Elizabeth hid her face into Jack's neck, recalling the rush she felt the day Jack was nearly hung. The overwhelming feeling that she must leave her way of life and follow him should have made her desire for him evident from the start. She tore off her hat and rushed to a ledge with a less threatening distance to the water. Gasps erupted from the crowd when she hastily removed her dress down to her slip and dove in after Jack. Then Will followed soon after, although she never asked for following.
On the Pearl, under Jack's command as Captain, then came the shared glances and harmless teasing from both sides. It was just their way, instinctive and playful. She thought nothing more of the exchanges than entertaining asides to pass the time in Will's absence. But once the cross-matching happened, Elizabeth was reminded of what propelled her into a life of piracy in the first place—the unshakable feeling she should not let Jack weasel his way out of her life as quickly as he weaseled his way in.
"Pray tell, what makes you say that we're m—" Jack's mouth worked around the word.
Elizabeth offered Jack an encouraging smile. "Matched."
"That," he muttered, seeming relieved she hadn't made him say it. "Beyond the throes of passion."
Elizabeth looked thoughtful, toying with Jack's hair jewelry for a moment before answering, her words falling into the next from the strong drink clouding her mind.
"It's you, Jack, who saved me from the sea, who is so unlike the constraints of my former life, who can challenge me in the ways I need challenging. I knew all of this before but then you,"—Elizabeth breathed in a wavering breath—"touched me." Elizabeth felt a flash of heat underneath her skin as she remembered how close she felt to Jack the night of the cross-matching and the following morning. "Sorry. You pointedly said not to mention such things as explanation."
Such things. Elizabeth paused, remembering an exchange from the night of the cross-matching.
"I guess I shouldn't say that you're irresistibly charming, a man of greater intellect than he would ever let on, and the man who taught me how to free myself, to truly live," she replied to his string of compliments.
Jack called her striking, strong, and, what was it? Yes, "maddeningly intoxicating." That was the perfect way to describe their attraction, she thought. "Maddeningly intoxicating." The way Jack came right out with it, shared his admiration in bold declarations made her feel more wanted than she could ever imagine.
"Yes," Jack replied that night of warmth and wonder. "Best not say such things."
Elizabeth met Jack's eyes and it seemed he was finishing playing out his own recollection of that night. Jack cleared his throat, returned to the present moment.
"Yes, well, 'such things' were rather," he trailed off, "noteworthy, I'll have you know. So, I'll allow it."
"Oh? How so? Out of your 'many conquests?'" Elizabeth teased, resting a hand at the back of his neck.
"For one thing, when you—" Jack's hand's fluttered at Elizabeth's waist and her face grew hot when she remembered how it felt above him. "Still trying to figure that out," Jack landed on instead of answering with something crass, his gaze falling to her lips.
"Well, I always find retracing my steps usually helps me find an answer," Elizabeth said, smoothing her other hand up Jack's arm and around his neck. "Please," Elizabeth whispered, "let me have you again," she begged into his ear, the alcohol still thrumming through her, drowning her pride. "We're matched, Jack. I felt it. I know you did too. Help us remember."
Jack's eyes lingered on Elizabeth's mouth for a while, weighing, until he ultimately framed her face with his hands and met her lips with his own. She melted against him in an instant, a week's worth of longing revealed by the both of them.
Jack reclaimed his hat from Elizabeth's head to place it on one of the posts on the bedframe. Next to reclaim was Elizabeth herself. She screamed then laughed when he wrapped her up around the middle to mouth at her neck before guiding her onto the mattress. He pulled off one of her boots then the next, and Elizabeth hid her smile behind the back of her hand when Jack kissed at her calf, his eyes pointedly never leaving hers with a knowing glint swimming in them. He knew all he did to her, how easy he could excite her, the right look alone sending heat blossoming underneath her skin.
Arrogant pirate, Elizabeth thought, realizing what once registered as disdain now registered as unbearable longing.
"A relentless criminal of depravity you are, Jack."
"Takes one to know one."
Jack nipped at Elizabeth's chin before kissing his way down her chest. Nimble fingers worked at her shirt, then trousers, skillful enough to have her out of both before she could even breathe his name. Elizabeth threaded a hand into Jack's hair, shuddering from finally feeling him in ways she could only imagine the past week.
