It Was the Rum

DISCLAIMER: Don't own a thing.

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"Jack, will you…will you show me what it’s like to be loved by a pirate? Just this once?”

He couldn’t believe his ears.

“…come again, luv?” he asked, almost positive that he had heard wrong.

“I don’t want safe…dull…and proper,” she said softly, taking his hands from her hips and holding them in her own for a moment or two. “I want new…and exciting and…you. I want you, Jack.” As those last few words passed her lips, she placed his hands on the swells of her breasts, causing his eyes to dareveneven more than they already were.

“N…no, you don’t, Elizabeth,” he stammered, finding it increasingly difficult to speak with a beautiful, willing woman straddling him, his hands resting on her bosom, which was slowly rising and falling with each breath she took. “It’s the rum. You’re drunk.”

She raised an eyebrow, leaning into him so that her breasts molded themselves into his hands, and looked straight into his fathomless eyes. “Not that drunk,” she whispered.

Jack took a few moments’ worth of time to think, though never breaking eye contact with Elizabeth. She seemed sober enough, or at least enough so to know what she was doing. He didn’t want to feel as if he’d taken advantage of her. He came back to himself only to see Elizabeth chewing on her bottom lip, almost as if she were nervous.

“Are ye sure, pet?” he asked.

“I’m sure.” Tentatively, cautiously, she brushed his rough, wind caressed lips with her own soft ones, the contrast in their textures almost catching her off guard. Yet it intrigued her; it made her want more. “I’m sure…”

“Elizabeth, listen to me,” he said seriously, and she paused, giving him her full attention. He raised a hand to stroke her cheek, tucking a strand of golden brown hair behind her ear while his eyes bored into hers. “If ye want me to stop, just tell me, aye?”

“Mm hmm,” she affirmed with a slight nod of her head. Her eyes darted all over, from his face to the sky to the pearl colored sand. For a few moments, neither of them spoke. In fact, Jack was quite content with the simple act of watchinr, or, observing the twinkle in her eyes, the way her wavy tresses of hair framed her face, the gentle flush of red that had come over her face, creeping all the way down to her neck. It was almost as if he were in a trance, of sorts.

“Jack, I…I don’t really know what to…” She paused in mid-sentence, hoping that he would get her meaning be hav having to elaborate.

Her soft voice, a delicate hint of pleading in it, brought him back to reality. He couldn’t help but smile at her innocence. It was endearing, and the fact that she was virgin and pure, the fact that she had never experienced physical pleasures before, hit him full force. He silently repeated to himself something that he had already knowhis his was no whore. No, she was different, much different. She was the type of girl who blushed at the smallest implication of anything sexual. And so, right then and there, he decided that he would treat her as such. He would not behave as he so often behaved with whores. Not that he treated them badly, mind. No woman had ever left his arms wanting or unsatisfied, that was for sure, but he wanted to make this more special than that, if only for the lass’s sake.

“Jack?” He could see that she was almost embarrassed at this point.

“Hush…hush,” he crooned reassuringly, smiling softly as hn twn two fingers over her lips. She didn’t utter a word, nor make a sound, simply keeping her eyes on his. Slowly and with seemingly everlasting patience, the pirate lowered her so that she was lying on her back in the sand, his hands guiding and supporting her until they were no longer needed.

The night was a typical Caribbean one, so the sand she was lying on felt comfortably warm on her skin. Jack let his hands hooverover her body, from her waist, to her bosom, to her neck and shoulders, denying his own need to touch her, if only for the time being. One fingertip grazed the hollow of her throat before it was deftly replaced by the gentle brush of his lips on her skin. She smiled a little as his slight mustache tickled her flesh, finding the feeling rather enjoyable.

Jack’s lips made their way across her neck, just below her jaw line, planting feather soft kisses that, if any softer, would not have been felt at all. His left handked ked itself around her waist and began to slowly attack the strings and laces that were keeping Elizabeth’s white under dress from slipping off of her body. Meanwhile, she tried to help him as best she could in her position, shrugging one shoulder out of the garment. Jack placed both hands on her arms, hindering her progress and causing her to look up at him curiously.

