A/N Hopefully the next couple of chapters will come along easier. I had a hard time with that last one.
This chapter will be the one to finally earn that M rating. It could have been written somewhat less gratuitously, but when you read it, I hope you can appreciate why I chose not to do so.
Still no replies on the "contest". Come on all you literature buffs. I'm waiting.
Chapter 14: A Challenge Met
His eyes widened. He pulled back from her, turning to enter the cabin to retrieve his compass. He would show the wench that it did indeed work. He just hoped that in his clumsiness he had not inadvertently made himself to be a liar … at least in this regard. Well … even before he dropped it … After a split second's hesitation he continued to pull away from her, when he felt her hands grip his arms. He slowly turned back to her as realization dawned on him, as his conscious thought caught up to what his body already recognized. Her challenge was not for him to show how his compass worked for him.
His breath quickened as did his heartbeat, and the pulsing in his ears almost deafened him. The sight before him dimmed at the edges as the flecks in her irises drew into sharp focus. He watched as her eyes slid down to his own mouth, and felt himself tighten further into stiff arousal when her tongue darted out of her mouth in a quick lip-moistening sweep. He sucked in a deep shaky breath, smelling and tasting her woodsy, musky scent, an aroma of which he had been all too aware since they had lain beneath the starless sky a few nights earlier.
Turner be damned. He was going to have her tonight, especially since she was all too eager to let him, and making him aware of it in no uncertain terms. She apparently was not so forgiving of Will's disposal of her, as Jack was in her doing likewise to him.
He leaned fully into her, allowing her to feel his excitement, as he sought out her lips in a bruising kiss. She met him full on, grinding her own form into his, from lips to thighs, clutching him to her as she opened her mouth, eagerly seeking to steal his breath from him. Tongues probing, hands stroking and grasping, they staggered into the cabin, with him brusquely guiding her back towards his table. He grabbed her around her middle, and gruffly hauled her up to sit her on the edge. Never taking their eyes off each other, they parted briefly as he began to rid her of her garments. As he peeled away her vest he realized that she had not made an attempt to bind her breasts as she had done earlier when they were sailing to find Will. Instead, his hand brushed against the front and he watched in delight as a nipple hardened and peaked, making a small tent out of the shirt. He hissed in anticipation of seeing that nipple up close. He placed a finger along the neckline of the chemise, tracing her collarbone, following the line down towards her cleavage. As he began to pull the opening wider, her hand snaked up to seize his.
"You are always wanting to make things square, Jack. I lost the vest. It's your turn to lose something."
He felt a whimper try to escape him from the back of his throat. He'd waited so long for this, that it seemed torture to make him wait longer now that he knew the moment had finally arrived. His erection was straining to break free, but he knew his pants could not be the first thing to lose. It seemed she was allowing him to make the choice.
"All right, darlin'," he agreed. "You lost the vest, I will lose mine. You lose the chemise, and I shall do the same. And so on and so forth. One thing you must remember, luv, the headgear remains where it is, savvy?"
"Agreed, as long as I keep my hat, as well," she smirked in reply. He cocked an eyebrow at her, visualizing the tricorn firmly perched on her head while she was in the throes of passion underneath him. He almost lost his stern expression, but instead, nodded to assent to this compromise.
"Besides, I understand your reluctance to show off all your scars," she whispered, softly stroking her thumb along his right eyebrow.
It was true. That particular scar was not a badge of honor that he bore. It was a painful memento of a stupid miscalculation in judgment on his part when he was still learning the ways of piracy. Being scalped was not a healthy way to continue into one's future, especially when the tribe involved did not traditionally practice that particular form of torture, and especially when the suggestion came from the one being tortured.
He wondered idly how Elizabeth had come across that bit of information, but since he was enjoying a rather pleasurable tonguing down his neck into his own collarbone area, he decided to ask her later. He let his eyes slowly shut as felt her reach into his shirt, pulling it open as she continued down his chest. He knew suddenly that she had changed the rules of the game already, since her chemise was not even untucked, but at this point he was almost past caring. He just wanted to enjoy this, at least while it lasted. He was never positive what cunning thing the minx had up her sleeve, but he enjoyed the anticipation immensely. He decided he could wait after all.
He felt her pull away, and he opened his eyes to see that she had a small crease formed between her eyebrows. She seemed a bit concerned with his lack of response. He went still, as she suddenly realized that it was her turn to disrobe. His breath began to quicken again as she slowly, ever so slowly started to pull her chemise out of her trousers. He felt himself begin to swell again, having lost some rigidity when he was distracted with his thoughts, and reached down to adjust, very casually running his hand up the shaft to encourage it along. She caught sight of the gesture, and reached down to do the same, watching his face to see his reaction. As soon as she did so, suddenly everything exploded.
Jack's hands burrowed up her sides underneath the chemise to hurriedly assist her in removing it. As she lifted it over her head, his tongued followed, burying itself between her breasts, breathing in her scent. He reached with his hands to encircle the mounds the best he could, allowing his calloused hands to scrape along the hardened nipples. Her hands entwined behind his head, entangling in his locks, as he kneaded one breast, feeling the soft pliability of the areola thicken and wrinkle up in his hand as he nursed on the other one, nibbling and licking at it with abandon. When the nipple softened and smoothed back into the breast, he turned to the other to give it the same treatment
He glanced up to her face, and almost lost control when he saw her full lips parted, panting, and her eyes closed in ecstasy. For someone who had never had any experience in being with a man, she certainly was taking to it easily enough. He began to wonder just how far she had gotten with Will, and it certainly explained her eagerness for her wedding night, although he had had no doubts that this was what she had desired. He decided that no matter how far they had explored, there was still much for him to teach her, and he was anticipating doing just that.
