The Gift

Chapter 11: Aria

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

Finally-- SMUT warning!!

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Nothing became of the German nor had there been any further sign of Barbossa as the week progressed. Although, Admiral Norrington was finding no great success in his current military ventures (no sign of pirates or papist spies ), his personal affairs were as bright as the Christmas star.

He had visited Lucy three times this week which only intensified his feelings and his confidence in their match. They had become fast friends and although she would not give him a decoration of love, he easily accepted her kind words and her warm fingers as they often brushed against his in flirtation and affection.

Tonight's party at the Gravely's plantation home had been another great success for the couple and all of Port Royal seemed eager to celebrate in the young Admiral's happy engagement to the master violinist's daughter. Although Norrington's father had been gentry (although of a lesser standing), Sir Issac Norrington of Blackwater, Norrington was a seventh son and a made man thanks to his courageous and successful naval career. Therefore, the matriarchs of Port Royal deemed Lucy lucky for marrying up and Norrington equally as lucky for marrying beauty and grace. Already, people were declaring the Norrington/ Giuliano affair 'a love match'.

Finally, after several hours of bowing, dancing, polite conversation and a few crying daughters (many young ladies had hung their hearts out for James although he was usually to thick to notice); Lucy and James entered his private carriage alone.

A broad smile spread across his face, shinning in his eyes, "I believe they like you!"

"They already liked me!" Lucy balked, linking hands with the admiral. "What they liked is having their 'darling Norrington' finally nearing the altar!"

"There were a lot of 'darlings' tonight, weren't there? I must confess, I do believe you've made me much more popular with the ladies." He smirked playfully.

"You may be popular with the ladies all you like, James." Lucy rebuked, coolly removing his tricorn. "But only for another month and then..." She smiled like a cat in cream.

"And then?" He leaned closely and they kissed.

Simultaneously, a bump in the road propelled Lucy forward with an, "Oh!" And she bounced in Norrington's lap.

"Wasn't that fortuitous?" His voice seared with need as his arms wrapped around her, lips pressing against her exposed neck.

"Oh James!" Lucy exclaimed, as an exotic heat claimed her; a thunder bolt of electricity shot from his lips, down her neck to her womanly parts which throbbed with an unknown need. She didn't completely understand the magic of James' kisses or the response of her own body, but she had a feeling she would greatly enjoy the exploration.

"Lucy," he moaned, "If you only understood what you do to me."

Swiveling in his lap, her hands lifted to his chin and she lead him forward into temptation with a deep, muscular kiss. He easily played Adam to her Eve, enjoying the loss of control to her strong will.

"We are a fiancéed, James. Show me something," her dark eyes search his with a penetrating desire for knowledge, "Show me something that lovers do."

James couldn't move, but his mind raced with possibilities. Suddenly, they hit another bump and Lucy bounced off his lap to land beside him on the carriage bench. Her hands clinched tightly to his lapels, his fingers wrapped around her upper arms.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes," she said, then moving her hand down his jacket to rest against his thigh, her eyes taking in the knot beneath his breeches, she asked, "Are you?" It was a question with two possible answers.

Again, he was nearly speechless and her hand traveled in circular undulations against his buff trousers. His eyes, looking stunned, moved from her hand back to her eyes.

"Is this wrong?" She asked tentatively, her hand moving but an inch from his manhood.

"I don't know." He replied. Was she asking physically or morally?

She laughed a little bit, then leaning forward, nuzzling his neck with kisses. "I only know what girls' whisper about behind bedroom doors." Then nibbling up his hot, pulsing neck, she whispered in his ear, "Show me what to do."

His fingers were cold and his chest pounded quickly as he boldly moved her small hand from his thigh to his hard desire fearing her rejection and disgust. With a tentative hand atop hers, he guided her in a few strokes along his aching body and was unable to contain a responsive moan.

Her fingertips tighten against the ridge of britches and she stroked him independently as his other hand cradled about her shoulders, messaging the warm, naked skin of her shoulders.

"I don't wish to trouble you, Lucy." He finally forced himself to speak.

"You don't." Her breath was hot against his ear, "Do I please you James?"

He lifted her chin to look into the eyes of a siren, his voice a rough. "You please me beyond my dreams."

With his approval, she continued her stroking with more eagerness and his control began to shatter, taking her into both his hands, he kissed her deeply and begged with shame, "Please...take me in your hands, love."

Lucy was deeply enjoying the new found power of being called love, but she didn't really understand James' request until he began to unbutton his britches with haste. With her left hand, she stroked his heated forehead and kissed his stubbled jaw fervently as the fingertips of her right hand met with hot, tender flesh. She was surprised at the smoothness and the warmth of his maleness.

"Oh god!!" He cried into her shoulder as her fingers, unafraid, closed around the bulging head of his erection. Rocking and pulling with an ever increasing rhythm, she finally drove him to crush her against his massive chest with firm arms.

His eyes were clinched and the most beautiful expression of pain shattered his face, "Oh god! Oh Lucy!" He cried again until a hot liquid exploded in her hands.

Lucy smiled, now intimately familiar with a man's body, holding his seed within her hands, she asked, "Umm... James, might you have a handkerchief?"

