Adrift

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Thank you to my very precious reviewers...OokamiMomo, Ero Sennin, Risa and Conni, I am so happy you are enjoying the story and that more importantly, you let me know! God bless your little hearts...you don't know what it means to me to get that kind of feedback. A thousand bouquets to RF for her beta duties, spending ridiculous hours to help me keep the story on track...I would truly be lost without your input.

I appreciate your patience; this was not an easy chapter.

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As bizarre as nearly everything had been for them thus far, Barbossa should have been past surprises. When Elizabeth had echoed the words of her future self, though...the same ones she’d sleepily uttered the morning after they’d first consummated their love...it was truly was more than a man could be expected to bear.

Hardly an hour earlier, he’d found himself standing alone and naked in his quarters on the Pearl, grasping only the pendant that Elizabeth had worn when he’d stepped into the portal, cradling her body in his arms. Nothing from the twenty-first century had made it through to the other side...and that seemingly included Elizabeth herself. He’d been devastated to find her gone from his embrace and the grief had driven him to his knees, leaving him too consumed by his loss to even cry out.

He remembered that on the eve of the original skirmish - like most every man who’d made port - he’d spent the night drinking and whoring in the taverns of the town of Shipwreck. War was always an uncertain thing and as he’d not been afforded the opportunity for either a good fuck or a good drunk since his resurrection, Hector had been determined to pursue both to excess in case he was cut down in the midst of battle and the opportunity to do so again escaped him forever.

The pain of his loss was too fresh and raw now, though, to even attempt to recreate those hedonistic hours. Instead he’d sequestered himself in his cabin, dimming the lights and nursing his shattered heart in the cold comfort of the darkness. He knew he had to venture forth, had to find the young Elizabeth Swann and somehow convince her of the need to walk a different path, but it was an easier thing to say than do. Even donning the old familiar clothes and jewellery he’d found lain out as though by some phantom manservant had proven a terrible ordeal.

It should have brought him some small measure of peace to be back aboard the Pearl, but he found no consolation in the ornate furniture and plush drapes that had been the backdrop of his life for so long. Where there had been deep, rich colour, his surroundings now seemed grey and lifeless. The apples on the table were bitter and mealy, the wine no more tempting than seawater. Even little Jack’s company brought him no joy; Hector was so sick with sorrow that he found himself wishing he’d taken his own life at Tia Dalma’s hut and died as well.

As if someone was aware of that very desire and moreover, intent on fulfilling it, the sanctity of his quarters had been breached by an intruder. Had his mind not been clouded with sorrow, such an incursion would not have been possible at all; regardless, he had no choice but to fight. In a moment of cold clarity, Hector decided that the interloper was intent on hastening his demise before the impending battle. Instinctively, he attacked his would-be assassin, a faceless and almost welcome target for his wounded rage. The discovery that it was Elizabeth who had crept into his cabin had almost been enough to stop his heart entirely, accompanied as it was with the shattering realization that he'd come within a breath of killing her himself.

It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed to compose himself to speak, never mind actually face the girl. Her manifestation was too much like a haunting to do anything but cause him more pain.

As she spoke to him, he was grudgingly forced to consider that she might have sought him out that night so long ago, only to return disappointed to the Empress when she found him absent. Had he remained aboard then and spent an evening in thoughtful contemplation rather than inebriated and sated oblivion, perhaps she’d never have married Will Turner at all and would have been his from the day of the battle onwards.

But Hector Barbossa was no longer the same man he once was, and had he been presented with the same opportunity then, he’d likely have botched any attempt at seduction with artless gropes and vulgar words. He might have loved Elizabeth all along, but he hadn’t truly known her until they’d found one another again in Florida…not in any way that mattered.

Over the centuries, Hector had forgotten how very young she’d been when they’d first met...no more than a child wrapped in the trappings of womanhood and for certain not old enough to know that which she didn’t yet know. At least with the lights low, he could simply listen to her voice and imagine that the Elizabeth who loved him hadn’t just vanished from his arms. He hadn’t foreseen the anger he’d feel when the lanterns glared brightly and showed her to be the dewy, innocent maiden instead of the woman to whom he’d given his heart.

His anger grew when it became clear that she was no more than she appeared to be. He could find no part of his Elizabeth within her, no memory of their deepest desires or shared tumultuous history. The disappointment made him cruel...he lashed out in rebuke at her for being who she was instead of the one he so desperately needed her to be. When he kissed her roughly, it hadn’t come from passion...it was, in fact, so spiteful that it bordered on hatred.

