(no subject)
Title: Unfathomable
Author: Lady Di
Rating: NC-17/Adult
Pairings: Jack/Elizabeth
Disclaimer: Does anyone really own Jack Sparrow, after all? (Oh, really? Disney, huh... fancy that...)
Summary: Skyrockets in flight... afternoon delight... absolutely no plot, just a bit of a tumble.
Author's Note: My first smut -- be gentle, but I'd love to know what you think ! Oh, and my love and gratitude for
jacksmermaid are eternal. She is the goddess of beta and she rocks my proverbial socks.
The Caribbean sun burned overhead, the sea nigh unto steaming beneath its merciless glare. For what seemed to be the seventeenth time in as many minutes, Elizabeth Swann removed her tricorn and wiped away a rivulet of sweat that threatened to add to the sting in her eyes. She knew her watch had to be nearly over by the position of the sun, and when the bell finally sounded to signal the change of watch, she welcomed it as joyfully as she would the very trumpets of heaven.
It had been several weeks now since she had officially become an enemy of the Crown, turning her back upon a life of privilege and luxury to embrace the daily perils and pitfalls of crewing the most notorious pirate vessel in the Spanish Main. And though the choice had come at a dear price - her father believing, for his own safety, that she had perished at sea, and Will having returned with his own father to England with a broken heart - she would not have traded a single hour upon the Pearl for even a single moment ashore in a corset and bonnet.
Except, perhaps, the last hour of her watch today, she thought with a wry smile to herself. Now her chief concern was finding somewhere aboard the ship that was hidden from the broiling heat... and the prying eyes of the rest of the crew.
It had been of little surprise to anyone that Elizabeth and the Pearl’s newly undead captain had begun to share the captain’s cabin of late. Perhaps the most surprised by that turn of events was Elizabeth herself... Fair Lizzie, as Jack called her behind closed doors. At the thought, she felt the color rise until her ears burned, remembering the heat that had filled her the first time his lips murmured the endearment as they caught the flesh of her earlobe.
Outside of closed doors was another matter. She had vowed to pull her own weight and then some in respect to the crew, captain’s lover or no. But, being the only woman aboard made her a natural curiosity. It was difficult for some - Mr. Gibbs, especially, who had known her as the young governor’s daughter for many years - to treat her as an equal, rather than as a lady. Others were simply unaccustomed to the constant presence of a woman, never mind one barely more than a girl, and a high-born one at that. She had found that following a difficult watch, her own company was the most pleasurable. Other than Jack’s, of course.
It was with thoughts of shade and solitude in mind that Elizabeth found herself heading not for the captain’s cabin, but rather the cool recesses of the hold, where she could steal herself a few minutes of quiet and perhaps a cask of rum to bring up for later; doubtless whatever was already in the cabin would be near empty.
She had just reached the bottom step when a shadow darted into the patch of sunlight on the floor of the lower deck and the door above slammed, leaving her breathless and forcing her eyes to adjust as she spun around. Gleaming black eyes and a flash of gold greeted her, mere inches from her own face, and she jumped back with a sharp intake of breath.
“Jack!” she hissed, one hand over her racing heart. “You scared me clear out of my wits!”
“Well then,” Jack replied, taking one easy, feline pace to close the distance she had put between them. “Good thing it’s not your wits I was after, love.” And before she had a chance to draw another breath, she was pinned to a support beam by the length of Jack’s body, his mouth swiftly and thoroughly claiming hers, one lean thigh parting her knees as rough, jeweled hands captured her hips and pressed them to his own.
A groan of pleasure escaped her throat, and Jack’s hands responded instantly, slipping down to cradle her bottom, squeezing firmly as Elizabeth sought to deepen the kiss. Deftly slipping the tip of her tongue just beneath his top lip, she elicited the primal grunt she had been looking for, and with a saucy grin pulled back and looked at the lust-darkened face of her lover.
“You’re becoming predictable, Captain Sparrow,” she teased, leaning her head back to regard him with as serious a face as she could muster. “I do believe that is the same reaction I’ve gotten each time I’ve tried that little maneuver.”
Jack released her from his embrace and stepped back, the dangerous grin spreading across his face sending a thrill through Elizabeth. There it is, she thought, near bubbling over with triumph. Issue a challenge... reap the rewards.
