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Ship in a Bottle	By : EvilE Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 4205 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 15
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Chapter 16: The Honourable Woman

Jack heard the toll of the bell from the deck, knew it was half past one. Yet he had no wish to sleep.

He sipped thoughtfully from a bottle of rum. He had controlled his intake since earlier, when thanks to Elizabeth, he'd nearly drunk enough to topple him over. But it didn't really help. Nothing helped. He was entirely on edge, eager to know how his plan was working on the Pearl, since Francois had returned in the boat and informed him that Will had been successfully delivered. He wondered what would happen after they took back the Pearl, when he was truly free. When he could do anything he wanted. The question became, what did he want?

Perhaps he'd go back to Asia, meet up with a rowdy bunch he'd known there years ago. Or perhaps a little farther south along the coast of Mexico.

Or perhaps he'd stay right where he was, in the Caribbean. Close to Tortuga. Close to Isla de Muerta, which, as he well knew, still contained a wealth of uncursed Aztec gold treasure.

Close to her. Even though, to hear her tell it, she'd never have him. Wouldn't see him. Wanted to be... honorable. He knew her restraint was hanging by a thread. And he hadn't yet decided when... or how... or if... he wanted to snip that thread, and send her tumbling back into his arms. For good, this time. No more bait-and-switch. He wanted her to admit she was his, utterly, completely, wed to Will Turner or not. Whatever happened after... that was another problem.

He set down the bottle resolutely, and rose from his chair. Perhaps it was time to settle a few things with Miss Swann. Mrs. Turner. Elizabeth. Lizzy.

And though his brain suddenly warned him that he was being unwise, his feet carried him, jauntily, out the door and down the steps to the cabin floor. It was dark in the tiny hallway. Mary, he knew, had elected to tend their prisoner in the brig. Gibbs was on deck. Will was gone. No one was near to hear or see anything. So much the better.

He paused in the act of knocking on the door of Will's cabin, where he knew her to be sleeping.

What are you doing? his conscience prodded. She's drawn her line. She'll say no.

Bugger that, Jack responded, clenching his fingers into a fist.

And if she does say no... what will you do? Take her by force?

Never had to do that before. Plenty of other ways to change a woman's mind. Oh, yes, there were lots and lots. And he knew them all.

You're going to be sorry, his practical side admonished. Oh, most assuredly, he answered it cheerfully. He extended his arm and knocked, forcefully, on the door of Will's cabin.

No answer. Perhaps he should just go back up to his cabin, and drink the rest of that rum. He took a step back.

“Who is it?” finally came the sleep-laden voice from inside.

“The bloody Commodore,” Jack declared. “Who the hell do you think?”

After a moment, the door opened a few inches, and Elizabeth peered out, looking annoyed. “What?” was all she said, and he ran his eyes over her face, her hair, which was woven into a thick braid, and her shoulders, swathed in a truly virginal white nightdress. It might have put him off, if he didn't know better. “What do you want?” she asked, with a throaty impatience that spoke of interrupted rest.

Well, she'd been interrupting his rest for quite a while, now. His lip curled and he slammed his hand against the door, forcing it open. Before she could even move out of the way or protest, he had pushed his way inside, and leaned back against the door from the inside, trapping them in the cramped cabin.

“Jack, what on earth - Leave at once. You can't be in here.”

“Can't I? I know it's a bit tight, but I rather enjoy that, don't you?”

She sighed with irritation. “Jack, it's the middle of the night. I haven't slept properly in over two days. Whatever you have to say, can't it wait till the morning?”

“No,” he said with a single, emphatic shake of his head, and moved closer to gather her into his arms. Before she could give voice to the shocked objections mounting in her eyes, he lowered his head and kissed her full on the lips, wasting no time in parting his own, entering her with his tongue and sweeping every corner of her exquisite, delicious mouth.