Although Elizabeth gave some token resistance at first, she didn’t fight him...in fact, she submitted to him completely, taking the brunt of his assault and returning only hungry whimpers and needful sighs. Her reaction infuriated Hector further even as it spurred on his lust... why did she not scream, cry, or protest his savage behaviour rather than welcome it? Worse still, wanting her so badly felt like a terrible betrayal of the Elizabeth he loved and he hated her for that, too. He’d been on the verge of taking her out of sheer malice when she said what she’d said...

*****

“Enough of this ridiculous hat. The feathers tickle...Barbossa, take it off!”

Her words crashed against his heart like a rogue wave breaking over the bow, dousing both rage and arousal with shocking suddenness. Ridiculous statement though it was, he understood immediately that what she said must be an omen. When Elizabeth had first muttered that very phrase on a tranquil morning aboard the Corazón Perdido, it had been a memory after all, ‘though he’d had no way of knowing so at the time. A memory of this night... this moment...this past. A sign that events were already in motion that would bring about a change in the future...

There was no other Elizabeth, he finally realized as grief washed over him again...not anymore. But the fact that the girl came to him…had chosen him above all others…it had to mean something. Whether she truly comprehended what it was she was seeking from him, he had no way of knowing. But perhaps her presence meant that Elizabeth’s soul was reaching out to him the only way it could.

Feeling contrite and shaken, he loosened his grip on her hair and embraced her more gently as she found her feet again. “I shouldn’t have said that,” she murmured, crossing her arms bashfully over her chest. “It wasn’t my intention to offend.”

She thought he had stopped because he was upset that she’d insulted his hat! Hector almost laughed at the ludicrousness of it, but knew that a single wrong word would send her scurrying back to the Empress, embarrassed and angry. He had to tread carefully. There was no recognition from her yet...at least, not the type of recognition he sought. But what she had blurted out gave him sufficient hope that he couldn’t bear to have her leave just yet.

“Me hide ain’t so thin as all that, girl,” he assured her, tilting her chin up and forcing her to meet his eyes again. He took his tattered hat in hand and tossed it by the brim onto the table behind them, watching for a moment as it skimmed over the smooth surface and came to a rest just short of the edge.

Elizabeth looked up at him and bit her lip in such an endearingly familiar way that his heart tumbled over itself. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you without your hat,” she said shyly, her cheeks flushing a most appealing shade of pink. “It will take some getting used to...”

She was nervous, that much he could see...uncertain yet sorely tempted by what she wanted so desperately. Tentatively she leaned closer, clutching his shoulders and standing on the tips of her toes until she could press her lips lightly to his. Caught by surprise, Hector let her take the lead, willing to give her free rein – at least for the time being. Her kiss was timid and soft, an exploration of his mouth that was untutored but captivating nonetheless. Her sweet breath was scented with the bouquet of the wine she’d consumed, and he groaned deep in his throat as she dared to flick the tip of his tongue with her own. Her approach was so unlike what he’d come to expect from Elizabeth, but still she was able to bring him swiftly to readiness, his need renewed with the delicate butterfly kisses she was bestowing.

“If that be the reward fer complyin’ with yer request,” Hector rasped, slipping his hands over the swell of her hips and drawing her closer, exalting in the feel of her sleek body nestling against his, “then ye need but ask, and I’ll not rest ‘til the moon and stars be yers for the takin.”

“I’ve no interest in celestial bodies, Barbossa,” Elizabeth confessed, her voice sultry with longing as she kissed the line of his jaw and tugged the kerchief from his head. “Tonight I want only yours.”

At any other time and with any other woman, the same wanton words would have shattered Hector’s control. He steeled himself against the rising fire in his blood, his hands fisted in restraint. He would not have her first time be something brutish and rough. If he was to be the one to take her innocence – if she was indeed offering him that most sacred gift – then it would be done gently and slowly. And maybe...just maybe...it would be what reignited her memory of their love.

He kissed her sweetly, savouring the silky smoothness of her lips and sampling the tender hollows of her mouth until she quaked beneath his ardent affections. She rubbed against him like a cat and dug her nails into the shoulders of his coat as she sought purchase, feminine instincts picking up where her experience fell short. His cock pulsed against her navel as she parted her lips further and curled her tongue around his in a teasing, maddening rhythm.

“’Lizabeth,” he gasped as he unwillingly pulled away, needing to speak before all lucid thought fled his brain. “Should I take ye to me bed, there can be no turnin’ back. Long have I had me heart set upon ye and I’ll not be capable of holdin’ meself in check should ye have second thoughts in the midst of passion. If ye have doubts, now be the time…”

“Good lord, what do you expect from me?” she cried, her head falling back in exasperation. “My very presence should speak for itself...you said as much just moments ago!”