“Mmm.” Jack nodded. “Predictable, am I?” He took another step back, eyes raking her from head to toe, his hips languidly cocked to one side like a cat ready to pounce. Elizabeth tensed, waiting for his reparteé... and blinked, confused when he turned silently and placed one booted foot upon the bottom step.
“Jack, where -“ the disappointment in her voice was nearly palpable, her tone on the cusp of whining, when Jack pivoted like lightning from the step, lowered his shoulder, and in one fluid movement scooped Elizabeth onto his back as if she were a sack of flour.
“Jack Sparrow, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” she squealed as she struggled, boots flailing madly as the blood rushed to her head. The world upside-down, she watched as the deck loomed up before her eyes as Jack ascended the steps and squinted in the bright sunlight.
“That’s Captain Sparrow, I would remind you,” Jack corrected, his voice far louder than necessary, putting on a show for the crew that was now looking curiously in the general direction of Elizabeth’s shrill protests. “And I will not have this conversation with you again, Miss Swann - your rum rations are not negotiable! You are not entitled to any more rum than anyone else on this ship...” Having reached the threshold of his cabin, he trailed off and placed Elizabeth on her feet inside, where she swayed unsteadily for a moment as the blood drained from her face and she regained her balance. “Now, then, what was it we were discussing?” Feigning concentration, he tapped at his chin with one ringed finger, dark eyes gleaming. “Oh, yes, you were saying how you found me to be...” With one movement of his foot, the door slammed shut; without looking back, his hand shot the bolt, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper: “Predictable.”
She still found herself amazed at how just the timbres of his voice could cause her inner muscles to quiver and contract, every low breath that passed his lips containing a promise of pleasure. She had learned to love exploring the variety of responses she garnered from him, simply by changing the pressure of her fingertips or the direction of a caress, almost like the nuances of playing a fine instrument. The feeling of control, of power their lovemaking gave to her was absolutely intoxicating. Even when she challenged or teased him, riling him into the playfully dark mood she had just achieved, bending to the aggressive passion she had stirred in him was, to her, simply proof of the influence she was newly able to wield.
It was even more thrilling than the time she had pointed a pistol at Cutler Beckett’s head.
But Lord Beckett was the farthest thing from Elizabeth’s mind just then. Captain Sparrow had her undivided attention at the moment. Grinning, his eyes narrowed, he was lazily stalking across the cabin directly at her, even as she returned his predatory gaze and stood her ground with playful defiance.
“Oh, really, Jack,” she tossed her head haughtily, “what are you going to do? Throw me down, tear open my bodice, have your way with me?”
Jack stopped in his tracks and allowed a short, spontaneous chuckle to burst forth. “Bit late for that, love,” he crinkled his nose in amusement, as if he were letting her in on a secret. “Seems to me, that’s ‘ow you met Captain Jack Sparrow.” He frowned suddenly and straightened, then gestured vaguely to the air as he made his point. “Well, all except the ‘aving my way part... the good commodore wasn’t at all keen on that idea. But I did tell you it was a day you’d never forget, did I not?” he added, and the grin returned as if it had never been gone. “Besides,” Jack pointed out, “you’ve not worn a proper bodice in ages. No need to get dramatic... all this talk of tearing bodices and the like.”
As he spoke, he had come to stand nearly toe-to-toe with Elizabeth, their faces close enough to feel the warmth of breath that passed between them, and for Jack to be surreptitiously aware of the heat rising in her cheeks and the slight hitch in her breath. The ultimate display of cheek, he thought affectionately, as she attempted to set her jaw and glare darkly back at him.
“’Tis no use, Fair Lizzie,” he whispered hoarsely, even as one hand came up to cup her head, the other pressing against the small of her back until the space between them had vanished and his mouth covered hers, his kiss brutal and demanding, her soft groans and pliant body speaking her acquiescence at last.
Again Elizabeth found herself backed into a wall, pinned between the Pearl and her master like a third lover welcomed into the bed, and her hips responded to their delightful confinement, firmly grinding against Jack, feeling his arousal trapped beneath breeches that were rapidly becoming too tight. She slipped a hand between them, pulling back from the kiss that bruised her lips to level a smirk of challenge at Jack as her fingers stole into his breeches and wrapped around his shaft, stroking upwards to the silky flesh of the head and back down.
