-1Wonderful Life
Chapter Twenty-Four: White Roses Turned Red
Hazel followed Jack onboard, her side now in incredible pain. Her breathing ragged, she could barely lift herself up on deck of the Pearl if Jack didn't pull her up. Gibbs watched the two interact, a bushy eyebrow raised. Well, one piece of the plan was accomplished, and yet their pockets (or Jack's for that matter) seemed coin-less. The crew was standing around Gibbs, the same look of expectancy and then confusion on each of their dirty faces.
"Not quite according to plan," Gibbs said, eyeing the two.
"I need to clean a wound," Jack said, ignoring Gibbs's dry comment. "Hazel and I shall be in my quarters. Bring rum and a towel."
Hazel furrowed her brow as she gripped Jack's forearm to steady her balance. Dizziness was now taking place, but she still heard Jack's request of Gibbs. "Rum?" she said slowly, making sure she articulated her words precisely. "Why are you going to drink rum when you're cleaning my wound?"
Jack watched her, sighing as he gently led her to his cabin. "It's not for me, luv," he responded softly, opening the door for her and leading her to the bed in the center of the room. "It's for you're wound." He gently placed her down on the cushiness of the bed, wrapping an arm around her smaller-than-usual waist. He looked at her dress; the material was absolutely gorgeous, bringing out her eyes more than he had ever seen before. The dress flattered her figure… and yet, he knew it had to come off. "Luv, you're going to have to trust me on my next request. I need you to take off your dress and change into some of my clothes so I can get to the wound a bit more easy." His eyes seemed sincere enough, Hazel thought, so she motioned her finger in a turn-around manner. Jack was about to refuse, but thought better at it and turned around as Hazel began to undress. Once the dress was off, and Hazel was extremely exposed, she realized there were no clothes presented to her. She was stuck.
Placing two hands on Jack's broad shoulders, and standing on her tip toes, she leaned her face next to Jack's ear, and whispered, "Where are the articles of clothing, Mister Sparrow?"
Jack's hairs stood on the end of his skin as her whisper made its way into his ear. She was actually naked, touching his shoulders and whispering into his ears. If he just cocked his head slightly, he would be able to see her in absolutely nothing but her starkies. What an opportunity that had somehow presented itself, and Jack was always the king of taking advantages of presented opportunities. What if…? Should he…? "In the drawers," he said, clearing his voice a bit, keeping his eyes on the wall in front of him. Well, the first presented opportunity that he did not take advantage of. That was very interesting now, wasn't it.
Hazel sauntered over to the dresser's adjacent to Jack's bed, and pulled out a white tunic and black breeches, putting them on gently, being wary of her injury. She tied the shirt up, so Jack could reach the cut easier, and then smiled at Jack, whose back was still towards her. "You can turn around now," Hazel said, sitting back down on the bed.
Jack turned around, avoiding Hazel's gaze. Something was clearly wrong with him. Why didn't he turn around, even to catch a glimpse of side cleavage? Maybe a certain feeling that he was trying to deny, to hide was suddenly coming up in different yet very small actions that normally wouldn't have occurred if it was anyone else. Yes, that's right. He loved her. He loved her very much. And the reason he didn't look at her while she was changing was because he wanted her to be the one who showed him herself. God, he was such a pussy when it came to her. Did she realize just how tightly he was wrapped around her finger? Jack, then, kneeled down, looking intently at Hazel's wound, his fingers brushing lightly over his exposed skin, causing Hazel to inhale sharply. Immediately, Jack's fingers left Hazel's side. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern.
Jack had misinterpreted Hazel's sharp breathing. "Yeah," she managed to say. She had inhaled so sharply due to the fact that his fingers, just his few fingers, gave her chills up and down her spine.
It was then that Gibbs made his way with a bottle of cheap rum, a cloth, and bandages as well. "Here ye go, Capt'n," he said, backing out as fast as he came in. He looked at Hazel. "I hope ye get better, lass." With that, he disappeared out the door.
"Alright, luv," Jack said as he poured a small amount of rum in the thick cloth. "Now, this is going to hurt," he said, "so I advise you grip the pillows or something, and although it seems like a good idea scream, don't, or else the crew be thinkin' somethin' here is up, if ye catch my drift."
