Unforgivable

My Jack muse insisted I let him revenge himself against that naughty Miss Swann.....and who am I to argue with the Captain???

The Lesson

It was close to noon when Elizabeth finally woke, but she was in no hurry to rise from Jack’s bunk.

Instead she lay sprawled amongst the tangled blankets, remembering how he had sent her body and mind reeling with pleasure. Her thigh muscles ached, there were finger-shaped bruises on her hips and she could feel the residue of his pleasure dried on her belly and between her legs. Shifting slightly, she spotted another patch on the sheet below her and grinned.

She was just contemplating the idea of moving when the cabin door was flung wide.

“Close it!” she hissed, trying frantically to pull the blankets around herself. Jack stood grinning at her for several seconds too long before strolling forward and pushing the door very carefully closed.

“Sorry luv!” he said cheerfully – and very unconvincingly.

Elizabeth scowled at him. “Humph!”

Jack pouted. “That’s not much of a good morning…er….afternoon greeting now is it?”

He ambled to the bed and sat down with his back to her.

“Don’t sulk Jack.”

“Not sulking.”

With a sigh, she lifted her hand and tugged gently on his dreads.

“Good m – I mean, Good Afternoon Jack. "That better?”

“Mmmph.”

She sat up and wrapped both arms around his back.

“Now?”

Suddenly she found herself flat on her back again, pinned under his weight. Lowering his head he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck until he reached her mouth, where he spent several delightful minutes exploring every crevice of it with his tongue.

Finally pulling away, he gave her a feline grin.

“That, Miss Swann, is how to say Good Afternoon!”

“I’m sorry Captain Sparrow….I don’t think I heard you,” she smirked. “Could you say that again?”

Jack was happy to oblige and put his fingers and tongue to good use until Elizabeth lay trembling and breathless beneath him. Feeling him pushing against her through his breeches, hard and wanting, she reached down to free him.

To her bewilderment and horror he pushed her hand away and climbed off the bunk.

“Not now Lizzie!” he panted, his eyes dark and determined.

Elizabeth stared incredulously.

“What? Why? You can’t just….Jack please!”

But he shook his head.

“Can’t now luv. You have to get dressed.”

Jack scooped up her clothes from the floor and dropped them in her lap.

“C’mon luv. He’ll be here any minute!”

“What? He who? Jack? What on earth are you talking abo.…”

“That’ll be Captain, actually,” he interrupted, fidgeting anxiously. “Stop wasting time! C’mon Lizzie!”

He strode to the door, opened it a crack and peered out.

“NOW Lizzie!!! He’s comin’”

Scowling, Elizabeth pulled on her shirt and buttoned it.

“If this is your idea of a joke,” she spat, “Or some silly payback for my little game in the galley…”

As she picked up her breeches Jack slammed the door closed.

“Too late!” he hissed frantically. Crossing the room at a run, he caught her arm and dragged her towards his desk.

“Sit down!” he gabbled, pushing her onto the seat.

“But my breeches! I’m not decen….”

“He’ll never know if’n yer don’t get up. Savvy?”

Then dropping to his hands and knees he crawled under the desk and pulled her chair towards him.

Elizabeth bent her head to glare at him.

“Jack! What on earth are you doing?”

“Shhh! Sit up straight luv. He can’t know I’m here, right? M’hiding.”

Before she could retort someone banged enthusiastically on the cabin door.

Elizabeth gave a frightened gasp and sat up, heart hammering.

She stared in horror as the doorknob slowly began to turn and the door creaked open, ready to admit the man whose imminent arrival had sent poor Jack into such a panic.

“Afternoon Miss Swan!”

Seeing her expression of utter astonishment, Ragetti’s cheery grin faltered.

“Twas alright, Miss? To come now? Only Capt’un Sparra said if I came straight after me watch we could make a start.”

Elizabeth blinked at him.

“Ummmm…..What?”

“Aye Miss. Cap’un Sparra said ye’d teach me to write me name!”

Realization dawned. Fighting the sudden urge to drag ‘Cap’un Sparra’ from under the desk by his throat, she settled for swinging her bare foot as hard as she could.

Feeling it connect with something soft and yielding, she smiled.

“You’d better sit down then.”

Ragetti’s grin resurfaced and he slid into the seat opposite.

Elizabeth non-too carefully ripped a large corner from one of Jack’s carefully executed charts, turned it over and wrote Ragetti’s name in large letters.