Elizabeth felt her hips jut forward at the feeling of Jack's mouth. The slope of his nose brushed against her thigh, a quiet laugh tickling her skin at her reaction. Jack parted her legs further and his tongue returned, rediscovering all of the parts of her that could make her breathless. Elizabeth arched into him, needing more as all of her being was attentive on the heat pooling between her legs, and Jack seemed to share the same attentiveness. He knew exactly how to push her just far enough, Elizabeth realized. If his actions were music, the notes would have rushed all close together by now, nearly on top of one another, nearly too much, the bow of violins frantic and hurried—only to draw back in the next instant. Elizabeth felt like she couldn't breathe from the pleasure he caused. From mouth and fingers alone, she thought, disbelieving. Jack pushed her and pushed her, and now was time for the pull.
As she watched him undress, Elizabeth had to remind herself she wasn't dreaming, her mind hazy from the drink. Her fingers picked up where his left off and she swallowed down a sigh at the sight of him—all tanned skin and tattoos. He was gorgeous.
"More importantly, Swann, I make a rather good cup of tea too," Jack joked in Elizabeth's ear above her. It was only then, somewhat mortified, Elizabeth realized she said as much aloud.
"I didn't imagine it like this," she admitted, talking before thinking once again. "I'm,"—Elizabeth pushed hair from her eyes, a laugh bubbling from her throat to hide her embarrassment—"I'm acting a bit of a mess. I'm sorry."
Jack shook his head, wearing a tender look of doubtfulness at the declaration. "Don't be. You're perfect, Swann." Elizabeth smiled at him, starry-eyed. "Well, a touch needy, but—"
She rolled her eyes at Jack then kissed away his words, fighting off a smile when she felt him fight off one of his own. She opened her mouth in a shuddering silent exhale, gripping the bed frame when he took her by waist and smoothed his hard cock over her entrance, causing pleasure to lick down her spine like wildfire. Elizabeth was more than ready to have him in as many ways as she possibly could when a knock at the door jarred them both.
"Jack!" was shouted through the door followed by another pounding knock.
At the sound of Will's voice, Jack and Elizabeth shoved at each other in a rush of limbs to gather their clothes, pulling sour faces when they realized they ended up with an assortment, pieces from the other mixed in with their own. Elizabeth found Jack's pants in the bundle in her stepped into his trousers while she hid in the wardrobe in the corner of the room.
Jack opened the door to the backroom slightly, putting upon a nonchalant expression. "William, didn't anyone ever teach you it's grounds for punishment to interrupt your Captain during matters of merriment and-or buggery? In this case, both?"
"It's for good reason. Elizabeth is missing," Will said, his wide eyes helpless and searching. "Have you seen her?"
Jack leaned against the doorframe then blinked pointedly. "Seen every inch of her, my boy, or have you forgotten the cross-matching?"
"I mean around the tavern," Will corrected flatly. "I looked everywhere. I can't find her."
"One moment."
Jack shut the door to throw his voice in mimicry of a woman's laugh followed by a "Coming, Darling," in his own natural register. He cleared his throat then opened the door, wearing a put-upon grave expression.
"You caught me with my hands full on the occasion when I favor such—full of a woman—so I'm afraid I can't help you search for your bonnie lass." Jack fished around in his pocket for coins then thrusted them into Will's hand. "A few rounds on me. She'll turn up. You know Lizzie, she's different than most of the crew. Needs time alone to think"—he leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially—"as she has thoughts worth thinking."
Will smiled, bright and boyish. "You're right, Jack."
"Aren't I always?"
At the sound of the door shutting, Elizabeth peered over the edge of the wardrobe door, stepping out fully when she was sure Will was gone.
"That was close," Jack muttered.
"I ought to go to him. He's worried about me, and he might suspect," words escaped Elizabeth for a moment, her mind still clouded by the heady alcohol. Words really escaped her when Jack's hands slipped over her own, pushing the sheet aside.
Jack stepped in close, his mouth a whisper away from her ear. "He might suspect what? That I have his girl naked and blushing before me?"
