushed open the door to the dining area.
Alvida was sitting idly on the sofa, a glass of wine in her hand. She was glancing out the porthole, her face a mask of irritation.
"I didn't expect you to be so fast," Alvida scoffed, not looking at him.
Darian walked over and poured himself a glass of water. "Fast? It's been almost two hours. If Nami hadn't fainted, it would have been longer."
Alvida turned to look at him, her eyes tracing his torso. Underneath her open coat, her red-and-white striped bra did nothing to hide her massive cleavage.
"Tch. Useless girl, and she still screams so loudly," Alvida purred, giving him a provocative, hungry look. "Want to have a real contest? See who lasts longer?"
It was a blatant attempt at seduction.
Looking at Alvida's current flawless face, hot figure, and alluring attire, any normal man would have jumped at the chance.
But Darian couldn't shake the mental image of what she used to look like. Even though he had never seen her pre-Devil Fruit form in person, knowing her history—and her cruel, vain personality—killed the mood entirely. Plus, he had just emptied his reserves into Nami. He wasn't exactly desperate.
He decisively refused.
"No thanks. I don't have the desire right now," Darian said coolly. "You must be tired. Go get some rest. I'll take the watch."
Alvida's eyes flashed with annoyance. Being rejected by a man—especially now that she considered herself the most beautiful woman in the world—was a massive blow to her ego.
She scoffed, downed the rest of her wine in one gulp, and stood up. She stormed out of the galley, leaving a trail of heavy perfume in her wake.
Watching her leave, Darian muttered to himself. "So desperate. She spent her whole life as a tyrant, and now that she's pretty, she just craves validation."
Inside the master cabin, Nami—who had woken up the moment Darian left the bed—breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing Alvida's retreating footsteps. She knew Darian was a lecher, and she knew he would eventually seek out others, but she desperately hoped that day would come later rather than sooner.
(If Nami knew that Darian had already slept with Kaya and her own sister Nojiko, she wouldn't be breathing a sigh of relief; she'd be plotting his murder.)
In another small cabin, Carmen lay curled on her side in her hammock. She slowly pulled her hand out from beneath her blanket, her face flushed a brilliant crimson, panting softly.
Nami's screaming moans, the loud slapping of flesh, and the rhythmic creaking of the ship's timbers had echoed through the thin walls for hours. It had driven Carmen half-mad with second-hand embarrassment... and undeniable arousal.
This night was destined to be sleepless for the women on the ship.
Keeping watch was tedious, but it gave Darian time to think.
He sat at the helm, the cool night breeze washing over him. He used the quiet hours to mentally review the events of the past few weeks.
He also found a notepad and began writing down everything he could remember about the future timeline of this world—major events, key figures, hidden Devil Fruits, and locations. For a transmigrator, knowledge of the 'plot' was the most valuable weapon he possessed. He couldn't afford to forget the details.
Amidst Darian's various plans and considerations for building his empire, dawn broke.
Creak.
The galley door opened, and Carmen stepped out onto the deck. She was dressed in a crisp, white chef's uniform. As the ship's cook, it was her job to be the first one up to prepare breakfast.
"Good morning, Captain!" Carmen greeted him, her face still slightly flushed as she avoided making direct eye contact.
"Morning, Carmen," Darian smiled warmly. "Thanks for getting up early."
Seeing his smile, and instantly recalling the vivid, wet sounds from the previous night, Carmen's heart pounded. "I-It's my responsibility, Captain!"
She practically ran to the kitchen to busy herself with the pots and pans.
By the time Carmen had finished preparing a massive spread of bacon, eggs, and fresh bread, Nami and Alvida finally emerged from their cabins.
After a tense but delicious breakfast, Nami took the helm to adjust their course.
Around ten o'clock in the morning, the morning mist cleared.
Darian, Nami, Carmen, and Alvida stood at the bow of the ship, looking out at the horizon.
Rising out of the ocean, piercing the clouds, was a colossal, impossible mountain of red rock.
Reverse Mountain.
"We made it," Nami whispered, her eyes shining with excitement.
It was the gateway. The only entrance to the Grand Line.
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