“And in the bright light of day?” he countered, “What then? Will tomorrow find ye avoidin’ me gaze and tryin’ to convince yerself that I took liberties? Fer too long already have ye thought ill of me...” It would be worse by far to follow through with his desires if he thought she’d hate him for it afterwards.

Elizabeth bunched the lapels of his coat into her small fists, pulling him so close that he could see the topaz flecks in her earnest eyes and feel her warm breath caressing his face. “I’ve been plagued by doubt every step of our journey, have questioned every decision I’ve made since we set out. But not tonight…not with you.”

She turned from him then, hugging her elbows as she returned to the table. The lamplight shone through her gauzy gown and revealed a clear silhouette of her long, lithe body that caused Hector to suck in a sharp breath. She almost seemed to be some elusive fey creature from the stories his mother had told him when he was but a lad. Elizabeth Swann...beautiful and otherworldly, a creature of magic and light.

“You’re right about one thing... it’s taken facing death for me to finally see things clearly. To understand that what I’ve been seeking so desperately has been there all along; I was just too blinded by what I thought I should want to be able to appreciate it,” she said quietly, picking up his hat and stroking the dark ostrich plumes in such an intimate way that he nearly moaned from envy. “But when I stood still long enough to listen to my heart tonight, I suddenly knew. Whether our world ends at dawn or stretches on for decades ahead of us, my choice would remain the same.”

Elizabeth threw his hat down and came around to face him again. He offered his hand to her and she took it, her slender fingers weaving through his and her eyes sparkling as she let him pull her close. She laid her palms against his chest and chastely kissed him. Such tenderness thrust the remaining pain of loss from the chambers of his heart and rendered him speechless with emotion. “A woman can only surrender her virtue once, Hector,” she whispered. “Don’t ever think I came to you lightly.”

Whatever qualms he had disappeared the instant she said his given name. Barbossa swept her up into his arms, kissing her fiercely as he carried her across the cabin to his narrow featherbed. Her body trembled as her arms locked tightly around his neck and her mouth responded hungrily beneath his as he laid her across the rumpled sheets. He slipped his arms from beneath her and stood, gazing possessively at the prize that was once again his to claim.

The sight of the girl stretched out across his bed was one he knew he’d carry in his mind and heart forever. Caught somewhere in between youthful arousal and skittish anticipation, she stared up at him, her eyes dark and trusting. Her pert little nipples pressed against her pale cotton bodice, jutting upwards with each eager breath. Golden brown hair cascaded over his pillows, glossy sun-kissed waves shining like fine Oriental silk. She swallowed hard and his eyes were drawn to her smooth throat, her pulse fluttering visibly just beneath her jaw. He wanted to kiss her there, to savour the scent of her skin and feel her heartbeat quicken against his lips as she yielded to her desires…and his.

Hector kicked off his boots and knelt beside the bed, caressing her bare arm with the back of his fingers and smiling as he watched gooseflesh rise in wake of his touch. He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers, catching her gasp of pleasure in his mouth as his fingertips grazed her breast through soft fabric. He tugged roughly on the ribbon that held her gown modestly closed, intent on freeing her from her last bit of clothing. Just as the ties came loose, though, she suddenly grabbed his hand and stopped him short.

He jerked his head up, confused by her reluctance. “Wait…please,” she said breathlessly, kissing his knuckles to soothe his irritation. “It doesn’t seem fair that I’m wearing next to nothing while you’re still fully clothed.” Elizabeth smiled bashfully. “I want to see you, too.”

Caught up as he’d become in partaking of her charms, it hadn’t once occurred to him that she might want to indulge herself in the same way. In fact, he’d forgotten that she’d likely never laid eyes on a man unclothed, least of all him. It pleased him that she was brave enough to demand it of him…it boded well for the night. “There’d have been nothin’ between us eventually,” he said, grinning as he lifted his arm and slipped the baldric off his shoulder. “But if yer not inclined to wait, far be it from me to deprive ye.”

He’d just begun to wrestle with his coat when she sat up, settling on her knees before him. Lunging forward, she caught his lips in another impulsive kiss that sent hot, fierce need sluicing through his body. She nearly robbed him of the coordination necessary to disrobe as her tongue tangled with his and her lips slid over his mouth, uttering low moans of bliss from deep within her chest that he couldn’t help but echo.

Elizabeth fumbled impatiently with the buttons on his waistcoat, groaning her frustration as they stuck. “Why must you wear so damned many clothes?” she complained, abandoning her efforts when he pushed her hands away and took care of the buttons himself. Her hands dropped instead to Hector’s waist, and she slipped her fingers beneath the knots of his sash, tugging and working at it until she drew it from around his body and flung it aside.