She squared her shoulders and schooled her dreamy expression. She may be drunk but she still knew how to play.
"I'm not blushing," Elizabeth countered, her voice clipped.
Jack gave her the kind of look that instantly made her relent the icy façade and kissed her, his tongue coaxing her mouth open as he thumbed over her breasts. Jack bit down on her lower lip and she shuddered and leaned into his touch. Elizabeth chased after Jack's mouth when he ended the kiss, her heavily lidded eyes regretfully watching him pull his shirt on.
"You were saying, Swann?" Jack taunted, all dark eyes and knowing smile.
Elizabeth drew the sheet in on herself once more, overwhelmed by the need for a good rest, the drunkenness finally winding her body down. Even so, she was still drawn to him, stepping forward.
"I can't have you?"
She was sure she would hate how desperate she allowed herself to sound in front of Jack in the morning. Should she remember any of this in the morning, her thoughts corrected.
"Not now. Not here."
Jack helped Elizabeth into her clothes although she fought him nearly every step of the way, mumbling under her breath about him always teasing her.
"Something tells me knowing William searching every inch of this joint for you and hearing the jeering from a room full of down-right filthy men won't evoke quite the same response as our first tryst."
"None of that matters," Elizabeth insisted as Jack tucked her in. "Just want you, all of you."
"Alright. How do we make that a reality once we're back on board then, hmm?" he asked, playing a hand through her hair.
Elizabeth looked thoughtful for a moment then remembered the dream that made her late that morning. She gave Jack a distant, winsome smile as she formulated an idea.
"The book."
"A book?" Jack narrowed his eyes. "Afraid I don't follow, Lizzie."
"Your book. Your book of filth," Elizabeth explained, earning a short laugh. "We can leave it where we want to meet with a marked passage to recreate."
"That book holds an array of possibilities. Matters a," Jack paused, "novice might not be up to."
"A novice, perhaps, but one that is eager to learn," Elizabeth said into Jack's ear, kissing at his neck and smiling into his skin when his voice dropped low in a somewhat uneasy yet pleased sound. "Starting tomorrow?"
Jack considered the arrangement then nodded. "I'll come get you tomorrow from your cabin. Steal you away," he whispered then pressed a kiss to Elizabeth's forehead.
Elizabeth felt warmth spread through her chest much like the effects of alcohol, only better. She straightened up when she thought Jack was standing to leave.
"Won't you stay? Please, Jack."
He raised the blanket to lay next to her and Elizabeth nuzzled into Jack's chest, a barely-there smile playing on her lips when she felt him begin to pet her hair.
"Wouldn't dream of leaving you alone like this, Darling."
She nestled even closer into his chest, sighed, and imagined it was the morning after the cross-matching, enveloped in sunlight instead of darkness.
.
Elizabeth stood before the Black Pearl, the thrill of boarding again pulsing through her veins—as well as fresh alcohol. Jack gave her hair of the dog to help with her splitting headache then helped her sneak out of the tavern window just in case any crew members were lingering about.
She felt a hand play through her hair and turned into the touch, smiling. Elizabeth only felt somewhat guilty when she was met with the sight of Will instead of Jack.
"There you are. You had me worried."
Will kissed Elizabeth, his hands protective, pulling her in close. She gasped against his lips, her hands instinctively drawing up to his chest, and her brow furrowed when she realized she nearly pushed him away. She started at a command from their Captain, and both herself and Will turned towards Jack as he sauntered towards the entirety of the crew.
"Alright, back to work, you scurvy scum," Jack's voice rang out, the instruction direct yet holding an endearing quality.
Jack shared a choreographed kind of handshake with Gibbs then inspected charts alongside him, completely disregarding Elizabeth. Jack almost had even herself convinced that he hadn't woken her up with a light shake, chaste kiss, and saw her out of the tavern a handful of moments ago. Elizabeth disregarded him in the same manner, boarding the Pearl hand-in-hand with Will, then went straight into the morning duties.
In the evening, in her room with Will, Elizabeth shared false stories about time spent alone in a cavern. She even showed him a handful of seashells she collected so he could imagine her dreamy and wistful beside the beach instead of her reality of stumbling drunkenly into a shoddy room for a clandestine meeting with their Captain.