“Here. That’s your name. See if you can copy it.”

As the pirate in front of her attempted to puzzle out the intricacies of pen and ink, Elizabeth’s mind was wholly occupied with the pirate who was crouched between her naked thighs. She felt horribly exposed and vulnerable – yet her traitorous body was still singing and alert from Jack’s recent ministrations.

“No!” she hissed vehemently.

Ragetti threw the pen on the desk, spattering ink across the charts.

“Sorry Miss!” he whined. “I’m tryin’ my best!”

“Oh!” frantically trying to gather her thoughts, she forced a smile. “I ...er...I wasn’t talking to you!”

Ragetti stared.

“I – I mean, I was thinking aloud! About – er - something else entirely!”

He nodded wisely, gazing at with his one good eye.

“Aye miss. I do that all the time,” he assured her.

Not wanting to elaborate on that thought, Elizabeth reached hastily for the pen.

“Hold it like this, look,” she gabbled, demonstrating.

“Right miss!”

Ragetti was delighted when Elizabeth nodded her approval at his efforts.

“Much better. Now…see if you can copy what I’ve written…”

As her unsuspecting student set to work, Elizabeth wondered hopefully if her earlier kick had knocked her infuriating lover unconscious. Every muscle quivered in anticipation of his first attack. Taking a deep breath, she carefully probed under the desk with her foot.

Even though she’d been expecting it, she jumped violently when her ankle was suddenly seized.

She glanced quickly at Ragetti. He was bent over the desk, deep in concentration, and she sighed in relief. Attempting to pull her foot away only caused the grip on it to tighten. When her other ankle was grabbed and the hands slid firmly up her calves to her knees, she took a deep breath and gritted her teeth, fighting desperately against her body’s instinctive response.

For a long, agonizing moment nothing happened. Ragetti glanced up from his endeavors and she gave him a distracted nod.

“Very good. Keep going!” she muttered, and below the desk Jack obliged.

Something feathery light was stroking along her inner thighs, the touch so delicate it was barely perceptible – yet it set her nerve ends tingling. Up one leg, across to the other then back to the first – whatever he was doing sent waves of heat coursing deliciously through her body to settle between her thighs.

Elizabeth pressed her lips tightly together and fought the urge to moan. Her muscles ached with the effort of keeping still and she scanned the mess in front of her for something to squeeze, as Jack’s neck was sadly not available.

Ah. Of course. The inevitable rum bottle, inevitably empty – but it would do. She pulled it towards her and gripped it with both hands, trying to concentrate on the murky glass instead of where those slender dirty hands were touching her now.

It was a few seconds before she realised her student was watching her curiously.

“Y’alrigh’ Miss?”

She nodded and tried to smile, knowing it was a weak effort.

Ragetti sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Are ye sure, Miss? Only….it’s a worry…what wiv the Cap’un been taken ill last night n’all…” he paused dramatically, and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Proper poorly, ‘e was….took ill in the galley…..terrible thing, terrible.”

Elizabeth did not trust herself to respond with anything other than a frown.

Ragetti looked disappointed. He leaned towards her and scowled.

“Tis the truth, Miss….Our beloved Cap’un Sparra…..’e’s a very sick man!”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to agree wholeheartedly with that statement – then Jack’s fingers brushed teasingly across her curls and she drew in a sharp breath instead.

When his hand pressed down and began to massage her there she whimpered softly.

Sensing Ragetti’s puzzlement, she managed to choke out, “That’s enough for now. We’ll continue - later.”

“No, Miss, I’m fine. Besides,” he grinned, “Cap’un said as I have to get it right. ‘E said he’d cut me rations if’n I couldn’t….”

Beneath the desk those wicked fingers played across her folds and Elizabeth’s tightened her grip on the bottle.

“I’ll….I’ll…..” she gulped, and took several deep breaths, fighting the urge to thrust her hips against Jack’s hand. “I’ll deal with the Captain.”

“Orders is orders…” Ragetti began, then stopped short at her furious glare.

He stumbled quickly to his feet and backed towards the door – then stopped.

“Thank ye miss!” he grinned, almost shyly. His good eye widened with alarm and he ducked as the empty rum bottle came sailing towards him.

Miss Swann was gasping and glaring at him in a most alarming manner. Ragetti made a swift exit, mumbling under his breath as he went about insanity and women...