“Any captain worth his salt must dress the part,” he grumbled between kisses, rolling his shoulders so that both coats slid down his arms. He fought with the sleeves until the heavy garments fell away and there remained only a thin linen shirt between her hands and his skin. “Besides, anticipation enhances the thrill.”

He felt the puff of her laugh against his lips as she yanked hard on the buckle of his broad belt and heard the heavy leather band hit the floor with a dull thunk. “I have anticipated for far too long.”

Her unexpected boldness stirred the fire in his blood. Unwilling to take precious minutes to unfasten the many small white buttons on his shirt, he sat back on his heels and simply pulled it off over his head instead. Her hands were on him in an instant, greedily moving over his hot, damp skin in a journey of sensuous discovery. Hector exhaled sharply and closed his eyes as her fingers feathered over his shoulders and torso, so delicately that it was no less than pure carnal torture. As she trailed small, wet kisses across his chest, he kept his hands clasped at his side, determined not to interrupt her delicious exploration lest she stop altogether. Within the confines of his small clothes he grew increasingly stiff and heavy, and he warred with the conflicting urges of letting her take what she wanted in her own time and taking what he wanted now.

Desperate to touch her, he slid his fingers beneath her jaw and cradled her face, kissing her lush, swollen lips with such urgency that she writhed against him. Her fragrance surrounded him, the subtle perfume of her skin and the earthy scent of her arousal filling his senses. The effect was as dizzying as the most potent of liquors, and he was finding it a struggle not to succumb to his baser instincts and plunge himself into the warm, wet haven between her legs. Though it might have brought him some measure of relief to do so, hurting her like that – and there was no doubt that if he took her before the time was right, she’d be injured in more ways than one – would turn her from him for good. No, it was a situation that required patience and he’d have to tamp down his own needs until he knew she was ready to take him.

Deflowering maidens had never been much to Hector’s taste; too often it seemed to end in tears for the young woman and naught but frustration for her partner. When he’d taken lovers in the past, he’d unfailingly sought out those women as knew how to please a man and better yet, how to take their own pleasure in turn. But this time was different. There was endless satisfaction in the knowledge that no one else had yet tasted her in the way he would...no one else would draw the same startled, lustful cries from her throat. The mysteries of her body would be revealed to him alone, his to plunder...his to keep. It would be worth the delay.

As they kissed, her gown slipped off her shoulders to reveal the crest of her milky white breasts, and he sighed unsteadily as he parted her bodice to expose them completely. Her dusty rose nipples were taut and too delectable a temptation to resist, so he ducked his head, sucking one in between his teeth and teasing it to a hard point with the tip of his tongue. Elizabeth gasped and arched her back, roughly grabbing at the nape of his neck so she could thrust herself further into his mouth.

He suckled unremittingly, splaying his hands over her shoulder blades to hold her in place as she moved against him, her breathing short and her fingers snagging painfully in his hair. Abruptly he drew away, eliciting a pleading whimper from Elizabeth that made him smile wickedly. Her protest was cut short as he filled his mouth with her other satiny breast, paying it the same devoted homage as he had the first. Each lave of Hector’s tongue, each nip of his teeth sent shivers through her that he knew were bringing her ever closer to the edge.

Her moans began to border on impassioned sobs and from the honest intensity of her response, he knew he could bring her to climax in that fashion if he so chose. It would do him no good, though, to exhaust her before they could find their release together. No other way was so utterly satisfying and he desperately wanted to be buried deep within her when she first found fulfillment. Reluctantly he let her slick nipple slide from his mouth and kissed a path up between her breasts, feeling her pulse race against his lips as he nuzzled the sweat-dampened crook of her neck.

“Why...?” Elizabeth asked, her voice sounding as though she was parched with thirst. “Why did you stop?”

“T’was but a taste,” Hector promised, skimming his mouth over the smooth arch of her throat. “Can’t be rushin’ it.”

He tugged the straps of her shift downwards, pulling the gown off of her arms as far as the slight swell of her hips, where it settled in folds around her waist. The cooler air must have triggered some nearly forgotten habit of modesty, for she attempted to cover her breasts and the few soft curls barely glimpsed at the crux of her legs with her hands.

“We’ll be havin’ none of that,” he scolded gently, taking her wrists and slowly forcing her down until she was laying on the coverlet, her arms pinned on either side of her head. He straddled her on the mattress but kept his weight on his knees, not wanting to do crush her slight body beneath him. “Ye’ll keep no secrets from me...”

