Title: Foggy Night Serenade 5/?
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't sue
Summary: Definition of the word "anything"
Author's Note: I'm so, so, so sorry this chapter took so long! The school internet was down for a long time and then it was up but my Word program didn't work. Anyway, here it is and I'd worship any feedback you want. Hope ya'll enjoy!
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"Anything," Jack echoed softly, staring down at her body in a mixture of disbelief and ache. He wanted to take advantage of that, the pirate in him already had her on the bed and naked under him, rough and hard. The gentleman in him was outside the cabin, drinking himself to oblivion and trying his damnedest to forget that the heavy green lids were staring up at him with wonder and need. Then there was the part of him that was neither pirate nor gentleman, an ordinary bloke who wanted to protect her because she needed protecting and love her because she needed loving. The part of him that was still just Jack wasn't sure what the hell to do, but he knew what he wanted to do. It was somewhere between all three, hard and rough, oblivious and chivalric, and then of course protective and loving. It'd been a long time since he'd felt so conflicted and he wasn't sure he liked it. "That'd be a very broad term, lass."
Her hands were clenched so hard in the folds of the skirt that they trembled slightly. She blinked, forcing herself to look him in the eye and unclench them. They seemed to rise of their own volition and go to the bodice of the dress. He opened his mouth and then closed it abruptly, his throat gone dry. Her fingers caressed the cloth, finding the strings that held it together and trailing down to the bow. She untied it slowly, the moment drew out and if he'd known better he would have sworn she was doing it on purpose. But the look in her eyes was just as scared as the tremor in her fingers proclaimed it to be. "I don't care," she answered his statement softly, the laces loosening under her touch and the over dress gaped, allowing him a glimpse at a long line of chemise.
For the first time since she'd boarded the ship Jack damned himself for not allowing her a corset. At least that would have afforded her a bit more modesty, and him a bit more to divert his eyes from the thin layers of cloth separating him from bare skin. The jade silk shrugged again and it left her shoulders. She spread her arms and it slid completely down her shoulders, catching briefly on her elbows before puddling into the floor. The chemise was thin, so thin that he could see the flush of her skin spreading from her chest to her throat. "Do ye have any idea what ye're doin' love?" He forced himself to keep with who he was. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, scourge of the high seas, he wouldn't lose that. He'd slipped earlier in her presence, it wouldn't happen again. She shook her head.
"No," Isabelle answered softly, the thin straps of the chemise threatening to slide down her shoulders as the dress had. "I have no idea what I'm doing." Her hands flattened, going through the air between them, air that suddenly felt like a wall, and settling on his chest. The cotton of his shirt felt warm under her fingers, warm from his skin. "But I know I don't want to stop," she finished, her eyes pleading for something that she wasn't even sure she could name.
"Why?" he asked softly, suddenly unable to stop his own hands from gently cupping her cheeks. "This changes nothing, Isabelle." She froze.
"But you said if-"
"I asked you what you were willing to do for Anamaria. I never said it would dissuade me from what I was going to do to her." She glared up at him, his hands had left her cheeks, grabbing her wrists so that she couldn't move. She was effectively trapped against him.
"And what were you going to do?" Jack shrugged.
"Give her a sound talking to for upsetting you." Her eyes widened and he grinned, flashing teeth and those damned dimples. "Ye didn't' think I was goin' to waste one o'me best crewmen now did ye, love?" Isabelle jerked, trying to get away from him, suddenly angry. "Awe, ye want to stop now, do ye lass?" He released her, amusement obvious on his face. She backed away, almost tripping in the dress, but stepping around it, perhaps realizing exactly how vulnerable she was to him in her present state of undress.