"Just do it, Jack!" Hazel exclaimed in anticipation. Jack frowned at Hazel's outburst, but nonetheless placed the damp towel of rum on her wound. Once the cloth hit her skin, Hazel squealed in surprise, not quite expecting that amount of pain that came from the towel. She gripped Jack's shoulder tightly, almost causing him to cry out, but Jack managed to keep his mouth shut as he cleaned the wound. After a moment, Jack lifted Hazel's shirt a bit more, so he could easily tie the bandage around her waist. His eyes danced with lust as he noticed her small bellybutton, her soft, and yet flat stomach breathe in and out… God, he wanted to touch her. Not just accidentally, but intently, with intimacy. He wanted her to cry out, moan, say his name… Jack pushed these thoughts in the back of his head; he had a task to finish. Gently, he wrapped the bandage around Hazel's wound, as she watched him with curious eyes. Big, bad Jack Sparrow was soft and sweet deep down, now wasn't he. He tied it, tight enough to maintain itself, yet loose enough so the cut wouldn't ache.
When he was finished, Jack looked up at Hazel with intense brown eyes, that goosebumps sprung out across her body from nowhere. Neither moved, they just looked at one another, a shared look expressed between their eyes. Hazel could feel her face turn red from the extremity of the stare, and she turned to her dress, her hair covering her face. "Richard told me about Davy Jones," she said, grabbing the wrinkled picture of the key. She handed it to Jack. "He showed me this. I thought you might want it."
Jack took the picture from Hazel, staring at it intently. A knock on the door tore his eyes from the picture and to the door. "Come in," Jack said gruffly, and there appeared half of his crew, with Gibbs in the front. Hazel quirked a brow, her look of wonder mirroring Jack's. "Well, then?" Jack asked, after a moment of silence.
"Well," Gibbs said, his eyes behind his back in some may say was nervousness. "How was everythin' on the island?"
"Complications arose, ensued, were overcome," Jack said, still wondering what half of his crew was doing in his cabin.
"You got what you went in for, then?" Gibbs asked, eyeing Hazel.
"O'course," Jack said, looking at Hazel as well.
"Captain, I think the crew, meaning me as well, were expecting something a bit more... shiny," Gibbs said, his meaning clear now to both Jack and Hazel. "What with the Isla de Muerta going all pear shaped, reclaimed by the sea, and the treasure with it…" He stopped, and then concluded, "It's seems some time since we did a speck of honest pirating."
"Shiny?" Jack asked, standing up, the picture noticeable in his hand. "Is that how you're all feeling, then?" he asked, glancing at each member of his crew. "Perhaps dear old Jack is not serving your best interests as captain?"
"Awk!" the bird said, perched on Cotton's shoulder. "Walk the plank!"
"What did the bird say?!" Jack asked, taking out his pistol and pointing it at the bird. Hazel stood, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder, restraining him for going through with shooting the bird. He was on edge… and Hazel knew why. Jones was after Jack now.
"Do not blame the bird," a crew member named Leech said. "Show us what is on that piece of cloth there."
Before Jack could say anything, "Jack" the money, who seemed to have stowed on Jack's ship due to the fact that he was rather comfortable at this certain habitat, grabbed the parchment from Jack. Jack, points his pistol at the money, and shot it, but his pistol happened to misfire. So, Jack grabbed another member of the crew's pistol, and quickly shot the monkey. The monkey dropped the parchment, but is otherwise unfazed, and quickly scampered back on deck.
"Know that don't do no good," Gibbs remarked dryly.
Jack shrugged, not caring in the least bit. "It does me," he replied.
The shortest member of the crew reached down and picked up the piece of parchment. He opened it and his eyes widened. "It's a key!"
"No!" Jack said, taking the key from Marty and holding it so he could look at it more closely for himself. "Much more better." He paused for dramatic effect. "It is a drawing of a key." He glanced at Hazel, swinging his arm over her shoulders. "Thanks to this lovely woman right here, we have a drawing of a key."
The crew were still dumbfounded. Hazel cleared her throat, repeating Richard's words to her previously. "What do keys do, gents?" she asked them, and Jack grinned, looking down at her.