Elizabeth jerked beneath him in a vain attempt to free herself from his hold. “And yet you’ve managed to reveal very little,” she said huffily, her eyes dark and hooded. She arched her brow and tilted her chin challengingly.

“Or not so little, as the case may be,” he chuckled lowly, pressing one of her small hands against the heaviness that strained the front seams of his breeches. She sucked in a deep breath and her eyes widened with wonder, but she didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she furtively wrapped her fingers around what she could and ran her palm slowly along his throbbing length, testing his control further. He clamped his jaw firmly and squeezed his eyes tight shut, subjecting himself to her inquisitive groping until he couldn’t help but grind against her. He came dangerously close to spending himself early and ruining the night for good but as if sensing it, she left off just in time, her hand skimming over the ledge of his hip.

Hector’s breath hitched, every part of him overly sensitive now. Elizabeth’s eyes gleamed as she began to understand the power she wielded over him. “It feels very impressive, Barbossa,” she said breathily, her cheeks and chest flush with red. “But I’ve always thought that seeing is believing.” With that, she made a grab for the buttons that held his pants closed and began to wrest at them impatiently.

“Ye grow brazen, missy!” Hector growled, snatching her hand away and trapping it along with her other hand above her head. Elizabeth snarled at him and struggled in her bondage. His cock bucked, the physicality of the exchange heightening his excitement.

“Unhand me,” she seethed, her breasts heaving as her breathing got shallower. Her skin glistened with a golden sheen of perspiration, a fine shimmering mist that made it seem as though she was aglow. She was an angel, he decided, even if the blazing fire in her eyes was more evocative of a demon.

He leaned closer, pressing himself between her legs enough so that she could feel every inch of him against her mound, clothed though they both were. “In me own good time,” he grinned menacingly, shifting his hips and teasing her with the promise of what was to come before moving off of her again. Elizabeth’s groan of frustration was almost enough to make him crow in triumph as he deftly secured her wrists in one hand, leaving the other free to torment her further.

Capturing her eyes in his burning gaze, he slid his fingers down the slender column of her neck, tracing a slow and tortuous path between her breasts and down to where her nightgown remained bundled up around her waist. Gathering up a handful of the garment, he yanked sharply and tore it heedlessly from under her hips, prompting her to cry out at the suddenness of it. It was a simple matter to disentangle her shapely legs from the material and then she was naked on the bed before him, tanned brown where the sun had bronzed her and pale as moonbeams everywhere else.

Rather than inflaming Elizabeth’s passions further, though, stripping her remaining clothes away seemed to subdue her, and Hector’s heart faltered at the unexpected vulnerability he saw emerge on her face. Her expression was a sharp reminder that she really was little more than a girl; in his eagerness to bed her, he’d lost sight of that. She didn’t truly know him at this point, couldn’t comprehend that his action hadn’t been a prequel to brutality. Coming face to face with the shocking reality of being laid bare and completely at the mercy of a man much older and much stronger...it would be a daunting prospect for any young lass.

“Ye needn’t look at me that way,” he grumbled, damning himself inwardly for frightening her. “I’d not have forced ye.”

It was maddening, trying to remember that he could no longer conduct himself like a rogue. Elizabeth might once have revelled in his aggression and even shared in it, but that was no longer the case...or at least, it wasn’t the case yet. He eased himself off of her and stretched out at her side, allowing her hands to slip free from his hold. Although his manhood strained ardently against her thigh, he didn’t make a move to touch her beyond that...he’d pushed his advantage too far as it was.

Elizabeth stared at him with seeming indecision before turning over and tucking her head under his chin. One small hand crept around his waist and settled on his back, her fingers spreading out as she attempted to snuggle closer. He groaned at the agony of having her so near, but he punished himself for his earlier fervour by not allowing himself even one needful stroke of her velvety skin.

“Have I ruined everything?” she murmured plaintively even as she entwined her legs with his.

“Ye’ve done nothin’ wrong,” he said crossly as she stroked the line of his backbone, the flittering feel of her caress causing him to shiver. “But gods above, girl...if only ye could see yerself through me eyes, ye’d understand how a man might lose control in the face of such loveliness.”

She sucked in a sudden deep breath and went very still. “Hector, that was...” she said, her voice quavering slightly, “...no one has ever...”

Elizabeth propped herself up on one elbow and cradled his cheek in her hand, gazing at him seriously before kissing him with a wholeheartedness that enveloped his very soul. His arms curled around her of their own accord; whatever restraint he’d clung to was swept away in the rush of her innate passion.