She groaned, once, in protest, before he felt her give in to him and respond to his kiss with equal ardor. Their mouths met and melded continuously, and he reached down to lift her against him, turning to press her back against the door of the cabin. Blood raced through his veins. The anxiety he'd felt earlier was nothing compared to the exhilaration of touching her, tasting her, having her. He felt her struggling and lifted his head away, still holding her body fast against the door.

“Jack, stop this at once,” she panted, pushing at his chest uselessly.

“Don't make me sorry I freed your mouth.”

“I'm serious! You can't just barge in here and think to ravage me on Will's bunk-”

“I hadn't thought that far yet, love, but now that you mention it, that sounds lovely.”

“Didn't you hear a word I said earlier? I said it's over between us.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, 'no'?”

“No. N,O, No.”

“Marvelous, you can spell words of two letters. But you still can't seem to comprehend bigger ones. Like 'married'.”

“I comprehend it, no worries there. But I don't care any more, you know?”

She pushed at his shoulders with her palms. “You can't simply manhandle me without my permission!”

“Oh, I'll have your permission, love, no need to worry your pretty head about that.” His voice had dropped to a smoldering, almost threatening tone.

“It's your head you should worry about, as soon as I get my hands on a sword.”

“I've got one you can play with.”

And he kissed her again, hard, lifting her up so that her legs spread around his hips and he ground himself against her, pleased to hear her moan in frustration and desire. As he continued to plunder her mouth, he slid his right hand up her thigh, inching her nightdress higher and higher until he reached the top of her thigh, and then moved his palm over to her inner thigh and reached out to cup her entire sex in his hand, breaking off the kiss to look down at her face.

All her breath escaped her body in a single breath, which Jack felt against his chin, and he smiled in satisfaction. He began to rub her with his thumb, in slow, ever-narrowing circles, and was further gratified to feel her match his rhythm with her hips, moving only slightly, but it was enough for him.

He felt her fingers dig into his shoulders as she hung on, and he bent once again to her lips, pulling them between his tenderly, as he stroked her with the pad of his thumb. He allowed a minute to pass this way, wanting her to melt in his arms, wanting to feel her lose control against his lips. When he thought her ready, he broke the kiss and opened his eyes to look at her face again.

Her head was thrown back, her loose strands of hair escaping her braid to curl around her face, which was contorted beautifully with desire. She bit her lip. Her brows were furrowed. He watched with pleasure as she twisted her head from side to side as he continued to grind his thumb against her.

“Now,” he half-whispered, half-groaned. “Do you want me to stop?”

Her only response was a soft moan.

“That's not good enough, love. Honorable women use words, don't they?” She cringed at that, but was still bound to him and what he was doing to her. “Do... you... want...” he brought his thumb across her firmly with each word “...me... to stop?”

“No,” she sighed on a low moan.

He closed his eyes in satisfaction, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. This was what he wanted, after all. Lizzy, helpless in his arms, acknowledging that she wanted him, couldn't help wanting him. Now, should he push her away and leave her, and let her know exactly what he thought of her honorable wishes... or should he lower his breeches and drive into her until they were both mindless with the pleasure of it...?

“Jack, please,” he heard her sigh, a desperate note in her voice, and he realized he still pressed his thumb against her, and he had her right on the edge, as he debated. Should he push her over, or make her beg... he was absorbed in indecision, of every kind. His pride told him to wait, to bring her down for the final time, make her completely low in front of him, destroy every shred of honorable woman that she possessed, once and for all. His own desire, hot and hungry, urged him on, telling him to forget the games, forget whatever she'd said, just take her... take her and take her until they drowned in desire and forgot their own names.

Perhaps... a compromise.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered to her, “if you don't want me to stop, then you've got to open my breeches, for me. My hands are occupied.” He waited, his thumb still pressed against the most intimate part of her, his other hand lifting her from behind, supporting her as he held her against the door. He listened to her increasingly ragged breathing, saw her turn her face to the side, knew she was fighting an inner battle. He waited a few seconds in desperate agony for her to choose, willing himself to be calm, reminding himself that he wouldn't have accomplished anything if it wasn't her choice...