One thing led to another then Will was above her, kissing at her neck and declaring how much he missed her as if they spent days apart instead of mere hours. Just as he made to slip his hand past her waistband, Elizabeth let out a noise of protest.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, only," Elizabeth paused, her mind racing. "I'm bleeding," she landed on.
"Oh," Will answered, effectively stopped.
Elizabeth swallowed down a sigh. She wasn't ready to share the truth with Will. Not yet.
.
In the middle of the night, Will nestled in close to her side, Elizabeth toyed at the tie at the front of her nightdress and stared at the wooden slats above her, remembering counting them the last time she made love with Will. She tried to count them to pass the time but there wasn't enough moonlight shining in from the porthole to see clearly. The monkey, still in Will's care since the cross-matching, stirred in its cage stirred in the corner, restless as her thoughts.
A barely-there whistle like the sound of wind on the other side of the door made Elizabeth inhale deeply. Quiet as she could, she left Will's side and peeked the door open. Jack was walking, his hands clasped behind his back. She waited until he rounded the corner out of sight to avoid any crew members seeing them together and only then started to follow him to his cabin.
Jack opened the door swiftly and welcomed her in, placing a cup and saucer in her hands. She raised her eyebrows at him over the teacup, committing to his joke from earlier.
"Tucking me in, freshly brewed tea," Elizabeth trailed off, smiling somewhat around the rim of the cup as Jack faced her. "Do you hope to bed me again or become my governess?"
"Don't act like you don't love it, Swann, your penchant for sensitive men and all." Jack met Elizabeth's eyes in a weighted look. "Speaking of, did you mean what you said the night of the cross-matching? About you never wanting to give yourself to another man again?"
She nodded. "I wouldn't lie about that."
Jack straightened his shirtfront and tried to not look too pleased. "It's of no interest to me but did you make well on that confession?"
She noticed Jack's expression countered his words, against his intent she was sure. It was seemingly of every interest to him.
"So far."
The corners of Jack's mouth nearly rose in a smile but he schooled his expression.
"What of your dear William then? You make a cuckold of him?"
She imagined making Will a cuckold as Jack said, imagined herself on her hands and knees, flushed and breathless as Jack guided her by the waist with Will watching all the while, absentmindedly working his own interest.
"No. I'm unsure what to make of Will at all anymore, actually."
"By my account?"
Elizabeth studied Jack's eyes intently, finding that barely detectable emotion which was so rare to catch from the man before her—the smallest glimmer of guilt.
"Need I remind you why we approached you in the first place, Jack?"
"Need I remind you it was intended to be a passing arrangement?"
"A bit late for that, isn't it, considering what nearly happened last night?"
"Nearly. Come to your senses—He's sensible for you, Swann."
"'Sensible.' Yes, what every woman dreams of."
"Should be. For their own good."
"Do not tell me what I should and should not want!"
"You clearly need telling, and a Captain wants what is best for his crew."
"Would you let yourself simply be a man for a moment instead of a Captain?" Elizabeth asked, exasperated, her hands shaking around the saucer. "Would you let yourself have this?"
Jack closed the distance between them, his steps filling the silence, the aftermath of the cross-fire. He circled the rim of the teacup in Elizabeth's hands with two fingers and she swallowed down the image of those very fingers in her mouth in an entirely different kind of heated discussion.
"I can't, Swann," Jack answered, his voice clipped and level, annunciating every consonant. "If I did, I would have already had you again and again in an assortment of ways, ways you wouldn't even imagine, you wouldn't even dream possible for a man to have a woman." Jack took the tea from Elizabeth, raising his eyebrows at her as she flushed, effectively silenced for a moment, her imagination taking over. "Now, what truly did in you and the whelp if not our tryst?" Jack asked, taking a drink nonchalantly as if he didn't just stir an overwhelming sensual tension into the air.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Will views me as a certain part and, admittedly, I play it. I meant to leave that girl on land in place of the woman I became on the sea. I'm through playing, pretending to be something I'm not anymore."
