Every nerve ending, every hair, every molecule of Elizabeth Turner was on fire. The moment Jack's mouth had closed upon hers she forgot who she was. She forgot that there was a young man, a blacksmith who had wooed her, wed her, and died for her. She forgot that she was in a man's breeches, soaked to the bone, once more deserted on an island with a pirate. The same pirate that she had proclaimed she despised. And now here they were. Nothing but a tangle of lips and tongues, his hands gently commanding her head with a tug of her hair.

There was an instant familiarity in Jack's kiss. It was not only due to the fact that they had done this before; no, it was something which set him apart entirely. It was like a soul's recognition of its counterpart. Kissing Jack was like coming home for Elizabeth.

Her hands were on his chest, his arms, his back. Anywhere and everywhere she could put them as she groaned into his demanding kiss. She

was wantonly opening her mouth to him, begging his tongue's entrance. She surely felt she would die, and at the moment he deepened the kiss, she immediately granted him access, her knees weakening. She involuntarily shuddered in his arms, the stirrings of desire so foreign yet so welcome.

It was divine, really. This feeling could only be termed as such. To be reduced to nothing but a tangled ball of quivering nerves and boiling blood was surely divine, was it not?

Jack felt her small hands move to his shoulders, pulling him towards her as he backed her once more against the cave wall. She made a little sound in the back of her throat as his body pressed against hers, causing her to tremble. He gently wedged his knee between her legs and she let out a whimper, confusedly arching against it.

"Jack," she spoke his name between kisses. Her arms went about his neck, pulling him to her, as he took his lips away, but only to press them to the base of her neck.

He had forgotten the sound of his own name. Every inch of him was consumed with kissing her; touching her. Her neck smelled like a mixture of rain water and something indescribable; something uniquely...hers.

"Jack, please-," she spoke again, her voice no more than a whisper.

He stopped where he was, not moving his head from her neck. His hot breath made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck bristle and stand on end.

'Please stop or please don't stop?', he wondered. A few more moments of this and there would be no way he could hold himself back. Watching the veins tense under the skin of her neck he slowly brought his left hand to the fabric of her man's blouse. Painfully slow he drew it down until the felt the firm peak of her nipple through the fabric. She cried out and he had to steady her with the hand he'd had between her and the wall. Again he pressed her into the wall, this time mercilessly, forcing his leg between hers. There would be no more of this today. He knew she'd bother him until...well until she stopped feeling this heated. And he could not in good conscience seduce a day-old widowed virgin.

His hand went to her breast, cupping it, then gently pinching the nipple as he continued to suckle her neck. The next series of events happened so quickly, he almost didn't realize what had happened.

She pulled his mouth to hers, pushing her body into his leg as she did so. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her more tightly against him, rocking against her slowly. She wrapped her arms about his neck, hugging him to her, writhing against him, and in an instant she cried out as her body finally gave her release. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and his mind was racing. They stayed like that for several moments, and she kissed his neck, the only part of him at eye level. Her arms were still about his neck, her chest pressed to his. Jack could feel the labored breaths and furious pumping of her heart. He slowly moved his leg, careful to let her rest against him for a moment. When she pulled back and looked at him, she had tears in her eyes.

She spoke softly, on the verge of tears. "...that was...I mean, was that...?"

He didn't have to respond to her; his eyes, glazed with desire let her read everything plainly.

"Jack, what have I done?" Slowly, she released her grasp on him.

He almost had to shake his head to process this as most of his blood was in a region much lower. Glad he could calm and satiate her, but extremely frustrated himself, he spoke to her, irritated.

"You didn't do anything, I did it to you."

The tears came now. "I've never...I didn't know that...that..."

Never what? Dear God, how could that be?

She moved into him again, prepared to kiss him, but he held up his hands.

"Don't start that now, love. I will definitely not be able to stop myself if you do."

Elizabeth spoke calmly and directly.

"But I want to do to you what you did to me. I want you, Jack."

Having a beautiful woman who just climaxed in his arms tell him she wanted him was difficult to hear and not act upon. But he didn't. In the back of his mind, he thought several things. Of course he did not want to upset her. If she did something today she might regret tomorrow, there'd be no living with her. It was curious also, he thought, that she was able to push Will out of her mind so quickly. Then it occurred to him that perhaps she was just substituting him to make up for lost company. Lastly, having given her a first taste of lovemaking was intoxicating to Jack. He was a man accustomed to women with experience, and although wonderful, it grew boring after a time. Like he was just going through the motions without having any feelings towards the other person. It was tiresome, and compared to this, a waste of time altogether.

Jack Sparrow was not prone to sentimentality or chivalry. When he was around Elizabeth, she made him want to do those things he'd never done before; want to act a certain way. Then it struck him, like a bolt of lightning. Not only did he care for her. He was genuinely in love. He loved the way she jutted her chin when she was angry, and the way she smiled at him so the corners of her eyes softly crinkled. He loved her, all of her, and would someday love her in every way possible.

For the first time, he noticed the sun beginning to peek out from behind the clouds. It was both encouraging and discouraging. Now they would be free to leave the cave.

"Jack," she started. "What on earth are you thinking about?"

He looked over towards her. Once again he would be 'comical Jack' to get through this almost certainly awkward conversation.

"I'm thinking that I am hungry again, and now that the weather's nice I'm going to get something tasty."

And just like that, it was as if nothing happened.

"You...you are hungry?," Elizabeth looked at him, obviously upset. "You are hungry now, after we..."

He held up his hand.

"After I helped you."

"Helped me? Jack, it was more than that...I..."

"You wouldn't leave me alone! Had to shut you up somehow," he said, turning around, immediately regretting the words.

"I see," Elizabeth started, looking at the floor, then up at Jack's back.

"So you were simply-"

"Helping you."

"I see," she said again. He elaborated.

"You needed it, love. No shame in it."

She looked at him, fresh tears dotting the corners of her eyes. She was a combination of horrified, embarassed, and angry. Without another look towards Jack she hurried towards the sail, towards outside. She didn't listen to him protest at all as she pushed past and out into the first sign of sun they'd had.