The last of Hector’s clothes vanished in a desperate flurry of movement. Between the two of them, he could not have said who was more determined to see the garments gone, nor did he care. All that mattered was that when he finally naked, the sensation of flesh against flesh was exquisite, familiar and new at the same time, and her eager touch caused his blood to sing through his veins.

As pleasantly distracting as he was sure his affections were, Elizabeth resisted his efforts to roll her beneath him again. Instead, she twisted away and slung a leg over his hip, pulling herself up to straddle his waist. Leaning forward and pushing down on his shoulders, she pinned him as best she could into the bedding. Had he so wished, it would have been an easy matter to throw her off; but as fortune would have it, his cock was nestled quite comfortably against the plumpness of her ass, and he was content for the time being to lay back and gaze upon her body in all its youthful glory.

He ran his hands up and down her thighs, marvelling again at the perfection of her willowy form. While it was true that she might not yet have the rounder hips and fuller breasts that would emerge as she came fully into womanhood, she was no less beautiful for that. It was enough that she was who she was; he couldn’t help but love every part of her.

Her eyes glinted with mischief as she looked down at him through tousled hair. “Seems I have you where I want you,” she teased, her grin shameless.

“Aye...and now that ye have, whate’er will ye do?” he answered slyly, spreading his fingers over her hips before dipping one hand between her legs to graze the moist, springy thatch of hair.

Elizabeth snatched hold of his wrist and held tight. “Why, whatever I want,” she replied boldly, shoving the offending arm away with mock disdain.

“Then I’ll run up the white flag and give meself over to yer tender mercies,” Hector crooned, lifting his hands up above his head as though in surrender. The banter was playful but the words were heavy with expectation. The smile faded from Elizabeth’s face as she realized it, mirth shifting to unabashed desire in a heartbeat.

With newfound intensity, she traced a worshipful path from his shoulders, over the firm corded muscles of his arms and down to his hands, sliding her fingers between his as she leaned in for a slow and lingering kiss. Better that she took the initiative the first time, he thought disjointedly as she bit hesitantly at his lip and then licked the small hurt away. He’d take his cues from her and not overwhelm her again.

Elizabeth nuzzled at his neck, her hot breath on his ear causing his eyes to roll up in his head. A soft groan escaped his lips as she sucked in one of his earlobes, the insistent tug of her mouth and the scrape of her teeth more stirring than he’d have thought possible. Her budded nipples slid over his chest, the tiny nubs pressing into his skin with each of her yearning sighs. As she moved, his cock slid back and forth over the cleft of her buttocks with shocking sensuality and he was left again to fight the impulse to toss her down and bury himself deeply within her silken sheath.

Tendrils of her hair fell across his face and he caught the fragrance of night blooming jasmine in her soft tresses, exotic and enticing. Their surroundings seemed to fade around them and he could almost imagine that they were alone on some tropical isle, unaffected by either time or the tragedies it had wrought.

Ah, if only that were true. Perhaps worse than the fact that he’d lost her once, Hector reflected as she lifted her head and stared at him with heavy-lidded adoration, was that he could very well lose her again. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her with desolate tenderness, finally acknowledging to himself that he’d not survive it if she was taken from him again. Nor, he knew, would he want to.

But she was his now and the need to take her – to possess her body and by the grace of the gods, her soul – became too urgent to put off any longer. “’Lizabeth,” he growled hungrily, smoothing his hands over her shoulders and the curve of her spine to knead the yielding flesh of her ass. “I must have ye; I cannot wait. I beg ye...”

Elizabeth swallowed hard and nodded her head, a faint tremor moving through her at his words. She slipped off of him and made a small whimpering sound that was part lust and part fear when she finally laid eyes upon that which jutted proudly from his loins. He moved up over her, compelling her to lie back upon the bed. As he towered above her, he could almost hear the runaway beat of her heart and some primitive aspect of his nature had him basking in the triumph of hunter over the hunted.

He wedged his knee into the tight space between her legs and spread her thighs apart. Elizabeth’s eyes widened and she clutched tightly at his forearms as though bracing herself, prompting Hector to chuckle softly in response. “Relax, me girl,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers and kissing her gently until her mouth finally softened and her hold slackened. As their kisses grew more passionate, he stroked the inside of her thighs, bedewed by her arousal and feeling like damp velvet beneath his fingers. With a shaky sigh she let her legs fall open and in doing so, laid to rest the last of her well-bred inhibitions.

When he strummed his fingers lightly through the moist thatch of hair at the crux of her thighs, she took in a shocked, shuddering breath, and snatched hold of the bedsheets on either side of her. “Oh!” she cried out, “Please!”