"You-"
"Cad?" He supplied sweetly. Isabelle reacted before she realized it. The sound of the slap rang through the room like a gunshot and she froze. Her hand stung and Jack's head had been thrown to the side. He straightened, tossing his hair back from his face and the imprint of her palm stood out in angry red relief against the tanned skin. She stumbled back, suddenly aware of what she'd done, his eyes flashed fire and he reacted before she had time to run. His hands shot out, grabbing her by the upper arms, his fingers digging just above her elbows. His lips took hers, scorching, his mouth forcing hers open, his tongue plundering. She groaned low in her throat, fighting to get away but his mouth was insistent.
The kiss was hot, the heat warming her clear to her toes. Isabelle didn't know how to react to this, but as soon as she was ready to kiss back he released her, stepping back and breathing deep through his lungs, Jack shoved a hand through his hair and couldn't help but notice that her nipples had hardened through the chemise. "You deserved that, love," he answered, fingering his jaw, the marks left from her palm had faded a bit, though they were still a dark pink. Isabelle's body was reeling, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He shrugged, turning to the cabinet and removing a bottle and tumbler. Jack downed the contents of the glass quickly, pouring himself another before he had time to think. She'd responded better than he thought she would, he was forcing himself to think of other things, mundane things, things like gutting fish. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough on that he could get the image of her soft and pliant against him out of his head.
"Jack?" He sighed, so much for forgetting.
"What is it, then-" He broke off in surprise. Isabelle stood before him, her arms crossed over her breasts, but the chemise itself pooled in the crooks of her elbows. More of her breasts were bared to his sight than any bit of propriety allowed. She sighed, her heart still beat hard under her chest and she continued to try and get her breathing under control. She took a step toward him, then another, he found himself staring down at her before he was ready for it and his body responded the same way it had earlier. He cursed, taking another hasty sip of the liquor, this time from the bottle.
"Why did you stop?" Well that was hardly what he was expecting. She started up at him, completely serious. Jack searched for an answer, unable to find one that was very convincing.
"You don't know what you're asking, Isabelle." His voice was gruff, she narrowed her eyes, choosing not to acknowledge the absence of his trademark, dockside Cockney.
"I think I do," she countered, he took another drink from the bottle. "You want me, you think I don't see how you look at me? Why not just take it?" There was something in her voice, a cynicism that he hadn't expected.
"Take it? Just like that, you want me to take it?" She arched an eyebrow and let her arms drop. The chemise left her body like a breath. He groaned low in his throat.
"A man can only take so much temptation, Isabelle," he warned again. She didn't respond, just stood before him quietly, completely nude. Her breasts were tight, her nipples hard little buds against the pale, flawless skin. His eyes skimmed lower, taking in the shadow at the top of her thighs, the way her body trembled under his scrutiny. He shook his head as though to clear it and lifted the bottle, intent on taking another drink. Her fingers left her sides, fluttering above her breasts, much as his had earlier, gently caressing her own flesh like a lover.
The bottle crashed to the floor.
Isabelle jumped, her eyes leaving his to look at the liquid as it pooled around their feet. The shards of glass were dangerously close to her bare feet and Jack caught it. It was seconds before he took her in his arms, lifted her and stepped over the mess, his boots crunching broken glass into the hardwood floor. She was naked in his arms, her own arms went round his neck and he found her breasts pressed to his chest. He set her down in the center of the cabin bed, stepping back abruptly and forcing himself to turn around. She stared at the expanse of his back in surprise, drawing her knees under her Isabelle sat up, reaching out to him and edging toward his figure. "Jack… please," she wasn't sure what she was asking him to do, only alleviate the need that pressed around her like a vice.