Then her felt her hands leave his shoulders and move down between her legs, where he was huge and hard and nearly ready to explode beneath the rough fabric, and he knew she was plying the cloth fastenings open with her trembling fingers. He held himself completely still, moving his thumb only slightly against her, and she gasped when he did. Then she became frantic and nearly tore open his breeches, reaching in to lift him out impatiently with one of her hands, a little too quickly, trapping parts of him inside the fabric.

He flinched but did not move his hands or lose his balance, for which he awarded himself a great deal of credit. “Easy on the goods, love... for God's sake.”

“Sorry,” she breathed, and returned her fingers below to free him completely. He loved the soft touch of her fingers on him... but more of that, perhaps, in the future. For now, there was something hot and sweet and tight awaiting him, only inches away. He raised her up with both hands, but he was not quite in the right place... but close. One final task... one last victory.

“Now put me inside you,” he said in an almost teasing tone that held the slightest bit of wry condescension.

To his surprise she didn't pretend not to know what he meant, or resist in any way, only returned her hands below and grasped him, aiming his tip right into the heart of her. He grinned at her in the darkness, and rewarded her with a stroke of his thumb. She cried out, and he did so again, pushing his thumb hard against her, making sweeping strokes, and he felt her hands on the back of his neck, sliding between his pieces of hair to find his skin, her fingers dancing along his shoulder.

“Oh, God, Jack... oh god, Jack,” she cried as she began to thrash against his hand. It was music to his ears, and he knew the time was right, the moment opportune, to take her. He pulled back and then thrust his hips, carefully but solidly, toward the door, pinning her against it. When he entered her fully, he realized she was already coming, because he could feel the pressure of very slight contractions around him. It excited him more than he ever thought possible, as she groaned and sighed and kissed his neck, murmuring his name.

He was losing control already, he knew, as he drew back and slid forward again inside of her. He wouldn't be able to hold her up like this much longer... not if he couldn't stand. He had his face buried in her neck, and he didn't know what he was saying to her as he breathed a stream of words into her ear, but she must have understood how imminent his collapse was, for she pushed herself away from the door, carrying him with her. In a moment he found himself lying on his back on the bunk, and she was straddling him and riding him and he was rising to meet her hips again and again. He didn't feel the mattress against his back, or his trousers around his ankles, or her nightgown, that he'd simply raised, bunched against his waist, nor was he aware of anything save how tight and moist she was and how he loved, loved, loved the noises his Lizzy was making as she moved on top of him.

He reached up and pulled her down, flattening her upper body against his chest, firmly, as he lifted his hips one last time and then poured himself into her, whispering who knew what against her ear... it was definitely blasphemous, definitely contained her name at least once if not a hundred times, and his chest and her neck were slick with sweat by the time he could breathe again.

Then they both sighed deeply in unison, and he laughed ruefully when he heard.

“Well, I ended up being ravaged on Will's bunk after all,” Elizabeth commented in a dry tone, still catching her breath.

Jack took another breath, tried to quiet his temper. Failed. “You have a damnable habit of talking about him while I'm still in you. Quit it, why don't you?” And as he raised his head to glare at her, he added, “And I rather think you did your share of the ravaging, hm?”

She didn't argue, only climbed off of him to collapse on the bed, tugging her nightdress down. She was still attempting some modicum of modesty, he observed. What good it would do her to cover herself after what they had just done, he had no idea and never would.

“Where is Will, exactly?” she asked after a moment had passed.

“He didn't tell you?”

“He said there was a mission he had to complete. But he didn't say what it was or when he'd be back.”

“Ah.” Jack thought a moment, and decided to torment her a bit, after all, she'd had the gumption to mention him while they were still catching their breath from the most ardent lovemaking he may have ever experienced. “I sent him to Lady E.”