“Let me, luv.”

Elizabeth bit her lower lip but nodded. He frowned slightly at her apparent nervousn a c a crease appearing on his brow as he looked upon her. He wanted so badly just to comfort her, to let her know that she didn’t have to be so apprehensive. His hand, by its own accord, reached out to stroke a piece of her hair, letting it slip between his fingers. He brought his face within inches of hers, until all he could feel was her trembling breath on his face. His gaze penetrated hers for a moment or two before he spoke.

“Don’t be afraid, Elizabeth.”

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, hoping that her voice wouldn’t betray the impact his closeness was truly having on her, the havoc that it was wreaking on her body. A voice kept calling out to her from the back of her mind. This wasn’t right, and she knew it.

But she didn’t care. And even if she had wanted to stop, she wouldn’t have been able to; she knew that. No, she was not afraid, at least not of what Jack probably thought she was. Her trin Jin Jack was abundant, though perhaps, with one glance at sit situation, one would think it shouldn’t be. And yet there it was. No, if Elizabeth was afraid of anything, it was of the consequences. Everything had consequences.

But tonight…tonight, Jack’s eyes were erasing all thoughts of consequence from her mind. Jack’s lips, so worn and rough from high winds and seawater, were now descending upon her own, and she knew the battle that might have been was already lost. She had requested this, and he was giving it to her. And she wanted no more than to accept.

And accepting she was.

Elizabeth gasped as he slid the now unlaced dress from her shoulders, letting the material slide down her arms. He took the opportunity eagerly, slipping his tongue inside of her mouth, manipulating the probing muscle to caress and explore this new territory. She tasted sweet, like honey and something else, something wild that he couldn’t quite place. Something that he would always associate with her in years to come.

When he finally relinquished his hold on her mouth, and only because his brain had kicked in and reminded him that they both needed to breathe at some point and time, Elizabeth desperately tried to regain her breath. Her chest was rising and falling heavily in rhythm with Jack’s. She could still taste him on her lips, a mixture of rum and salt and spice, and she felt as if she were being consumed by his smoldering gaze, intense and now darkened by lust, yet possessing a great gentleness that threatened to consume her entirely.

Jack was the ocean, and Elizabeth was drowning.

The pirate slid the rest of the dress off of her figure, sliding it down her legs. His pace was painfully slow. His hands ran along her hips, and he planted a kiss just above her navel, letting his tongue graze the spot just enough to elicit a gasp from Elizabeth. She blushed, partially ashamed of the way she was reacting to him. Right then, she noticed that Jack was still fully clothed, which made her feel more uncomfortable still. Reaching out her hand, she began to undo a button on his shirt, but Jack grabbed it in his own firmly, loosening his grip just a little and placing a warm kiss on her knuckles. He shook his head.

“Jack,” she whined. “I feel so…so…”

“Naked?” he offered. Her cheeks colored an even deeper shade of red, and Jack’s breeches began to feel even tighter than before. She nodded. “Well,” he bit out, trying to restrain the urge to ravage her fully right then and there, “ye are quite, um, naked, pet.”

“Ja-” she began, but he cut her off.

“And you’re absolutely…” Kiss, “…beautiful.” Elizabeth’s expression softened, but her eyes were still pleading. Jack sighed. “Darling, I’m warnin’ ye now…ye may not like what you see.”

She frowned in confusion, slowly sitting up and nodding for the pirate to continue. What in the world did he mean? He shrugged in a gesture of defeat and swiftly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, hesitating before he slid the coarse, white material off his shoulders. Elizabeth’s confusion only grew, for she saw absolutely nothing that she ‘may not like.’ Quite the contrary, in fact. He was deceptively lean, but well built, his skin tanned from many days spent toiling under the sun. And as her eyes wandered over him, she found that resisting the urge to run her hands all over his chest was becoming a task in itself.