He forced his voice to work, her fingers brushed the skin between his shoulder blades and he forced the shiver away. "Please what, Isabelle?" He rounded to stare down at her. Her breasts heaved softly and her eyes spoke of things he'd rather not think about. A glimmer of memory shined in the back of his mind at those eyes and he forced that away to the same place as the shiver. "What would you have me do?" She shrugged gently, her nipples hardening further, almost too painful pinpricks. He spread his arms wide, encompassing the room in the sweeping gesture. "I'm a pirate love, nothing more. The only reason I haven't taken complete advantage of that taunt little body is a whim. Do you understand that?" She blinked whatever she had expected she hadn't expected that. He plunged his hands into her hair, snapping the thong that held it in a low tail that trailed down her back and shoving his fingers through her scalp, causing it to fan around her shoulders in token modesty. The strands brushed her hypersensitive skin and she shivered. Was this new torture? "Do you have any idea how much I want to take you? I want to shove you down on that bed, spread your thighs and ride you raw, Isabelle," his voice was low, gruff, his lips next to her ear. She whimpered softly, her breasts brushing the cotton of his shirt again and he stopped, forcing himself to take hold of his senses.
His desire was there, a hard knot in his breeches and she could see it, sense it, he'd pulled her close, it was there, just touching her skin below her belly. She shivered. "Jack-"
"Are you scared yet, my beauty?" His voice lowered further, turning silky. He didn't know why he was doing this, but perhaps scaring her into fighting him would stop the desire that flowed through his blood like liquid fire. Maybe the self loathing that accompanied this threat of rape would stop him from seeing her in his mind's eye, legs wide, eyes wider, skin glowing under his body. "You should be. I'm a pirate, love. I take what I want and give nothing back. You think you can flaunt your…," he made a show of looking down her body and then stared back into her eyes, "charms… and not have me react?" She stared up at him, considering. He saw something spark in her eyes and her hands clenched in his shirt. "Well?"
"That's the problem, Jack," she answered softly, her fingers sliding downward suddenly, reaching the bulge in his breeches and her eyes flicking up to see if he was watching. He was. "I want you to." That was all it took.
His lips claimed hers again and she groaned low in her throat, reacting to the fervor in his kiss and creating more. Her fingers pulled at the cotton shirt and jerked it out of the breeches. He let her go, his lips still on hers as he slowly untied the sash at his waist. The satin fell to the floor. Her fingers found the buttons on the breeches and she faltered suddenly. There was no turning back from this moment and she knew it. Her breath caught in her throat and she gasped. He smiled down at her, suddenly gentle. His fingers caught hers and held them. "Do you want to stop?" He lifted them to his lips, kissing first her left hand then turning her right so that his lips brushed the soft underside of her wrist. Isabelle stared up at him in surprise, he'd really…? "If you don't want this, Isabelle, it won't happen." His voice was low, his eyes intense.
"But I thought-"
"I don't make it a habit to take unwilling women. Either you want to be here or you don't. If you don't… then I'll sleep elsewhere." Even though it'd likely kill him, he thought to himself. His desire was evident to them both, it was becoming an ache and if she wanted to stop then he would. But he needed to find a quiet corner to himself soon or he'd embarrass himself before he could leave the cabin.
The knowledge that he'd stop if she asked filled her belly like wine. She closed her eyes for a moment, dealing with this knew bit of information and made her decision. Turning her hands so that she was holding his she looked into his eyes. He stared down at her, finding that the more time he spent in her naked presence, the more he was surprised. She drew his hands downward, her fingers exerting the barest amount of pressure on his palms so that when she placed them over her breasts he found himself cupping the orbs. Jack's throat was dry.
"Don't stop," she answered him softly before she leaned up, capturing his lips with her own. Jack could do nothing but kiss her back, his fingers kneading her flesh before going up to hold her head against his own. Her fingers found the buttons of his breeches and deftly undid them. His body responded to her fingers and he gasped against her lips. She jerked back as though burned, "What? Did I… did I do something wrong?" Suddenly she looked as virginal as she had earlier. He remembered the seductress he'd held in his arms moments ago was as inexperienced as she was passionate. Jack chuckled low in his throat, his fingers caressing the column of her neck.