"Keys... unlock... things?" Leech said, trying to guess but still confused. Was this some sort of riddle the two were playing?
"And whatever this key unlocks, inside there's something valuable," Gibbs guessed confidently. "So, we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks!"
"No!" Jack said with a smile on his face. "If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever it is we don't have that it unlocks." He handed the piece of parchment to Hazel for safekeeping while he stepped forward to his crew, his smile revealing slight mischievousness. "So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it?" His brow raised to emphasize his question.
"So," Gibbs said, trying to make things as clear as they could possibly with Jack Sparrow. "We're going after this key!"
Jack tilted his head to the side, a look of confusion on his face. "You're not making any sense at all, mate," he said, then turned to the rest of his crew. "Any more questions?" He looked at the expectantly.
"Yeah…" Marty said. "Do we have a heading?"
Jack smiled, taking out his special compass and flipping it open. He watched as the needle turned to the left, and then to the right, and then stopped landing on the heading… which happened to be a female. Jack furrowed his brow, shaking the compass and opening it once again, but it happened to rest on the girl beside him. "Hah!" he exclaimed in frustration, then walked out of his cabin and out onto deck, looking around. His crew followed closely behind while Hazel brought up the rear. "A heading. Set sail in a... mmm... a general... in that way - direction." He pointed in the direction, and Hazel pursed her lips. He didn't know where to go. What was wrong with his compass? Wasn't it special or something? "Come on, snap to and make sail, you know how this works," he ordered. "Come on, Oy, quick, quick, hey!" He clapped his hands as his crew bustled about.
"Jack," Hazel murmured in a specific tone that caused Jack to turn to her. "You don't know where we're going, do you?"
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack said as he made his way back into his cabin, with Hazel following him. "I know everything about everything about everything."
Hazel rolled her eyes as she followed him back into the room. "What's in that head of yours, Jack?" she asked him, furrowing her brow. Something wasn't exactly right, and Hazel wanted to figure out why she was feeling this way.
Jack sat at his desk, a map laid out in the middle of it. Rolling her eyes, Hazel plopped herself on the bed. Jack had not said a word, and Hazel shrugged it off, wishing he would tell her what he was up to, but knowing that she couldn't force him to do so. Sighing, she stretched out, the pain in her head quite subsided due to Jack's delicate handiwork. Watching him from the corner of her eye, Hazel smiled a small smile as she realized how cute Jack looked as he stared intently at the map, plotting and doing whatever else captain's did with maps. She was practically asleep, wrapped up in the regal blankets, her head on the fluffy pillow, when she heard Jack murmur to himself.
The pirate captain's eyes were tiring, not wanting to look at this lamp. But it could not be helped. Now that he had the picture, he could achieve his goal of being an immortal pirate forever. Sail the seven seas, and yes, he had to usher a few souls into the afterlife and whatnot, but forever would he remain a pirate. A very soft snore caused Jack's eyes to turn toward the girl, wrapped up in his sheets. She was asleep. In his bed. She was so beautiful, the moon cascading a light over her soft features, except, of course, for her jaw line. Her jaw line was sharp and stubborn, just like her. God, he loved her. So, why hadn't he told her yet?
Jack rubbed his eyes, and tried to take a swig from his precious rum. "Why is the rum always gone?" he said, turning over an empty bottle and watching as nothing, not one drop of rum coming out to join him on the desk. How many had? He got up, and nearly fell back at how much he had drunk beforehand. "Oh," he murmured, "that's why." Placing his tri-corn hat on the globe sitting on his desk, Jack cast another glance at Hazel, who was now waking up.
"Jack?" Hazel asked groggily. "What time is it?"
"Too late, luv," Jack replied, softly, watching with a small smile at her messy hair and squinted eyes. "Or too early, depending on how ye look at it. Go back to bed, yeah?"
"Where are you going?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and sitting up, cross legged.
"Just going to get rum," he said. "Go back to sleep."