A sharp hiss escaped Jack’s tightened lips, his head thrown back in pleasure. Elizabeth triumphantly chuckled, a low, throaty sound that brought Jack’s desire instantly to near unbearable. In a heartbeat, her tunic and linen shirt had been torn from her body and she stood clad in only black breeches and boots, her long, dark gold hair falling in loose waves just to the tops of her small, round breasts. Cupping one in each hand, she let her head loll back, tracing a fingertip across each small rosy nipple, shuddering as they hardened beneath her touch and sighing her invitation to Jack.
“Dear God, ‘Lizbeth...” she heard him rasp. Like Adam accepting the apple from Eve, he greedily drew into his mouth first one nipple, then the other as Elizabeth moaned and writhed against him, flicking with his tongue and grazing, then nipping just a little too hard with his teeth. Finally he rose to face her again, lifting her under both arms and turning to place her on his desk. “Off,” was all he managed to say, gesturing at her boots and trousers before urgently tearing at his own.
“Aye, captain,” Elizabeth answered pertly, her eyes dark as his own, her cheeks and breasts flush. Her boots dropped to the floor of the cabin, a small pair of trousers tossed forgotten to the corner of the room. Elizabeth only watched Jack struggle with his own vestments for a moment. Now completely and proudly laid bare to his eyes, she lay back on the charting table, and once she was sure he could see, covered the triangle of curls between her legs with one hand. Jack froze for a moment, then returned to desperately tugging at his left boot as he saw one long finger disappear into her folds, then emerge shining with moisture as Elizabeth lifted her head to see that he was watching.
“Bloody hell...” he whispered, eyes widening. Free of his clothing at last, he was on top of Elizabeth instantly, with one hand pinning both of her wrists above her head. “Whoever taught you that naughty move, love?”
“A nefarious pirate captain, I’m afraid,” she smiled, almost innocently. “Carried me off onto his ship, divested me of my maidenhood, and showed me all manner of such... unspeakable ways to pleasure a lover.”
A look of mock seriousness crossed Jack’s face. “The cad. I would hope that you at least garnered some return on said pleasure?” Without waiting for a response, he thrust inside of her, eliciting a wide-eyed gasp of surprise and satisfaction. Knowingly, he grinned above her as she panted, open-mouthed, and began to move her hips against him, his passion building as her inner muscles gripped his cock, her movements leaving him slick and hot with her moisture. Again and again, he pulled almost completely out of her, then plunged back inside. “Awful - bloody - pirate - bastard,” he grunted with each thrust, “to take such a lovely - supple - wicked - siren as yourself into his depraved company.” Just as he felt her climax building, he pulled out and rolled onto his back, allowing Elizabeth to mount him, knowing how much more intense her pleasure would be. A lazy smile crossed his face, his eyes closing as she slid herself down onto him, finding her rhythm and rocking, first slowly then building as her body took over. Jack took a bouncing breast in each hand, roughly pinching each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, until suddenly Elizabeth shuddered, announcing her orgasm with a primal sound somewhere between a scream and a groan, head thrown back in abandon as she felt the tremors clear to her very womb.
Jack felt her muscles contract and pulse deliciously on his shaft, and he began to thrust again in response, deeper and deeper, his hips slamming upwards over and over through Elizabeth’s climax, until his own came crashing upon him, a harsh cry of pleasure escaping his throat as his seed mixed with her fluids.
Gasping and panting, they sought out each other’s arms, lips, and caresses as breathing and heartbeats gradually slowed to normal. “So, love?” Jack murmured into her tousled waves with a mischievous grin she couldn’t see.
“So what, Jack?” Elizabeth whispered back sleepily.
“What do you have to say for yourself, ‘Lizbeth?”
“Say for my-“ Elizabeth picked her head up and met his eyes suspiciously. “About what?”
“Am I... predictable?” he punctuated the last word with a gently tweaked nipple. She squealed and wriggled, then laughed.
“Jack Sparrow,” she smiled, resting her head on his lean, scarred torso, “you are most definitely unfathomable.”