“Please, what?” Hector whispered against her cheek, unable to keep the knowing smile from his face. His aching erection bobbed at the sound of her desperation and he shifted restlessly on his knees.

“Please...oh, Hector! Please don’t stop,” she implored huskily, reaching between them to encircle his wrist and tilting her hips upwards to meet his touch.

“Not ‘til ye beg me fer release,” he vowed, using his own legs to suddenly shove hers even further apart. “Not ‘til ye grow hoarse from screamin’ me name in the midst of yer rapture.”

“Yes,” she gasped as he dragged his fingers over her glistening folds. Her eyes sparked with the heat of yearning. “Yes...that’s what I want.”

He dipped his head, lapping at her rose-tinted nipple until he’d teased it to a perfect point. Elizabeth squirmed beneath him as he bathed her breast with his tongue, her breath catching when he circled her opening with one finger and pressed the heel of his hand against her clit.

“Yer so wet, so beautifully slick,” Hector sighed, the words thick in his throat. There could be no question that she was ready; his fingers were coated in the luscious nectar that flowed from her quim and when he sank his finger into her up to the knuckle, her sheath squeezed tightly around him. He took her other breast in his mouth and licked, every taste of her salt-tinged flesh adding to his sweet, self-inflicted suffering.

“I feel…empty,” she breathed heavily, her body shaking as she struggled for words. “I want to have you inside...I can’t stand this ache any more. Don’t torment me...please. Don’t make me wait...”

“Wrap yer hand ‘round me,” he all but pleaded. “Guide me in...take what ye want of me. ‘Tis all fer ye.” Despite the enormity of his need, he still feared injuring her. Her hips were so slim...would she be able to withstand the brunt of his assault? Better served, she’d have been, with a man of lesser girth...

His last coherent thought vanished in the instant her fingers closed around him, and he was beyond forming the simplest of words for a time. He shivered as she lovingly fondled his fevered member, her leg curving around his hip to pull him closer. “Now,” she cooed, her brow resting against the crown of his head. “I need you now.”

“First time...” he managed to grunt as she nudged his cockhead against the slippery threshold of her body. “Only a brief hurt...when yer maidenhead is breached...”

“A moment of pain for a night full of pleasure,” Elizabeth moaned as she thrust her hips forward and engulfed the tip of his cock in the liquid heat of her channel. “It seems a small price to pay.”

He’d barely penetrated her, but the sensation was so all-encompassing that they both gasped sharply. The muscles in Hector’s arms and shoulders bunched strongly with his efforts to restrain himself as she sank her nails into his forearms, the flash of pain making him harder still.

“More…” she snarled, her teeth bared savagely as she bucked under him. “Barbossa…”

Freed by the lust and need he saw in her eyes, he hooked her leg in the bend of his elbow and spread her wide as he could, hoping it would be enough that she’d suffer no damage. He bore down slowly, pressing further in and exalting in the feeling of being firmly embraced within her warm, tender depths.

He didn’t get very far before he came upon the barrier that marked the last bastion of her virginity. Best it was to take it quickly and be done, he decided through a scarlet haze of passion – to prolong it seemed crueller by far. Hector thrust abruptly and Elizabeth hissed, her neck curving and her head sinking into the pillow at the sharp sting that marked the passing of her innocence.

Her mouth gaped slightly and her muscles quivered around him. She stiffened as she struggled to adjust to the massive intrusion into her body, a single tear trickling from the corner of her eye as she stared at him in astonishment. From the faint soreness he felt, he knew that she’d scratched long divots into his skin as he’d buried himself within her, but the pain seemed like nothing when he paused to savour each ripple of her pleasure as it flowed around him.

Before the tear could slide over her cheek, he bent and kissed it away. “The price has been paid, ‘Lizabeth Swann,” he murmured against her sweat-dotted temple, pulling out of her part way only to slowly sink back into her quivering passage. “Be ye ready to reap the rewards?”

“You’re too big!” she keened, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Even as she said it, her hips came up off of the bed to meet his next thrust and a shudder swept through her that very nearly wrested his control away.

“Nay, just the right size,” he promised softly, adjusting his position so that he’d be riding her higher, his shaft sliding over her swollen nub with every push. “I be the key to yer lock…ain’t another who fits ye so well as I.”

Hector stroked her thigh soothingly as he lunged forward, filling her again and dragging a cry of unadulterated joy from deep within her chest. Another thrust and she needed no further prompting; like the waves against the shore, she began to move with him in a gentle rhythm as ancient as the sea itself.