Will saw her as an idealized version of herself put on a pedestal, the true depths of her untouchable. Whereas, under Jack's gaze and touch, Elizabeth felt quite common. There was something thrilling and grounding, so human about the way Jack made her feel—which was exactly why she wasn't keen on giving up on him.
"Well, I accept the thorn along with the rose, love, know that. In fact, I welcome it."
Jack and Elizabeth exchanged fleeting smiles.
"Now that my conscious is effectively swept clean,"—Jack held up a finger—"I have something for you, Swann." He drew a satchel from behind a trunk. "If you close your eyes and be good," he emphasized the last word with a raise of his eyebrows.
"And if I don't?" she challenged. "What happened to accepting the thorn, Sparrow?"
"Well, something tells me you don't want to miss out on a gift so," he paused, before enigmatically smiling, "particular."
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and closed her eyes, exhaling in surprise when she felt Jack slink in close. She shuddered, her hand instantly grasping at the hard pressure against her hip. She ran her thumb absentmindedly along the glass, shaped like a phallus, and bit down on her lip.
"Why," Elizabeth swallowed down the question, shaking her head and meeting Jack's gaze. "I thought we would start tonight. I thought I could be with you as we were for the cross-matching. Tonight," she said, quieter, smoothing her hands up Jack's shoulders.
"All I said was I would come get you from your cabin," he reminded. "You forget, Lizzie, you were late on board yesterday." He returned Elizabeth's hands to her sides and the glass to the satchel.
Jack placed the bag around Elizabeth's form, pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then showed her to the door. She made an unintelligible sound when he pulled her in close, his hand smoothing at the small of her back then lower.
"There. Your punishment," he whispered, the "t" crisp on the air.
Before the door of her own cabin, Elizabeth shut her eyes and leaned back, pulling the satchel close to her chest. More teasing. Jack was trying to get her wound tight. She was almost okay with it all, as long as he eventually made well on the unwinding.
That night Elizabeth was all alone in her cabin as Will was working the night rotation above her. She slipped the glass from the satchel, the coolness in her hand foreign but inviting. She laid back, focused on the rocking of the ship and began working her hand, thinking back to the custom sword Jack won her over with for the cross-matching and now, something so different yet also certainly custom, just his size.
She drew her hand down the front of her nightgown, her hips drawing forward instinctively as they had when she urged Jack on in the tavern. Elizabeth nearly heard his laugh flitting across the air like a bird's wings. She wished he would come into her cabin at that very instant and take her. Elizabeth sighed, broken and helpless at the feeling of fullness from the glass phallus. She was almost certain Jack was on deck at that very moment, a hidden smile in the corner of his mouth, just knowing and knowing well how deeply she ached for him again.
.
Elizabeth climbed the stairs to start her duties, crossing paths with Will.
"Good Morning."
"Is it? It's so dreary out," Elizabeth explained when Will gave her a questioning look. "It's set to storm soon, surely. We can only hope the seas favor us."
Will pulled Elizabeth in close his side, pressing a kiss into her hair and smoothing his hand in circles along the small of her back. Elizabeth peered over Will's shoulder, noticing Jack glancing their way out of the corner of his eye. Her face burned, remembering his brief touch the night before as she stepped back, offering Will a small smile.
It felt as normal a morning as any, although indeed a rainy one. That is, until the weather worsened. It took every crew member tending to the lines and sails to keep the Pearl sailing as steadily as possible. Matters only worsened when a ship was seemingly following the Pearl through the storm. Not any ship, but the Royal Navy on their trails once again. The crew buzzed as Jack pulled a face, spotting Norrington through his telescope.
"Care to call off your former betrothed, love? Use the goods for good? Go on, a flash of ankle should be enough to stave off the likes of him."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes but rested a hand at Will's arm when he shifted, insulted on her behalf by the comment. Jack began calling out orders, demanding movement, everyone to their stations.
"A hurricane is brewing ahead, Jack, I feel it," Gibbs called out over a crack of thunder.
"Aye, but no choice but through it with the Dauntless on our tails."
"Through it?" Will looked over his shoulder at Jack. "We can't navigate around?"
"Too late for that," Jack said from the helm just as the ship lurched from unsteady seas.