~ fin ~
Author: Lady Di
Rating: NC-17/Adult
Pairings: Jack/Elizabeth
Disclaimer: Does anyone really own Jack Sparrow, after all? (Oh, really? Disney, huh... fancy that...)
Summary: Skyrockets in flight... afternoon delight... absolutely no plot, just a bit of a tumble.
Author's Note: My first smut -- be gentle, but I'd love to know what you think ! Oh, and my love and gratitude for
jacksmermaid are eternal. She is the goddess of beta and she rocks my proverbial socks.
The Caribbean sun burned overhead, the sea nigh unto steaming beneath its merciless glare. For what seemed to be the seventeenth time in as many minutes, Elizabeth Swann removed her tricorn and wiped away a rivulet of sweat that threatened to add to the sting in her eyes. She knew her watch had to be nearly over by the position of the sun, and when the bell finally sounded to signal the change of watch, she welcomed it as joyfully as she would the very trumpets of heaven.
It had been several weeks now since she had officially become an enemy of the Crown, turning her back upon a life of privilege and luxury to embrace the daily perils and pitfalls of crewing the most notorious pirate vessel in the Spanish Main. And though the choice had come at a dear price - her father believing, for his own safety, that she had perished at sea, and Will having returned with his own father to England with a broken heart - she would not have traded a single hour upon the Pearl for even a single moment ashore in a corset and bonnet.
Except, perhaps, the last hour of her watch today, she thought with a wry smile to herself. Now her chief concern was finding somewhere aboard the ship that was hidden from the broiling heat... and the prying eyes of the rest of the crew.
It had been of little surprise to anyone that Elizabeth and the Pearl’s newly undead captain had begun to share the captain’s cabin of late. Perhaps the most surprised by that turn of events was Elizabeth herself... Fair Lizzie, as Jack called her behind closed doors. At the thought, she felt the color rise until her ears burned, remembering the heat that had filled her the first time his lips murmured the endearment as they caught the flesh of her earlobe.
Outside of closed doors was another matter. She had vowed to pull her own weight and then some in respect to the crew, captain’s lover or no. But, being the only woman aboard made her a natural curiosity. It was difficult for some - Mr. Gibbs, especially, who had known her as the young governor’s daughter for many years - to treat her as an equal, rather than as a lady. Others were simply unaccustomed to the constant presence of a woman, never mind one barely more than a girl, and a high-born one at that. She had found that following a difficult watch, her own company was the most pleasurable. Other than Jack’s, of course.
It was with thoughts of shade and solitude in mind that Elizabeth found herself heading not for the captain’s cabin, but rather the cool recesses of the hold, where she could steal herself a few minutes of quiet and perhaps a cask of rum to bring up for later; doubtless whatever was already in the cabin would be near empty.
She had just reached the bottom step when a shadow darted into the patch of sunlight on the floor of the lower deck and the door above slammed, leaving her breathless and forcing her eyes to adjust as she spun around. Gleaming black eyes and a flash of gold greeted her, mere inches from her own face, and she jumped back with a sharp intake of breath.
“Jack!” she hissed, one hand over her racing heart. “You scared me clear out of my wits!”
“Well then,” Jack replied, taking one easy, feline pace to close the distance she had put between them. “Good thing it’s not your wits I was after, love.” And before she had a chance to draw another breath, she was pinned to a support beam by the length of Jack’s body, his mouth swiftly and thoroughly claiming hers, one lean thigh parting her knees as rough, jeweled hands captured her hips and pressed them to his own.
A groan of pleasure escaped her throat, and Jack’s hands responded instantly, slipping down to cradle her bottom, squeezing firmly as Elizabeth sought to deepen the kiss. Deftly slipping the tip of her tongue just beneath his top lip, she elicited the primal grunt she had been looking for, and with a saucy grin pulled back and looked at the lust-darkened face of her lover.
“You’re becoming predictable, Captain Sparrow,” she teased, leaning her head back to regard him with as serious a face as she could muster. “I do believe that is the same reaction I’ve gotten each time I’ve tried that little maneuver.”
Jack released her from his embrace and stepped back, the dangerous grin spreading across his face sending a thrill through Elizabeth. There it is, she thought, near bubbling over with triumph. Issue a challenge... reap the rewards.