His balls rose tight and hard between his legs and he quickened his pace, demanding more of her. The slap of flesh against flesh grew louder, and Elizabeth clung to him, sinking her fingernails into his flank as though spurring him on. He drove himself into her over and over until at last, he felt the tell-tale flutter of her pussy around his cock.

“Look at me, ‘Lizabeth,” he demanded, cupping her chin in his hand. Her breath was laboured and it took a moment before her eyes blinked open and she focused on his face. Hector pinned her in his sights, determined that she should see for herself the emotions that filled his heart and ignited his lust.

“Hector!” she cried out, struggling to hold his gaze as she was swept up in the intensity of their joining. She fought for air and arched beneath him, caught in the rushing tide of her climax. Her hips rose and she mewled as he rocked against her, drawing out her orgasm with short, quick strokes until she came apart entirely and screamed his name.

He was trapped within her, her convulsing quim holding him so snugly that for a moment, it was impossible to move. Just as the waves of her completion slowed, he took her as brutally as he dared, groaning as he plunged hard and fast into her. When at last he was overtaken by his own pleasure, it felt like an inferno roaring up through his body and exploding outwards. Bowing over her, he came in long, straining bursts that were so euphoric he thought he might lose consciousness before he was able to fully spend himself.

They finally slumped together onto the mattress in a tangle of shaky limbs, Hector careful to ensure she wasn't pinned beneath his weight. He gathered Elizabeth close, cradling her against him as their hearts slowed and their breathing became easier again. For a while she quaked in his arms as little aftershocks of their lovemaking moved through her, and he couldn’t help but take pride in bringing her bliss of such heights that it lingered long after the act itself.

They lay in silence, content and comfortable. Elizabeth snuggled against him, resting her cheek over his heart and drawing languid circles across his chest with her fingertip. The hull of the Pearl creaked faintly as it shifted in the water, and the room grew darker as the wicks on a few of the candles burned down to the base and sputtered out.

Enveloped in the hush of the moment, Hector knew that there were words that needed saying and questions that needed asking. What kept him from speaking was the worry that he might not receive the kind of answers he wanted so badly to hear. As much as it meant to be holding Elizabeth as he was, he didn’t really have all of her…nor might he ever, he was forced to admit. And if after everything, an awareness of what they once were to one another never returned, what then? It seemed absurd to say he missed Elizabeth, still mourned her absence when she was right there beside him, but that made it no less true.

How long would he need to wait before he’d know if even the faintest spark of their love had survived? He had hope but not much more than that.

She shifted against him, sliding one of her legs between his and sighing softly before settling down again. He rested his cheek against her brow and shut his eyes. If Elizabeth never remembered and yet he could still claim her as his own, perhaps it shouldn’t matter. All they needed to do was defeat Beckett and the Company again and he could court her properly. Or as properly as a haggard old scoundrel could.

“Hector?” she murmured, her breath an airy caress of his skin.

“Mmmm?” he grunted, running his hand lazily over her hip.

She paused as though gathering enough courage to speak up. “What’s going to happen to us tomorrow?”

The fear in her voice was rare enough to capture Hector’s full attention. He wanted to tell her not to worry, that victory would be theirs the next day, but he didn’t know if that was still true or not. Enough had changed in the past few hours that the future was no longer certain. In the end, all he could give her was the truth as he knew it to be.

“I wish I could tell ye,” he said, pulling her closer to his side. “Until we see what it is we have to face, I couldn’t even venture a guess. We have skill and speed on our side, that be true – but even that might not be enough to win the day.”

“Have I doomed us all, then?” she whispered, her throat sounding tight. On the verge of tears, she was, and he knew he’d have to choose his words with care.

“We wrote our own fates, ‘Lizabeth. The kind of lives we’ve led as pirates– we ain’t owed a thing. And whether we fight tomorrow or another day, there’ll be no avoidin’ the war that Beckett has brought down upon us.” He wrapped both arms around her and hugged her gently. “But if this was our last night on earth...ah, girl, then t’was well spent.”

“And if it’s not?” she said, sniffling discretely to try and hide the fact that she had begun to cry. “Our last night, I mean?”

“Then perhaps,” Hector answered as he rolled her under him and kissed her passionately, “we’ll be celebratin’ our triumph fer many a night to come.”

Elizabeth smiled through her tears and slipped her arms around his neck, tugging the leather thong on his braid until his hair spilled free and slid over his shoulders. “Perhaps,” she agreed, wrapping his ginger locks into her hand and pulling him down for another kiss. “Perhaps...”

*****

When the sound of battle preparations awoke Hector hours later, he reached out and found that his tangled sheets were cold and empty. Elizabeth had gone.