Engulfed would be the only way to describe Angelicas current predicament. The weight of his body, his touch, his smell, the lingering memories that had assumedly faded; she is drowning in a sea of Jack Sparrow. Rather than continue to struggle against his intoxicating waves, however, she floats. Releasing a sigh and her stubborn Spanish pride, she surrenders to the man she had been fighting for years...just this once, of course.

Upon feeling her limbs relax Jack cautiously leaps into action. Tentatively, the hand around her waist begins to caress her clothed side, quickly pressing more firmly when he is met with no protest. Swiftly curling his fingers into her shirt, he draws it up to her navel, past her ribs and over the firm mounds of her breasts. Separating his lips from hers with an audible 'pop', she willingly raises her arms to let the shirt slide over her head before he molds their mouths together once more.

The first peak of revealed flesh is a catalyst, spurring them to frantically, desperately divest themselves of the suddenly plentiful fabric that burdens their forms. Soon enough their bare limbs lay tightly intertwined on the soft bed of sand. The small white grains stick to their lightly perspiring skin but the two temperamental lovers could hardly be bothered with such trivial details. In fact, anything and everything faded into nothingness in the wake of the anger, lust, spite and reluctant affection that comprised their smoldering passion.

Shifting so that Angelica lays beneath him, Jack hovers above her. Marvelously naked, chest heaving softly, dark curls strewn in a halo around her head; he is certain he'd never seen a more perfect sight.

Growing impatient, she locks her lithe legs around his waist, pulling him towards her with a whine. Needing no further encouragement, he finally, finally joins their aching bodies together for the first time in what feels like centuries.

Pausing for just a moment to reacquaint himself with the utter feeling of wholeness that came with being one with Angelica, Jack slowly begins to move. One arm goes around her waist, clutching her to him. Fingers snake into messy, sand filled curls. Her hands grip his flexing back muscles; hips roll to meet his.

For what must be the thousandth time since he'd met her he praises whatever higher power for the Hispanic blood that runs through her. The marvelous mounds and crevices of said heritage press tightly against him, moaning out curses in the native tongue to accompany the primal sounds of sex.

Sensing her finale drawing nearer, he picks up his tempo.

"Fuck!" the cry is wrenched from her lips as he pounds her relentlessly. All is overcome by the inexorable rhythm, the constant joining of his body with hers, pelvis hitting against pelvis. Lips try to frantically reach each other.

Then Angelica is throwing her head back, arching her body, positively shaking with release…and then it's over...for her.

Mind reeling with pleasure, chest heaving with exertion, Angelica finally finds enough focus to see that Jack still lies atop her, face contorted in pained concentration as he takes measured, purposeful breaths.

Confused, she stares at him and opens her mouth to speak when his eyes suddenly snap open, a mischievous and triumphant smirk lighting his features.

He was far from done with her yet.

Yes, I know, I KNOW. As a few reviewers have reminded me, this is ridiculously late. My apologies and internet hugs for all :)

I'll hopefully be putting up one or two more chapters and then viola! My work is done. Reviews give me butterflies and rainbows in my tummy...which I quite enjoy...by the way...