“Mmm.” Jack nodded. “Predictable, am I?” He took another step back, eyes raking her from head to toe, his hips languidly cocked to one side like a cat ready to pounce. Elizabeth tensed, waiting for his reparteé... and blinked, confused when he turned silently and placed one booted foot upon the bottom step.
“Jack, where -“ the disappointment in her voice was nearly palpable, her tone on the cusp of whining, when Jack pivoted like lightning from the step, lowered his shoulder, and in one fluid movement scooped Elizabeth onto his back as if she were a sack of flour.
“Jack Sparrow, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” she squealed as she struggled, boots flailing madly as the blood rushed to her head. The world upside-down, she watched as the deck loomed up before her eyes as Jack ascended the steps and squinted in the bright sunlight.
“That’s Captain Sparrow, I would remind you,” Jack corrected, his voice far louder than necessary, putting on a show for the crew that was now looking curiously in the general direction of Elizabeth’s shrill protests. “And I will not have this conversation with you again, Miss Swann - your rum rations are not negotiable! You are not entitled to any more rum than anyone else on this ship...” Having reached the threshold of his cabin, he trailed off and placed Elizabeth on her feet inside, where she swayed unsteadily for a moment as the blood drained from her face and she regained her balance. “Now, then, what was it we were discussing?” Feigning concentration, he tapped at his chin with one ringed finger, dark eyes gleaming. “Oh, yes, you were saying how you found me to be...” With one movement of his foot, the door slammed shut; without looking back, his hand shot the bolt, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper: “Predictable.”
She still found herself amazed at how just the timbres of his voice could cause her inner muscles to quiver and contract, every low breath that passed his lips containing a promise of pleasure. She had learned to love exploring the variety of responses she garnered from him, simply by changing the pressure of her fingertips or the direction of a caress, almost like the nuances of playing a fine instrument. The feeling of control, of power their lovemaking gave to her was absolutely intoxicating. Even when she challenged or teased him, riling him into the playfully dark mood she had just achieved, bending to the aggressive passion she had stirred in him was, to her, simply proof of the influence she was newly able to wield.
It was even more thrilling than the time she had pointed a pistol at Cutler Beckett’s head.
But Lord Beckett was the farthest thing from Elizabeth’s mind just then. Captain Sparrow had her undivided attention at the moment. Grinning, his eyes narrowed, he was lazily stalking across the cabin directly at her, even as she returned his predatory gaze and stood her ground with playful defiance.
“Oh, really, Jack,” she tossed her head haughtily, “what are you going to do? Throw me down, tear open my bodice, have your way with me?”
Jack stopped in his tracks and allowed a short, spontaneous chuckle to burst forth. “Bit late for that, love,” he crinkled his nose in amusement, as if he were letting her in on a secret. “Seems to me, that’s ‘ow you met Captain Jack Sparrow.” He frowned suddenly and straightened, then gestured vaguely to the air as he made his point. “Well, all except the ‘aving my way part... the good commodore wasn’t at all keen on that idea. But I did tell you it was a day you’d never forget, did I not?” he added, and the grin returned as if it had never been gone. “Besides,” Jack pointed out, “you’ve not worn a proper bodice in ages. No need to get dramatic... all this talk of tearing bodices and the like.”
As he spoke, he had come to stand nearly toe-to-toe with Elizabeth, their faces close enough to feel the warmth of breath that passed between them, and for Jack to be surreptitiously aware of the heat rising in her cheeks and the slight hitch in her breath. The ultimate display of cheek, he thought affectionately, as she attempted to set her jaw and glare darkly back at him.
“’Tis no use, Fair Lizzie,” he whispered hoarsely, even as one hand came up to cup her head, the other pressing against the small of her back until the space between them had vanished and his mouth covered hers, his kiss brutal and demanding, her soft groans and pliant body speaking her acquiescence at last.
Again Elizabeth found herself backed into a wall, pinned between the Pearl and her master like a third lover welcomed into the bed, and her hips responded to their delightful confinement, firmly grinding against Jack, feeling his arousal trapped beneath breeches that were rapidly becoming too tight. She slipped a hand between them, pulling back from the kiss that bruised her lips to level a smirk of challenge at Jack as her fingers stole into his breeches and wrapped around his shaft, stroking upwards to the silky flesh of the head and back down.