Hazel didn't respond to Jack's suggestions, but pulled herself out of bed and went to stand next to Jack. Jack was about to tell her to go back to bed yet again, but stopped short knowing that it would do no good. He grabbed her hand, and the two walked down the stairs together. Hazel rested a tired head on Jack's shoulder, trying to suppress a yawn, as Jack looked around looking for a bottle of rum. "What's your plan, Jack?" Hazel asked, slipping her arm through Jack's.
Jack looked down at Hazel, a frown evident on his face. Should he tell her? Should he not? He hadn't quite worked out the sharp edges of his most brilliant plan ever, which meant he hadn't figured Hazel into this particular equation. Her eyes had already captured his heart, pulling on its strings, and he knew he couldn't lie with the specific charm he could have done with anyone else. He could never refuse those eyes. "I'm planning to steal the heart of Davy Jones," he said softly to her. "That way, I can stab it and kill Jones. No debt."
Hazel furrowed her brow, trying to process what Jack was saying especially after just waking up. "Wait," she said. "Doesn't that ship need a captain?" she asked. "So if you stabbed the heart, you'd automatically be its captain." Hazel shook her head, now fully awake. "No," she said firmly. "I disagree. You're not allowed to stab the heart."
"Excuse me, luv?" Jack asked, annoyance flashing in his eyes. He knew Hazel wouldn't like the idea, but ordering him around like that was not happening. "Who's the captain here? I am not committed to you, and, to be quite frank, I didn't have to tell you my plan in the first place." He brow arched down, as Hazel retracted her arm through Jack's and let it hang limply at her side.
"You're selfish, Captain Sparrow," she said, more betrayed than angry. "I can't believe you're actually going to go through with this."
Jack was about to respond, when his hand found a rum bottle. Taking it, he quirked a brow as barnacles covered it. "Ye two are still fighting?" a voice said, causing Hazel to jump. Jack opened the bottle, and poured out naught but sand.
"Bootstrap?" Jack asked, blinking his eyes, his spat with Hazel now forgotten. "Bill Turner?" Hazel recognized him too, and her heart dropped. For the most part, Bootstrap looked as he did so many years ago, and yet a few barnacles managed to attach themselves to Bootstrap's body. Hazel's mouth opened a bit with sympathy.
"Jack Sparrow," Bootstrap said, staring at both Jack and Hazel. "You look good. Hazel, you do too. You've grown up nicely. I'm glad to see you're still keeping Jack in line." Hazel managed to smile at Bootstrap, but it was mirthless. Why, exactly, was he here, and why did he look like that?
"Is this a dream?" he asked, his eyes squinting in confusion. Bootstrap shook his head, and Jack sighed. "I thought not. If it were, there'd be rum and women would learn to trust their counterparts." He sent Hazel a dry look, which she just seethed back at him. Bootstrap grinned at the interaction between the two, and handed Jack a bottle of rum. Jack's eyes lighted up, although it took a good effort to pry the bottle from the barnacled hands. Once he did so, Jack sniffed the mouth of the bottle, and smiled. It was really rum! He wiped the mouth of the bottle.
"You got the Pearl back, I see," Bootstrap said, looking around a bit.
"I had some help retrieving the Pearl, by the way," Jack said, and then paused, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Your son." He finally took a drink of the rum, the hot liquid tantalizing every taste bud as it traveled down his throat.
"William?" Bootstrap asked, being slightly taken aback. He glanced at Hazel, who smiled encouragingly at him, nodding. Bootstrap turned back to Jack, a small smile playing on his face. "He ended up a pirate after all."
"Give a liberaldefinition of the word pirate," Jack remarked dryly. "He's got an unhealthy streak of honesty to him." He pursed his lip in a frown, taking another swig of his rum.
"That's something, then," Bootstrap replied. "Though no credit to me."
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your carbuncle?" Jack asked, now wishing to know the point of Bootstrap's visit.
"Davy Jones," Bootstrap said. "He sent me as an emissary." He cast a look over at Hazel, and then back at Jack. Hazel frowned, slipping her arm through Jack's again, their previous quarrel forgotten for the moment.
Jack nodded, expecting this. "Ah," he said. "So it's you, then. He shanghaied you into service, eh?"