Elizabeth raised herself on an elbow to peer into Jack's face, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You... what?”

“I sent him to get Lady E for us. He's going to gain her trust - by whatever means necessary and available - and bring her to an island where we're going to ambush her. Simple, but ambitious. As many good plans are.” He was pleased to see her lips press together in a furious pink line, and her eyes flashed with sudden anger.

“You sent Will... alone... to the most dangerous pirate on the entire ocean?”

“Not just this ocean. All the oceans. Ours too, I'd imagine.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side, raising his breeches and fastening them, facing away from her, as he spoke. “Don't worry, love, Will's got his charm and his bravery, he'll do well.”

He turned to see Elizabeth raising herself on her knees, all the while developing a truly furious expression on her face. Her cheeks went first white, then red, and he was immensely pleased to see that she'd had no knowledge of any of what Will would be expected to do until right this very moment. Smart Will... what she doesn't know can't hurt you.

Except that he'd just ruined that. But that was fine, too.

“You... you... he...” Elizabeth sputtered, angrier than he'd ever seen her. Not yet coldly furious, he noticed, but still in the shock phase. It would pass, he knew. Pass on to something murderous. He made plans to extract himself from her cabin, moving toward the door. But she rose and followed, and when he opened it, she blocked his path, glaring at him hotly, still seeming to search for words. He grew tired of waiting and spoke instead.

“Why are you so very angry, hm? Will wanted to do it. Or maybe... that's it, isn't it? You don't get jealous when it's your choice - like when you shared him with Mary - but when it's his choice, that rankles, don't it?” He saw her eyes ready to pop of her sockets, and he reminded himself her temper was dangerous, but couldn't resist pushing her one step farther, one step closer to the real truth of him and her and Will. He leaned closer to say almost against her lips, “Why don't you quit cuckolding him, if you care about him so much? Give it up. Run away with me, we'll go hunt treasure on the Pearl, and dear Will can find someone else who really loves him. Someone like Mary, perh-“

And that was as far as he got before the room seemed to go instantly black, and he realized after a moment she'd hit him so hard across the face that his eyes were nearly against the door. Ah, there it was... murderous rage. As the pain in his cheek and jaw registered, he also felt slightly comforted to know that he had predicted her reaction so well.

“Get out,” she said in a controlled, fierce whisper. “You're not fit to kiss his boots, you...you dirty... old... pirate.”

He wanted to laugh, since he'd been called a lot of things before, things that rolled off his back and never stuck, but she'd seized upon two things that she knew would bother him. His age... which he felt more when he was next to her, since she was so young and he was nearly old enough to have fathered her... and the way she said pirate was not affectionate, not romantic or teasing like before. Instead, it sounded disgusting and dark as tar. Which apparently was how she saw him, as well, given the 'dirty' part of it.

For a moment he wondered if he'd pushed her too far, and realized what he'd really been saying... for the first time, he allowed the possibility to escape his lips that he could offer her more than just trysts on the ship and a taste of adventure and pleasure, but something else, the pursuit of something great, together... and she'd totally, thoroughly rejected it. Which was to be expected, really. After all, she was still a gently bred lady, and he was a pirate. Whatever that meant.

He moved her aside with a sweep of his forearm and exited quickly, slamming the door as he pulled it shut behind him. He told himself that he was gratified to hear a sob from the other side, and steeled himself once more when he heard her burst into tears.

Well, at least one part of his worries had been settled tonight. He knew where he would go when he got back the Pearl.

Far, far away from Elizabeth, and everything she represented that he couldn't have. Everything she robbed him of. His ability to think clearly... his emotional control... his sanity. Yes, he would get as far away as possible, and then he'd go back to being the same old Captain Jack Sparrow.

He walked, somewhat unsteadily, down the narrow, cramped hallway.
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Ship in a Bottle