A sharp hiss escaped Jack’s tightened lips, his head thrown back in pleasure. Elizabeth triumphantly chuckled, a low, throaty sound that brought Jack’s desire instantly to near unbearable. In a heartbeat, her tunic and linen shirt had been torn from her body and she stood clad in only black breeches and boots, her long, dark gold hair falling in loose waves just to the tops of her small, round breasts. Cupping one in each hand, she let her head loll back, tracing a fingertip across each small rosy nipple, shuddering as they hardened beneath her touch and sighing her invitation to Jack.
“Dear God, ‘Lizbeth...” she heard him rasp. Like Adam accepting the apple from Eve, he greedily drew into his mouth first one nipple, then the other as Elizabeth moaned and writhed against him, flicking with his tongue and grazing, then nipping just a little too hard with his teeth. Finally he rose to face her again, lifting her under both arms and turning to place her on his desk. “Off,” was all he managed to say, gesturing at her boots and trousers before urgently tearing at his own.
“Aye, captain,” Elizabeth answered pertly, her eyes dark as his own, her cheeks and breasts flush. Her boots dropped to the floor of the cabin, a small pair of trousers tossed forgotten to the corner of the room. Elizabeth only watched Jack struggle with his own vestments for a moment. Now completely and proudly laid bare to his eyes, she lay back on the charting table, and once she was sure he could see, covered the triangle of curls between her legs with one hand. Jack froze for a moment, then returned to desperately tugging at his left boot as he saw one long finger disappear into her folds, then emerge shining with moisture as Elizabeth lifted her head to see that he was watching.
“Bloody hell...” he whispered, eyes widening. Free of his clothing at last, he was on top of Elizabeth instantly, with one hand pinning both of her wrists above her head. “Whoever taught you that naughty move, love?”
“A nefarious pirate captain, I’m afraid,” she smiled, almost innocently. “Carried me off onto his ship, divested me of my maidenhood, and showed me all manner of such... unspeakable ways to pleasure a lover.”
A look of mock seriousness crossed Jack’s face. “The cad. I would hope that you at least garnered some return on said pleasure?” Without waiting for a response, he thrust inside of her, eliciting a wide-eyed gasp of surprise and satisfaction. Knowingly, he grinned above her as she panted, open-mouthed, and began to move her hips against him, his passion building as her inner muscles gripped his cock, her movements leaving him slick and hot with her moisture. Again and again, he pulled almost completely out of her, then plunged back inside. “Awful - bloody - pirate - bastard,” he grunted with each thrust, “to take such a lovely - supple - wicked - siren as yourself into his depraved company.” Just as he felt her climax building, he pulled out and rolled onto his back, allowing Elizabeth to mount him, knowing how much more intense her pleasure would be. A lazy smile crossed his face, his eyes closing as she slid herself down onto him, finding her rhythm and rocking, first slowly then building as her body took over. Jack took a bouncing breast in each hand, roughly pinching each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, until suddenly Elizabeth shuddered, announcing her orgasm with a primal sound somewhere between a scream and a groan, head thrown back in abandon as she felt the tremors clear to her very womb.
Jack felt her muscles contract and pulse deliciously on his shaft, and he began to thrust again in response, deeper and deeper, his hips slamming upwards over and over through Elizabeth’s climax, until his own came crashing upon him, a harsh cry of pleasure escaping his throat as his seed mixed with her fluids.
Gasping and panting, they sought out each other’s arms, lips, and caresses as breathing and heartbeats gradually slowed to normal. “So, love?” Jack murmured into her tousled waves with a mischievous grin she couldn’t see.
“So what, Jack?” Elizabeth whispered back sleepily.
“What do you have to say for yourself, ‘Lizbeth?”
“Say for my-“ Elizabeth picked her head up and met his eyes suspiciously. “About what?”
“Am I... predictable?” he punctuated the last word with a gently tweaked nipple. She squealed and wriggled, then laughed.
“Jack Sparrow,” she smiled, resting her head on his lean, scarred torso, “you are most definitely unfathomable.”
~ fin ~