Will was dead. He had died. Gone forever. And here she was, abandoned once again on an entirely different island with entirely the same man.
So how had she ended up out of the pouring rain, pressed against the bamboo wall of a makeshift tent with her skirts rucked around her hips and Jack between her legs, moaning into her mouth?
'Make me forget.'
That was it. It echoed somewhere in the back of her mind but all thoughts left said mind completely as she felt the rough fabric of his breeches run against her bare flesh.
He was her friend, but he had been his friend too, and, at the end of the day, just a man like any other.
He needed this. They needed this.
"I thought that this would be with Will…"
"Elizabeth," (not Lizzie), "Please. No."
Jack moaned against her lips and hitched her leg even higher on his thigh. His fingers desperately made their way towards the parted flesh that beckoned him so.
"It's all right, Jack. I need this. We need this. To feel nothing."
His fingers sunk into her, ready, eager, wanting…
"Nothing…is that what you feel…?"
She gasped as he explored her, her arms coming tightly around his shoulders.
"No…make me….make me feel something."
He obliged, freeing himself from his confines and plunging into her untouched, yearning body. A tear slowly dropped down her face, rolling salt in its wake.
He saw the tear then; saw it tumble down her porcelain cheek.
"Lizzie…have I hurt you?"
She turned her head away as the shock and relief of being filled entered her very core.
"No. I'm crying because…I feel…something…"