A task that she couldn’t accomplish.

Slowly, Elizabeth ran her fingers over his skin, loving the smooth feel of it underneath her fingertips. No…not smooth. She furrowed her eyebrows as her fingers grazed a rough, jagged line that ran along his chest. Tracing it, she discovered that it intersected with another line of the same nature…which met another further along. Her hand crept behind him so that it was on his back, and it was at this point that the shock hit her hardest. Closing her eyes, she ran her fingertips along the intersecting lines on the flesh of his back. Every time one line ended, another began, and together they formed a never-ending maze of sorts, a horrifying spiderweb. Jack’s words resonated inside of her head.

“It ain’t always…’lovely,’ Elizabeth.”

She opened her eyes again, looking up at Jack. He wore a stiff look, almost as if he were bracing himself for something.

"Jack..." She ran a hand over his cheek, sliding her fingers under his jaw line and forcing his head to turn and look at her. His eyes met hers, but she still couldn't tell what he was feeling, so well did he mask his emotions. Elith cth caressed the side of his face with her thumb. "What happened?"

"Nothing I'd like to remember, luv," he answered. She opened her mouth to say something, but he silenced her by raising a hand. "Nothing I'd like to talk about." As he spoke the words, Jack ran a fingertip along her bottom lip, keeping his mouth a fraction of the way open even after he'd finished talking.

Elizabeth nodded, causing Jack's lips to curl into the faintest ghost of a smile. He scooped her up in his arms, eliciting a surprised "oh!" from Elizabeth, and brought her to rest on his lap, one arm snaking around her back to support her, while the other rested on her hip, absentmindedly tracing slow, small circles into her skin. Her head was reeling from the simple touch, but she still yearned to comfort him. Something in her heart had snapped upon seeing -- or rather, feeling -- those scars, obviously from difficult times past. She tilted her head into his chest and placed a long, warm kiss into one of the spidery, white lines running across it.

Jack smiled at her attempt to silently alleviate whatever pain she thought those scars brought him. He hugged her closer to him, which only caused her to become more enthused with her undeclared task. She showered the expanse of tanned chest with multiple, wet kisses, always putting the same amount of tenderness in each one. After a while, she became a bit bolder, nibbling on his flesh here and there, grazing a certain spot with the tip of her tongue.

He found himself becoming lost in her sweet ministrations, so much so that he did not notice his hand start to travel lower and lower.

She moved upwards to his neck, nuzzling it and planting kisses on every bit of skin she came across. And then she let out aton ton moan, her eyes widening in surprise as the pirate's calloused fingers invaded the walls of her virginity. The unexpected touch, followed by an even more unexpected reaction, caused Elizabeth to give a bit of a start, rising up from his lap for a millisecond or two. He stopped in his actions completely, wondering if perhaps he'd gone too far too soon.

"No," she said, her breathing labored. "No, Jack. Don't stop. Please, don't stop, Jack."

He grinned, an impish glint in his eye, and was more than happy to comply with her request. She was moist and warm, but terribly tight, and it crossed his mind then that he was the first man to ever touch her in this way. The feeling surprised him, as he had never been in this situation before, and for some reason, the knowledge that he was the one introducing her to the world of physical pleasure was something he treasured, even if he did not know exactly why.

Elizabeth's insides were on fire. That was the only toy to describe the wonderful, euphoric sensations that this man was making her feel. She felt more alive than she'd ever been. It was as if every one of her senses had been heightened; the warmth radiating from Jack's body seemed greater, the sound of her own ragged breathing seemed louder, the taste of rum and salt on her lips seemed stronger. Not to mention the series of blush-inducing sounds that were emanating from her lips. She groaned as he increased the pace at which his fingers entered her, fingers that were doing wicked things that no gentleman would ever dream of doing.