He drew her closer to him, allowing her to wrap her legs around his hips and he trailed his kisses and nibbles back up to her jawline, keeping his hand busy, kneading her breasts and pulling on her nipples. He knew from previous experience that was the perfect way to get her to focus on her more southerly region, for each pull, each tug sent a line of fire down to it, inflaming her. He knew it was working as she gripped her bottom lip with her teeth, and sucked in air as he did so. He set up a rhythm, soon becoming wrapped up in the pulse of it, and desiring this to go further, he reached behind her to cushion her as he laid her down on the table. He undid her breeches and began to slide them down her waist.
She suddenly came to her senses. The glare she gave him almost gave him pause, but he decided that he had had enough of her games. This time he was going to do it his way.
"Trust me, Lizzy," he said encouragingly, as he continued to slide her breeches down. He lifted her derriere off the table as they came off, and he was met with a sight that he had never expected to see. He dipped his finger in briefly and was met with a buck from her hips and a sigh. His erection spasmed as his finger felt her wetness, almost as if it could not wait to feel it for itself. It was all he could do to refrain from dropping his trousers and driving himself inwards. He heard her panting and little mewls of pleasure encouraged him to continue. He continued his ministrations on her breasts with one hand as he flicked his finger against the little nub at her center with the other, sliding his finger in a circular fashion around it, and upon occasion dipping back into her well to retrieve more of her copious moisture for lubrication. As he stroked her thusly, she reacted to the rhythm he had established. With each successive stroke and dip, she bucked and sighed, beginning to pant with almost a keening wail when he briefly pulled away. He soon began to feel her muscles tighten at each dip as if she was trying to hold his fingers prisoner. He thrust them in a little further each time, only allowing a brief taste of fullness. Soon he had three fingers dancing inside her, stroking her in spots that had begun to be sensitive to the point of agony, which was evident in her sobs of pleasure.
He realized at that point he needed to get some personal time in her pool. Feeding her frenzy with his hand did not satisfy his own hunger. With a tug, he pulled her curvaceous form off the table and settled her into his embrace, holding her as her legs entwined around his hips, grinding herself in thrusts against the bulge in his trousers. Blindly, he stumbled with his increasingly awkward and excited cargo towards his bunk, kissing and gnawing on her lips as he traveled. He landed unceremoniously on top of her in the rack, briefly squashing her. Regardless of the change in venue, she continued to pant and thrust herself against him. With a slight cry of his own he shoved his trousers towards his ankles and proceeded to lose himself within her folds, plunging into her depths.
Briefly he felt her spasm, and watched as her eyes closed and her breath cease as she experienced her first small orgasm. It was not enough to send him over the edge, so he continued stroking within her, feeling her flex and release. Her face, slack with pleasure and eyes heavy lidded with lust, gazed back up into his. He grinned, as if seeing the woman before him for the first time.
"Captain Jack," she moaned breathily, causing him to jerk a little inside her. He paused briefly to listen to her words, expecting the sort he often heard when women were impressed with his … technique. She sighed and spoke again. "You are soooo much better than …" Suddenly, she seemed to realize that she almost misspoke. Jack grinned wider at the implication.
"Of course, luv. I am not the eunuch such as your bonnie Will," he responded confidently as he watched her cheeks redden in a most becoming blush. Considering how dark it was in the cabin, she must have been quite embarrassed for him to see it, but instead of another sigh of contentment, she puffed out a gust of exasperation.
"It was not Will to whom I was referring," she breathed out, keeping him all too aware that he was still buried to the hilt between her legs. He was feeling himself twitch again, as if in reminder that he was not quite finished, when she, oh so casually, finished her thought. "I was referring to Hector."
After a brief, oh so brief and slightly horrifying, interlude, almost an eternal, but brief, interlude … he started thrusting. As he pushed himself up deeper into her, shoving inside as much of himself as he could, the initial look of discomfort at his rough handling gave way as he felt her constrict around him, both on the inside and with her arms around his waist. He turned his face away from hers, scrunching it up in intense concentration as he pounded into her, seeking release and relief. Her gasps and moans grew louder when she reached her second wave of ecstasy, and as she bucked violently in return, he spilled into her with a grunt and a shiver, enjoying what he could of her muscles milking the last drops into herself. He collapsed with a groan, remembering that it had been quite awhile since he had last had a woman, feeling aches that would normally have been pleasurable after such an escapade. Instead, he lay on his back, gulping in much needed air, and willing himself to stay awake long enough to finish what he planned to do. He felt her last sigh, and soon her body relaxed contentedly.
He turned her to face away from him as if to spoon her against him, while quickly divesting himself of the rest of his lower garments and boots to dump them over the side of the bunk, as he smoothly retrieved a hidden knife. Before she was able to turn to see what he was doing, the knife was pressed against the soft flesh of her throat.
"Now, lass," he whispered menacingly into her ear, feeling her suddenly tense with the realization of her perilous situation. "Let us revisit an earlier discussion. Who exactly are you … really?"