"I chose it," Bootstrap said, then sighed. "I sorry for the mutiny again, Jack." Jack waved it off with his free arm. "Everything went wrong after that. I didn't end up cursed or whatnot, and yet I was not dead. All I could do was think. And mostly I thought, even the tiniest hope of escaping this fate… I would take it." He paused, his eyes far away. "Trade it for anything."
"That is the kind of thinking bound to catch his attention," Jack observed.
"It did," Bootstrap said, nodding in the affirmative. "Davy Jones came. Made the offer. I could spend one hundred years before the mast, with the hope that after, I would go on to a peaceful rest." A hermit crab scuttled by Bootstrap, who quickly grabbed the small animal, and ate it. Hazel scrunched her nose in disgust. Where was the chef who could take the worst possible food and turn it into something delicious? Where was Bootstrap? Jack handed the bottle of rum back to Bootstrap, his face reflecting disgust.
"It's funny what a man will do to forestall his final judgment," Jack said, his brow raised. The tone suggested to Hazel he wasn't just talking about Bootstrap.
"You made a deal with him too, Jack," Bootstrap said. "He raised the Pearl from the depths for you, and thirteen years, you've been her captain."
"Technically," Jack began, raising his forefingers. Hazel still kept her arm through Jack's though, worried about his safety, and his fate.
"You won't be able to talk your way out of this one," Bootstrap murmured seriously to Jack. "The terms that apply to me apply to you as well. One soul, bound to crew a lifetime upon his ship."
Hazel squeezed Jack's arm tightly, as though she would not let him leave her. Jack didn't appear to notice Hazel's worry. "The Flying Dutchman already has a captain," Jack said smoothly, "so there's no need for me."
Bootstrap sighed and nodded as though he expected this. "Then it's the Locker for you," he murmured back. "Jones' leviathan will find you and drag the Pearl back down to the depths, you along with it."
"Any idea when Jones might release said terrible beastie?" Jack asked, curiously.
"I told you, Jack," Bootstrap said. "Your time is up." He reached out and took Jack's hand in his, then dropped it to the ground. "It's not a matter of how long until it finds you," he said, "it's a matter of how long until you're found." Jack and Hazel stared intently at his hand, a black spot marking Jack. When they both looked up, Bootstrap was nowhere to be seen.
Jack and Hazel turned to each other, and then, without saying anything, dashed upstairs and on deck, waking any and all sailors. "On deck all hands!" he exclaimed, as the sailors rushed to obey him. "Make fast the bunt gasket! On deck! Scurry!" Once on deck, Hazel rushed into Jack's room and quickly grabbed a stray piece of cloth. As Jack continued to order his crew, Hazel took his hand and wrapped it up, covering the Black Spot. "All on deck! Run! And keep running! Run as if the devil himself and itself is upon us!"
Jack made his way to the mast, with Hazel close behind. Gibbs sought his way through the crew, and looked at Jack expectantly. "Do we have a heading, Captain?"
Jack looked at Gibbs. "Land!" he exclaimed.
"What port?" Gibbs asked.
"I didn't say port!" Jack exclaimed. "I said land. Any land!" It was then that "Jack" the monkey landed on Jack's shoulder, screeching. Hazel jumped nearly three feet in the air, as the monkey practically kicked Jack's tri-corn off his head, which landed in the sea. Jack's precious hat, simply floating in the water.
"Jack's hat!" Gibbs exclaimed. "Bring the ship about!"
"No!" Jack shouted back, causing Hazel to widen her eyes. "Leave it."
"For the love of mother and child, Jack," Gibbs said, his eyes brimming with slight fear, "what's coming after us?"
Jack looked out at the water, fear evident in his eyes. Jack shook his head to Gibbs, and shoed him away, in a manner of getting him back to work. Gibbs paused, but obeyed Jack, and made his way to help the crew. It was at this time that Hazel wrapped her arm around Jack's waist, squeezing him with comfort. Jack looked down at this simple gesture, and nearly smiled. He was so glad she was with him, and returned the favor by wrapping his arm around her shoulders, the two silently staring out at sea. After a moment, Hazel looked up at Jack, and gently pushed him so they went back to his cabin, albeit slowly. Jack took a seat on the bed, and softly took off his boots for him. They made intimate eye contact as each one landed over to the side of the floor with a thud. An odd sensation popped up in Hazel's stomach, as though something lovely was about to take place, and she crawled up to sit on the bed, close to him, their eyes never breaking contact.