"We could all die at your hand, from your recklessness!"
"Will," Elizabeth interjected, "some of the best plans are reckless."
"We go around," he insisted.
"You forget your place, Turner," Jack said, gritting his teeth at the vessel's most violent rocking of the day before instructing Will back to his post.
The crew on the Dauntless had to focus on staying afloat as much as the crew on the Pearl. Elizabeth stole glances behind her at the ship but also at her Captain, marveling at his calmness in the madness, his unbothered nature, his courage. The Pearl sailed through the storm, just managing safety before the worst of the hurricane. They lost The Dauntless, and it was unclear if the ship went down or not. Elizabeth felt a tightness in her chest, a silent hope Norrington was spared. She felt a different kind of tightness in her chest entirely from the fire in Jack's eyes and his unwavering grip on the wheel. She saw that expression before—thrilled, fulfilled, yet still wanting. Elizabeth couldn't believe at all possible times, following a life-threatening storm, her mind was transfixed on having Jack again that night. Or, rather, there seemed to be no better time, her thoughts amended, as time was never promised.
.
Once matters calmed some, the Pearl sailing steady and the crew at ease, Elizabeth snuck down to Jack's cabin. His book was hidden behind a bench outside his cabin door. She skimmed through the marked passage, color rushing to her face as she read on. Eventually, Jack swung open his door and circled his finger, wordlessly instructing her to turn around. Elizabeth laughed, high and unsuspecting—although she should have expected such, given the passage—when Jack slipped a blindfold over her eyes and pulled her into his room.
"How was it? Your punishment?" Jack asked into her ear, and Elizabeth rested her hands atop Jack's arms which were snaked around her middle.
"There could be worse punishments."
Jack withdrew his hands. "Oh? Should we extend it?"
Elizabeth turned and shook her head, stepping forward and holding her arms stretched outwards. She felt around for Jack and sighed when he relented and pulled her forward. Elizabeth rested her head against his chest, smelling the frankincense at his neck which was so like him—deep and strong one moment then warm and sweet the next.
"I didn't think I could want you more," Elizabeth admitted as Jack pet at her hair, "then you led us through the storm. You were rather brave."
"I ought to be, don't I?"
"You're Captain, sure, but that doesn't make you any less human."
"The sea, she has a way of giving us matters we initially think we can't handle but there's no choice but to accept your fate because, well, now you're in it. You go through it."
She wished she meet his soulful eyes with her own, silently let him know she understood.
"For a moment there I wasn't sure if we would make it, if I would ever feel you again," she trailed off.
Elizabeth leaned away some when Jack didn't reply, not knowing how thoughtfully he was studying her, thinking on how best to calm her, how best to please her, while also observing her fear of the event like a forgotten memory. She wondered if he feared anything anymore.
Well, she imagined there was at least one fear he was still finding the courage to face, standing before him. Unless she prided herself in delusion.
"I clearly want this more than you." Elizabeth laughed, it empty, then smoothed her hands over Jack's shirt collar. "Here I am needing you like air and you're fine."
Jack framed her face then claimed her lips in a gentle, languid kiss. He whispered in her ear, "You're joking me, Swann. Denying you, three times now, was like denying myself the world."
"Is that what it feels like for you?" Elizabeth asked, realizing she never felt comfortable enough with Will to ask, what it might feel like, being the man.
"Not always. But with you? Like seeing the world for the first time."
Elizabeth felt warmth spread from her chest up her neck, and she was sure a blush was coloring the apples of her cheeks. Elizabeth felt the back of Jack's hand smooth across the side of her face then his thumb brush over her mouth, a careful pressure against her lips parting them slightly.
"Then why deny me?"
Jack guided Elizabeth by the waist to the edge of his bed and she sighed at the feeling of his hands untucking her shirt then unbuttoning it.
"I would be lying if I said I didn't like seeing you dance, Swann. Seeing you squirm," he murmured just as he thumbed over her nipples, laughing softly when a broken exhale fell from her lips. "Not simply for the fun of it. Although, that's rather nice too." He sucked a rose tip into his mouth, circling, teasing, and biting, and Elizabeth arched into Jack, already breathless from that alone.