"No Belle," his lips brushed hers and she shivered. 'Belle', beautiful one. He'd called her beautiful. "No m'darlin'… but if you keep that up this'll be over before it begins." His eyes danced and he kissed her nose. "D'you want me to spend quickly, like a cabin boy?" She shook her head, taking her lower lip into her mouth and worrying it gently with her teeth. He gently disentangled her hands and stepped back, removing the boots and sliding the breeches downward. The shirt left his body as well and within seconds she was awarded the first unimpeded view of his body. Her breath caught in her throat and she let her eyes rake down his toned skin. Jack's muscles clenched, the need to throw her on the bed without the clothes between them was strong. She seemed to sense it, her fingers reached for him and she lay back, the feather mattress giving beneath her.
Jack rose over her, his hands brushing her cheeks as he slid over her body with an ease that only come with experience. His hand traveled down her body, gently urging her thighs apart, she complied, shifting with the feeling of a strange new wetness. She wanted to explore each new sensation, to shove him away and hold each tingling as long as possible. She could feel him against her, his erection against her inner thighs and she shivered hard. "Jack-"
Her eyes were wide and he could tell she was nervous. "It's alright my beauty. This'll hurt, it can't not. But if it's anything more than a pinch… tell me." He kissed her eye lids. "I will stop. I promise." She smiled, ignoring the tremors in her lower body. Her fingers were fisted underneath the pillow, but she brought her left hand out, grabbing the twin braids of his beard and pulling him gently down to her lips. After a kiss that left her gasping she stared up at him, trust shining so intense in her eyes that he almost pulled away and ran.
"It won't hurt." She answered softly. He smiled, rewarding her with the dimples in his cheeks. He eased himself between her thighs, forcing his body to go slow. She was wet for him already, which surprised him actually he thought she'd need a bit more encouragement. No shrinking violet, this girl. He began a tentative thrust, she bucked her hips to meet him and he was sheathed quicker than he expected. There was no resistance. She groaned low in her throat, she was tight around him and he let her have a moment to adjust to his presence inside her. Isabelle kept still for a moment, it hurt, but only in that he was forcing her to stretch. She sighed against his hair, the various beads heavy on her cheek.
Her fingers tightened on his back, her nails scratching lightly and she moved against him, rolling her hips to accommodate his size. Jack thrust once. She rose up against him, he thrust again. It started slow, her whimpers caught in her throat as his body forced itself inside hers. The possession was complete from beginning to end. She groaned low and he captured her lips, putting it out of his mind as he took her body. "Love me, Jack," she murmured softly, his ear burned with the phrase. "Love me, oh love me," he came with a rush like fire, freezing over her body. Her own orgasm gripped her and she was forced to scream, the only word in her thoughts his name. She collapsed back on the mattress, he rolled gently off of her and pulled her into his arms. She opened her mouth, her throat dry, "That was…" She couldn't finish. Jack stared down at the woman in his arms and arched an eyebrow.
"Why didn't you tell me, Isabelle? I would have handled things differently." She turned her head, staring over her shoulder at him in surprise.
"Tell you what?" The surprise on her face was so genuine that Jack couldn't force himself to finish, though he wanted to. He was burning with questions.
"This changes nothing," he cautioned instead. The words she'd whispered still had him reeling. 'Love me'? The only woman he'd ever love was the sea. And even that had it's limits. Isabelle sighed, closing her eyes as though it was what she'd expected.
"I know," she answered softly. "I just… spoke before I thought I suppose." She snuggled harder against him and Jack's arms tightened around her waist without thinking about it. "But could you hold me for a while? At least while I sleep?" He grinned.
"I suppose that could be arranged. Pleasant dreams love." She smiled softly and shivered as he pulled the coverlet over their bodies. There were a thousand questions flowing through Jack's head as she drifted off, a thousand different answers as well, but they could wait. He pulled the hair off her face and she smiled distantly in her sleep. Perhaps her dreams were pleasant, staring down the line of her body he could still see the bruises in the early evening light of the moon.
It only added to the questions.