"Luv," Jack said, his voice low and husky and his eyes even darker than usual. "I have to tell you something." He paused, the words running through his mind in multiple different ways. He had to pick them out, so what he could say would be perfect. "I need you," he finally said.
"You have me," Hazel murmured.
Jack raised his hand to slowly caress Hazel's cheek, opposite sensation of both his rough, calloused hand against her soft, smooth skin. Her head tilted again, and this time, instead of waiting to be kissed by the rugged captain before her, she rose her head slowly and captured Jack's lips with hers. They were incredibly soft, which was not what, exactly what she expected. Jack's eyes remained opened, completely surprised by the kiss, but after a moment of feeling her full lips on his, he slowly closed his eyes and began to kiss her back. One arm crept up and held the back of her neck, while another arm wrapped possessively around her waist. He was hungry, and wanted her. Not for an appetizer, nor for desert. He wanted her for dinner. Gently, Jack sucked on her bottom lip, nibbling ever so slightly on it. Hazel's arms snaked up his tight torso to his shoulders and wrapping them around his neck, pulling him closer to her, if ever that was possible. Opening her mouth even more slightly, she gave him permission to enter her mouth. Jack did not hesitate, as his tongue seemed to be in a dance with hers. He had to taste every inch of her, for she was his, and he wanted to explore her. Once the kiss came to a stop, Hazel gazed at Jack, and a soft sigh of content came from her. She wanted him, needed him to be inside of her. She wanted to feel all the sensations she only before imagined, and she wanted him to be the first to give her those sensations. Coyly, she crawled over to the head of the bed, never taking her eyes on him. He turned on the bed, facing her, his coal-rimmed eyes penetrating her, wanting her, needing her. She was teasing him. He crawled over to you, his whole body covering the young girl's, and yet not touching her.
"An interestin' position we find ourselves to be in, hmm, luv?" Jack whispered, his husky voice giving Hazel goosebumps.
"And what should we do about it?" she asked softly, innocently, and yet her eyes gave away the desire that she wanted. And she wanted to be the one to give it to her. "I want you," she said, her naivety creeping up in the light blush that caressed her face.
"I love you."
There he said it. It was out there, for her to use it how she wanted.
"I love you." A pause. "I've been trying to tell you since the last time we were on the Isla de Muerta."
The two stared at each other, genuine smiles both on their faces, and yet lust still danced in their eyes.
"I want you too."
"Then take me."
That was all Jack needed to here. His mouth crashed onto hers, the need that he had been trying to make subtle now completely erect and at attention. He was on top of her, his hardness pressing into her thigh, which caused her to jump and break the kiss. She looked down, and her blush slightly increased. Jack smiled a small smile. How long ago had he deflowered his last virgin? He couldn't remember and didn't care if he never did. All that mattered was that she was willingly giving herself up to him. Not just because of the fact that he was Jack Sparrow. It was so much more than that. How amazing. This girl could literally give herself to anybody, and yet she decided it was he who had the honor to do so. He stared deeply into her eyes. So much trust, and maybe even fear. No, not fear. Nervousness. She wanted to do it right. She wanted to matter, more than any other girl he had ever slept with.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know."
"I don't just mean with making love."
"Oh?"
"I want you for the rest of my life."
"You have me, I said. Now, please, take me."
A smirk, turned into a grin. "With pleasure."
Jack kissed her softly now, slowly. Sensually. His free hand crept down, fondling the hem of his shirt that she was wearing, his fingertips brushing lightly on her bare skin. She smiled through the kiss with pleasure at the sense of his skin touching hers with intention. The kiss broke, but their eyes did not, and his hands found their way to her shirt, unbuttoning each button. Once he was finished, he slowly pulled the shirt apart and carelessly disposed of it over the side of the bed. He reached to her pants, inching them off of her until they, too, joined their counterpart on the floor. Hazel was incredibly self-conscious under Jack's scrutinization. Her boobs were big and everything, but her left one was slightly bigger than the right one, and her torso was soft, but not as flat as it could be. Her hips bones were in a somewhat attractive way, protruded from her hips, and the dark curls on her womanhood were soft. Her legs were long, and her thighs were maybe a bit too thick.