"Then why?"
There was a pause and Elizabeth imagined Jack shrugged in the silence.
"A man likes to know he's not a novelty."
"Never," Elizabeth replied almost immediately. "I know in the tavern I only had half of my wits about me—"
"A fourth, more like it," Jack teased.
"A fourth then," she laughed. "But I meant what I said," she assured, her words slow and weighted, referring to her discussing matching.
Jack was quiet and ultimately thought better of words, kissing Elizabeth open-mouthed, causing her to radiate endless want. It was as if they picked up right where they left off in the tavern but even better, their senses heightened from the rush of the storm beforehand.
Jack skillfully shelled off the rest of her clothes then was over her, his hands smoothing down her form, worshipping every inch almost painstakingly slowly—the rose tips of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the tops of her thighs. He showered her with proper attention then trailed kisses down her stomach, his beard tickling her skin. Elizabeth smiled at the feeling, her sense of touch heightened with the blindfold still on.
When she felt the heat of Jack's body radiating above her leave, Elizabeth sat upright and made to push back the blindfold but Jack interrupted the action.
"Oi. No peeking. Captain's orders."
She kicked her legs absentmindedly, stilling when Jack grasped her right calf. She felt the tickle of a chain around her ankle, then a clasp. Then a second jewelry chain stacked atop. Then another. Jack played his fingertips along the anklets for a moment then he pressed a kiss to the inside of Elizabeth's ankle before more kisses trailed up her leg. She leaned back again, the anticipation of waiting without seeing him further testing her patience in the best of ways.
She could imagine Jack's eyes darkening before he seemingly tried to taste her every essence. Elizabeth rocked forward, trembling at the welcomed repetition of the glide of his tongue. His fingers played inside, feeling how much she wanted him as his tongue trailed along her clit, circling and teasing.
Elizabeth bit down on her lip, every inch of her body blushing and blooming and thrumming for Jack. She understood what he meant by it feeling like seeing the world for the first time.
Then Elizabeth felt Jack hovering over her once again. She drew him in closer, pressing her forehead to his.
"Have your way with me properly, Jack," she whispered.
"There's nothing proper about what I want to do to you, Lizzie," Jack murmured in her ear. "Be clear with me. What do you want?"
Elizabeth weighed her words but, enveloped in darkness, felt a safeness in honesty.
"For you to not be afraid of this."
"What?"
"Please don't be afraid. Know that I want this. You. I want you, Jack," she said, quiet yet certain. "And," she took a shallow breath, "I want you to fuck me senseless. Can you manage that?"
His hands turned her then smoothed down her back like a waterfall that couldn't fall soon enough. Jack grabbed Elizabeth by the waist, eliciting a soft moan when she felt him inside. She uttered a seamlessly endless chain of praises when she felt his heat inside again and again, and Elizabeth pressed back against him, uttering an array of words: "more," "harder," and, above all else, spoke power into his name. Jack's grip was sure to would leave marks on her hips again—his grip as tight as it was on the wheel earlier—and she reveled in the thought of more bruises, marked by his guidance onto his cock—steady, skilled, and sure.
Jack asked to "see that gorgeous mouth" then grabbed her by the chin, kissing her messily. He eased Elizabeth onto her back with a loose hand at her throat followed a playful, open bite at her jaw. Elizabeth arched up into Jack to feel his skin as he kissed at her neck, marking her further.
Jack hooked her legs over his shoulders and she moaned at the feeling of sudden fullness again. Elizabeth crossed her ankles, smoothing her left foot along the anklets for a moment when Jack was still. She dug her ankles into his back and the breath was stolen from her chest when Jack rocked into her, making good on her request. Elizabeth was sure to feel this moment for days. Just as she wanted.
Jack's breath caught at the back of his throat followed by a barely there, "Lizzie."
"Yes," Elizabeth gasped, strikingly hot pleasure taking over her body entirely.
"Say it, Darling."
And although her mind seemed far off, properly blissed-out and relaxed, Elizabeth knew instantly what Jack wanted to hear.
"We're matched, Jack," she whispered, more an exhale than a sentence.