"Never imagined I'd see you like this, Elizabeth," came Jack's amused voice. She furrowed her brows, trying to rediscover the ability to speak.

"You..." she gasped, her eyes widening as he grazed the very center of her womanhood, the bundle of nerves that, under his touch, always brought every woman to a climax. Elizabeth gritted her teeth, trying to scowl at the smug look on his face.

"What was that, luv?" Just as she opened her mouth again, he purposely increased his speed, relishing how much it was affecting her. A series of mewling noises escaped her throat, making Jack realized just how long it had been since he'd given a woman this kind of pleasure. He swallowed hard as she turned her brown eyes, now intensely dark, back to him.

"You make me like this," she rasped.

That was it. That was all the incentive Jack needed to finish it right then and there. He increased his speed yet again, biting the inside of his cheek in concentration, his only aim being to bring this woman to a spectacular climax. His other arm was still supporting her weight, now more than ever as she buried her head into the crook of his arm, apparently trying with all her might to regain some authority over her body.

But Jack would have none of it. He wanted to make her, the well brought up, prim and proper Governor's daughter, lose all sense of propriety she ever thought she had. He wanted her to abandon, at least for tonight, evsenssense of control she ever possessed, and he meant to gain just exactly what he wanted.

"Come on, luv," he coaxed, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he continued to pleasure her with his hand. "Let it all out."

She gritted her teeth fiercely, balling her hands into fists so tight that she knew there would be fingernail imprints on her palms after this was all over. Yet she was deteed ned not to let him win, foolish as it may have seemed. For, in reality, he had already won. He had won the very moment he had kissed her, all those long moments ago.

"Let it go, darling." His voice had taken on a husky edge, and she knew she couldn't possibly hold out much longer.

"Damn it, Jack," she panted.

"Damn me all ye want, pet," he grinned wickedly. With one final thrust, Elizabeth felt herself coming undone. One moment she was fighting for breath in Jack's arms under his skilled touch, and the next she was soaring far above the little island, far above the endless ocean that connected all lands in one way or another. For a few blissful moments, she forgot all about the curse, all about Will, all about her father and the Commodore and the millions of rules she was breaking.

She was free. For those few blissful moments, she was free.

And then she was floating gently downwards, as if she were being carried by a playful gust of wind. Suddenly, she found herself back in Jack's arms, basking in the peaceful aftermath of complete release. She was trembling furiously against Jack’s chest, so much so that Jack wrapped his arms around her completely, pulling her tightly against him. Elizabeth gratefully nestled her head into him, gritting her teeth in an effort to stop shaking.

Meanwhile, Jack was painfully aware of his own…problem. His manhood was yearning for the release he had just given, straining his breeches something awful, but he urged his thoughts elsewhere. For some reason that he couldn’t quite explain, he was giving in – had given in -- to morality and conscience, two things that he didn’t quite know he had before now. His heart swelled a bit as he looked down at Elizabeth’s still trembling form, which was clinging almost helplessly to his body, her limbs practically limp against him. It was in that moment the exe experienced a great surge of emotion, strong emotion that made him want to protect this being from all the bad things in the world, an emotion that took him completely by surprise.

An emotion that he was absolutely petrified of.

He briefly shut his eyes, forcing the thoughts to the very back of his mind. Wordlessly, he lifted Elizabeth from his lap, gently laying her down on the sand. His right hand picked up her previously discarded dress, and he attempted to sit her up, propping her elbows in a way that would let her support most of her own weight. She was still slightly light headed, however, and more reliant on Jack for support than he’d hoped for.

“Come on, luv,” he said gently. “Ye’re going to ‘ave to help ol’ Jack here.”

After a bit of improvising, Jack got her in a suitable enough position to slip the dress over her head. She felt so tired, so very tired, but she tried to help him as best she could. A few tugs and pulls later, her arms were through the sleeves, and Jack was pulling the last of her dress down her legs. Fortunately, dressing her had required so much focus that his own arousal had significantly decreased, down to a point of acute tingling.