Immediately James whipped forth a large white handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to clean her hands and wipe the sticky film from his nakedness. He was quite comfortable with nakedness, but it was uncomfortable having his fiancée watch him so intensely.

Sensing his discomfort, "Is this suppose to be done in private? This 'cleaning up' of things?"

He was buttoning his britches now, uncertain how to answer. "I suppose it can be done in either way."

She could feel the armor going back on and she wanted their intimate moment to last longer, as it was still several miles back to town. It also reminded her that once they were married, she would be able to gawk at his lovely nakedness all she liked and again, she smiled.

In silence, he pulled her to chest, stroking her now disheveled hair. "How much do you know about men and women, Lucy?" He paused and quietly added, "Intimately?"

She snuggled her head beneath her chin; to him, she would enjoy playing the student. "I know what was taught to the ladies of the house and I know what was whispered in gossip," then turning her head upwards, "And I shall rely on my husband to teach me the rest." Cocking her head to one side, "Did I not please you?"

Kissing her forehead and exclaiming, "Immensely! You are prize student."

More silence and then lowly, "Are you aware that a man may please a woman as well?" This lesson had been taught him late in life-- God bless Mrs. Peterson!

Lucy's brow knotted. "You mean during..." She didn't a proper English word for it, "during l'amour."

James smiled, he liked playing the professor to his wife-to-be. "Well, yes that can bring joy to both partners," he coughed as he thoughtfully added, "But we better hold off on that until our wedding night."

Secretly, he wished that she'd object to waiting, but when he looked down upon her in the moonlight, he could see that was eagerly nodding, "Yes, that should wait until we're wed."

His fingertips stroked her protruding collar bone."I was thinking of touch. There is a place I could touch you Lucy that would give you great pleasure." His voice was velvety low and she delighted in hearing James make such naughty suggestions.

Silence. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it's only a touch." He stroked, her fingers gently. "Not penetration," his eyes burnt her skin, "Though I'm told that this kind of touch will ease the pain of our conjoining for you; on our wedding night that is."

Damn it, he'd never in his life spoken to a woman, a lady, so bold. Yet, she was to be his wife, was it not correct that he should school her in the ways of men and women?

Her breathing hitched, and again she felt a throbbing between her legs. "Would you think me scarlet if I were to inquire more?"

He was nervous, but he desired to touch her as well. He wished to claim her, if only with his fingers. "No. We are to be wed." Pulling her into his lap, he kissed, "And besides that, I want to touch you darling." Kissing her again, this time with ownership, voice dropping low, "I want to feel you."

As he kissed her, cradling her with one arm around her waist, she felt his palm travel up her skirts, skimming along her stocking, her garters and finally meeting naked thigh. There, as he kissed her, his fingertips pressed against the damp cotton of her knickers. She jerked, as they parted her French pantaloons and squeezed against her womanly parts.

Even as she jerked, he held her close, refusing to break their kiss, refusing to hear any rejection that she might have of his exploration. She moaned into his mouth as he damped his fingers, every so slightly sliding a finger into her silken heat as she cried out against his lips with need and want, as bold as a courtesan.

Finally, she pushed away from his kiss begging, "I must breathe. Don' t stop; please.. don't stop!"

This certainly wasn't lady like behavior as her shoes were lost and her legs were spread and braced against the facing carriage seat, giving James and his hands full license for exploration. She bucked and purred against him, his free hand, pulling down her bodice and pinching her nipples, Lucy cried out in pleasure and in pain until his torture was too much and her body popped like a broken string. Her legs contracted and she fell to the floor of the carriage crying.

"Lucy!" James heaved her up, the heavy musk of her body still sweetly clinging to him. "Are you alright?"

She cried more, his voice harsher than he intended "Speak to me!"

"That was wonderful. I have never known that was possible ," she cried, " and yet, I feel as if I am...I am wanton! Because," She balded, "I enjoyed it greatly."

Norrington laughed, "No, you are as God made you; I am certain." He rocked her, "Perhaps we have explored too much tonight." Then James kissed her shoulder gently saying, "I am sorry if I pushed you further than you wished to go."

But secretly, he was prideful that he'd given her her first lesson in loving making-- even it was only with his hands, he'd been the first to lay claim on this virgin prize. He had claimed, even if it was in a manner below their station, petting each other in the back of carriage. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered Theodore on the quarter deck saying of Elizabeth Swann, "Claim her tonight, sir and she will have no choice."

He had acted honorably that evening, taking confidence in her words; false words they proved with a very sharp public dismissal. He refused to let that happen again. He hated himself for not being able to trust Lucy for Elizabeth's sins, but so be it. He had claimed her physically and he knew she would not withdrawal from his proposal now.

"No, dear James." She sighed, "We have explored just enough to gain satisfaction and to spark further curiosity after our banns are read, of course."

"Good." He looked out the carriage window to dark Caribbean sea and smirked, the voice of the admiral was arrogant and strong, "I promise you Lucy, you shall not be disappointment in our marriage ... or in our marriage bed."

Lucy Giuliano hoped that was a frequent promise.

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