Elizabeth sighed brokenly, feeling Jack pin her arms above her head as he met her mouth with unabashed desire and she returned the kiss just as fervently.
Elizabeth realized if there truly was a way to sail over the edge of the map of the world, this must be what it would feel like—initially forbidden, adventurous, and a secret one knew about all along but never dreamed possible.
After falling over the edge of ecstasy, Jack removed Elizabeth's blindfold and her eyes hungrily drank him in. She felt a shared realization between the two of them in that moment: This wasn't a cross-matching. They could have each other again and again. They could get swept into a rushed, climbing desire until they reached release then climb to that point together again and again and again.
"Well," Elizabeth said, breathless, "shall we have another go at it?" she asked without an ounce of hesitation.
Jack laughed, a deep, hearty one from his whole chest that made warmth bloom in her own from endearment, then agreed. They went on like this, her asking and him agreeing. She even blindfolded him at one point, enamored by the way he allowed it, gave himself over to her, relenting control after such a day full of exercising it. She liked discovering what made Jack exhale sharply or groan out her name or roughly pull at her hair. She liked being the one to take him to that place, to watch him just barely tip over the edge then beautifully shatter. She liked seeing Jack, not as Captain for a moment, but simply as a man. Just a man.
Once again, she found herself never wanting the night to end. Elizabeth was convinced no other man could desire her so much—have her in so many ways in a single night, make her come so hard, so fast. She told Jack as much between short, breathless kisses.
Blissfully sore and exhausted, the two shared an unwavering, lidded gaze after Jack pulled her onto his chest. He was the first to break the silence, laughing and throwing an arm over his eyes.
"You're trying to kill me, Swann," Jack spoke through the tail end of his laugher.
"I'm trying to kill you, Sparrow," Elizabeth agreed, joking.
"I'm losing all of my senses over you, you know that?" he muttered. "What's left of them," Jack amended, pulling a face, making her smile. "You're not supposed to do that. No woman should make me"—he took a moment to search for the proper words—"want her so."
"Because you're married to the sea?"
"Because I'm married to the sea."
Elizabeth leaned forward to whisper, smiling, "Then I guess that makes me your mistress."
Elizabeth traced her fingertips over Jack's collarbone, resting the side of her face on his chest. She smoothed her index finger down his arm, tracing the swirling designs of his tattoo.
"I read about you, you know," she shared, her voice a distant whisper. Elizabeth smiled, watching Jack's brow furrow.
"What?"
"In a journal. Long ago. I read about you. Your name colored the pages. I was just learning about,"—she flushed—"this. I read about all the ways you could make a woman feel wanted." She wondered if she shared too much but pushed on.
Elizabeth studied Jack more intently than ever, it seemed, now that he could, and his eyes were far off in thought, searching for words in a comfortable quiet.
"What about me makes you feel wanted, Swann?"
Elizabeth took her own pause to think her answer over, hearing his true question: "Why me?"
"You're different."
"Not good enough." Jack turned his head to smile softly at Elizabeth. "I want your words." He frowned at his instruction, command-like as a Captain instead of simply a man. "Please," he added.
"Well, you make me feel—have always made me feel," Elizabeth trailed off, meeting Jack's eyes. She focused on the feeling of his hand smoothing along her hair but ultimately felt flush and couldn't go through with her explanation. Jack denied her once over a bold near-confession. She didn't want to lose him again. "I don't know what."
Jack drew Elizabeth's chin up. "Swann."
"I lost the word. It was right on the tip of my tongue."
"Well," Jack spoke through a smile, "care if I help you find it?"
He kissed her, his tongue coaxing her mouth open, and Elizabeth laughed when they parted, screaming out his name high and girlish when he turned them.
"When you say it, it's as if you were the only women ever meant to," Jack said, brushing the back of his hand against Elizabeth's cheek.
"What?"
"My name."
Elizabeth studied Jack for a moment, her eyes dancing, trying to gage if he was serious or testing her, teasing her with sentimental words only to take it back the next moment. When she was met with genuine sincerity resting in his dark eyes, Elizabeth framed the side of Jack's face with one hand, feeling weightless in that moment.
"And you mine."