These thoughts were only Hazel's and did not reflect Jack's whatsoever. He saw before him a beautiful, innocent goddess. He could tell it was her first time by the awe and nervousness in her eyes. Her neck was long and slender, her breasts were round and ample, her stomach soft and lean, her legs long. She was drop-dead gorgeous, and she was all his. He began unbuttoning his dirty tunic, his eyes never leaving hers. As he dropped the shirt, Hazel's eyes drew wondrously toward his chest. His shoulders were big and broad, his torso tight and fit. Different tattoos traced around his skin, and scars decorated the body, which had a story individually. Her maternal instinct kicking in, Hazel began caressing each scar, sword scars, bullet wounds, everything. Jack's throat echoed with a moan. She was teasing him, and she had no idea, which added to the teasing that much more.
"Help me with my pants, please."
"You said please."
"I am, quite the gentleman, contrary to my looks." Pants dropped on the floor.
Hazel's eyes dropped to the very low part to his torso, and then to his pelvis. A happy trail danced down into his nether regions, and his erect want was interesting to look at for Hazel. Even a bit frightening, knowing that that was going to enter her. Would it fit? Would she bleed? Will it hurt? She was worried, and Jack saw this.
"I'm not goin' in until I have your permission."
"You have it."
"No." A pause. "I want you to want it. No need to be so nervous. I'm not going to hurt you."
"I'm not worried about that." Hesitation. "I just want to be perfect for you."
"Luv, no matter what happens, this will be the most memorable experience I have ever had with a member of the opposite sex."
"Really?"
"I promise. You have my word."
Hazel eased up a bit, and then looked at Jack, nodding slightly. Jack gave her a loving smile, and slowly pushed himself into her. Bracing for the worst, Hazel wrapped her arms tightly around Jack, and closed her eyes tightly as she felt his large member enter her. It hurt, she realized, opening her eyes, but it didn't hurt that bad. She let out a content sigh as every inch of herself felt Jack in her. This was where he was supposed to be. Jack let out a sigh as well, and ended into a rough moan. He was slow, and gentle with her. Hazel didn't feel anything in particular at this moment. It was odd, it was weird, but it felt right. Jack was grinning like a madman, Hazel's insides exactly how he imagined them to be, only better. They were wet, tight, and his. Now she was molded in his form. He knew she couldn't, at this moment, feel all the wonderful sensations he was feeling, but she would. His rhythm was steady and his breath grew ragged.
A moan.
Jack's gaze drew sharply to Hazel's face. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy, her mouth contorted into a small 'o'. Her back arched so it was a better experience of pleasure, not only for herself but for him as well. Jack watched her as her brows pushed together in… Was that frustration? Her eyes suddenly opened, the green orbs fiery.
"Harder."
A smirk. "Warmin' up to me, luv?"
Brows raised. "You have no idea."
Hazel moans were now as loud and descriptive as Jack's, her fingernails digging into his back as each pumped weakened her insides. She was on the verge on popping, and Jack was too.
"I want to come with you, luv."
"Please, yes."
After a certain thrust, Hazel was pushed on the brink of reaching her climax. It was as if everything from that point on was slow motion, and that much more sensitive to touch. Jack kept going, feeling her inside pulsing. Biting his lip, he had to control himself from releasing his pleasure.
Another moan.
"Yes, Jack."
Release from both. Panting. Collapsing.
"I love you, luv."
"I love you too, Jack."
Sleep. Together.
Author's Notes: Sexytime! Haha, just kidding. Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! Please, keep them coming. However, I need you guys to vote on something. As you know, I posted a short-lived story about Hazel's younger sister Celia falling into Middle Earth. I removed it because it was not that great. However, I do wish to write about her, and I want you to vote on whether I should keep the Middle Earth prospect (and place it seven years into the future so that Ce's twenty-one) OR should she go to Hogwarts during the fourth year? Please tell me in your reviews, and whichever gets the most votes, is what I'll write on. If you don't have a preference, just put whichever is easier to type. I'll post the winner in the next couple chapters of Wonderful Life. Thank you!