Jack edged his way closer to the fire, gently pulling her along with him. Once he’d gotten within a comfortable distance, he lay himself down to rest on the sand, bringing a groggy Elizabeth to rest her head on his chest. She clenched and unclenched her fists, the same kof mof movements that you might catch an infant doing just before they went to sleep, and Jack smiled.

“Mmmthank you, Jack,” she murmured contentedly, adoring the feel of his flesh against her cheek. He ran a hand up and down her arm absentmindedly, planting a sound kiss on the top of her head.

“’Welcome,” he whispered.

The seconds of silence turned into minutes, and slowly, time ticked by. Jack’s breathing became even, his chest rising and falling steadily under Elizabeth’s head. He closed his eyes, giving her body one last squeeze before doing so, and waited for sleep to claim him.

As exhausted as Elizabeth was, however, sleep did not come all too quickly for her. Thousands of apprehensions and worries and fears were running through her mind, of a thousand different natures and origins. She was scared of what the consequences of this night would be, for something in the back of her mind, some deep, ominous voice, was warning her that they would not be to her liking. Not at all. She shuddered, snuggling closer to the pirate’s warm body.

She was also scared for Will. What would happen to him now that she and Jack were completely helpless to stop Barbossa and rescue him? She loved him, she knew that much, and she couldn’t bear the thought of anything bad happening to him. Another thought crossed her mind: what would he say if he ever found out about this night? The mere thought horrified her. No, Will could never find out. Never.

And lastly, what would become of them? Of her and Jack? Just how long could they survive on this island, with hardly any food, water, and loads of rum bottles in a store belowground? She cursed the drink, finding it almost amusingly ironic that they were surrounded by enough rum to last them for months on end, yet enough food to maintain them for perhaps a mere few days or so.

“Jack?” Her voice came out soft and unsure, almost inaudible to her own ears. The pirate stirred a bit, but made no further movement. “Jack?” she tried again, a bit louder.

“Hmmwhat?” he answered groggily. He squinted his eyes, looking down at her with a mildly disoriented expression on his face.

“I’m afraid.”

He frowned. “Of what, luv?”

“A lot of things,” she replied weakly. Jack studied her for a few moments, his eyes narrowed against the now-blinding glare of the fire. It took him a little to realize exactly what she was looking for: comfort. Simple comfort. The silent pleading in her eyes told him so, as did the almost undetectable desperation in her voice.

“It’ll be all right, darling,” he told her gently, one hand caressing her arm in a lulling manner. “Everything’ll be fine, I promise.”

“How? How can you promise something like that?”

“I just did, pet. And I don’t give me word ‘less I mean it, savvy?” She glanced up at him, meeting his dark eyes and slowly allowing a faint smile to creep onto her lips. He grinned back, hugging her to him in an effort to comfort her further. She inhaled deeply, loving his scent, and feeling safer than she’d ever felt, there in his arms.

“Why are you so good to me, Jack?” she asked, genuinely curious. “You’ve no obligation to be.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but then clamped it back shut again, realizing that for all the world, he had absolutely no idea. What kind of a name was he making for pirates, he thought, scorning his own behavior. Honestly. It really wasn’t pirate like. Any other scallywag would’ve taken full advantage of this situation, and he’d denied himself even that.

Yet, as he looked upon Elizabeth’s face, her skin glowing a lovely golden hue in the flickering of the firelight, he knew that it had been enough just to give her that kind of pleasure for the very first time. It made him feel powerful, in a way. And as a rule, he was never really the type for taking advantage of women. Why, if ever a man on his crew forced himself on a woman, there’d be hell to pay from Jack himself.

“Jack?”

Her small voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he gave his head a little shake before answering.

“I don’t know, luv,” he answered truthfully. He was, in fact, wondering the same thing. Then, with a sigh, he murmured, “Get some sleep.”