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GOOD BOYS GET THE MOST GIFTS Author: Ebony Disclaimer: These crumble away a part of my soul every time, I swear. I do not own Jack. Or any of the others from PotC, either. Woe and weeping! Summary: Jack has ill recollections about Christmas, but he tolerated it last year for you. Deciding that it wouldn’t do for him to scorn a holiday as lovely as Christmas, you’re determined to create fonder memories for him... (Set Post-NQG) Dedication: For Lady Anaranë, who put this idea in my head by requesting a drabble over at my lj. It grew into being a bit longer than a drabble, though! Hope this is satisfactory, luv. :) Author's Note: Although NQG is not yet finished, this piece still takes place some odd months after it. Worry not, it really makes no difference whatsoever, this is mainly just smut. XD * * * * * “This is such a nice time of the year,” you remark aloud with a cheery smile, glancing sideways at Gibbs who’s sitting on the bench next to you. “Isn’t it a nice time?” Gibbs gulps down a mouthful of ale from his tankard. “Aye, with the folk gettin’ in the spirit of things and all,” he replies wryly after setting his drink down, nodding his head toward a small brawl on the other side of the Faithful Bride just as one of the men involved smashes another with a chair. “I really love Christmas, always have,” you go on, ignoring Gibbs' sarcasm. “Even if after father’s death it wasn’t quite as enjoyable… but last year was wonderful,” you add warmly, remembering the red butterfly hairclip Jack had given you. It was safely stored away in your sea chest in Jack’s – Jack’s and yours, it was still sometimes hard to remember that – quarters. “Oh, that reminds me, I still have to get Jack a present…” you trail off, frowning in thought. “Jack would probably tell you not to bother yourself with that. He doesn’t like Christmas,” Gibbs comments idly, taking another gulp of ale. Your eyes widen in shock, and you turn your head to regard Gibbs. “What?!” Gibbs swallows thickly, blinking as he realizes his words. Setting the mug down, he nods carefully in affirmation. “It’s true, Byrne. Jack doesn’t like Christmas.” “But…” you stammer. “But that’s ridiculous, how can anyone not like Christmas? How can Jack not like Christmas? Moreover–” “Because that’s the night his mutiny took place,” Gibbs cuts you off, fixing you with a solemn gaze. “Barbossa took his ship and left him to die on Christmas Eve, and ever since then, Christmas hasn’t been in his favour. Has too many bad memories for ‘im.” You stare at Gibbs in silence, dismayed by his words. A twinge of pain twists at your heart at the thought of Jack being stuck on that island – on Christmas Eve of all nights! – alone and more likely that not, badly beaten, while you enjoyed the atmosphere of warmth and affection aboard the Wraith with your father. “This is terrible!” you exclaim, finally regaining your voice. A myriad of emotions spin within you, sadness and disappointment being the strongest ones. You speak up quietly, almost to yourself, “Why didn’t he say anything last year…?” “Touchy topic, no doubt,” Gibbs offers in subdued manner, gazing at you. “I’m also thinking he didn’t wish to spoil things for you, with you being so keen on havin’ that party.” Disheartened, you let your posture slump slightly. You remember how reluctant Jack was being at first about your idea to throw the little Christmas get-together. He had caved in eventually, and had been pretty good sport about it, as well. But never, ever, had he given even a hint of disliking the holiday. You knew of Anamaria’s resentment over Christmas, having heard the sad story from Jack while strolling about the marketplace in Curaçao with him, but this… this was unbelievable. Why hadn’t he said anything? “This is terrible,” you say again in a whisper. “Now, don’t do that,” Gibbs consoles almost paternally. “Jack wouldn’t like to see you so downcast over this. Much like he isn’t going to like me letting you know about this in the first place,” he adds dryly. You manage a small chuckle. “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with him,” you reply, sighing. “…I’m still going to get him a present, though, no matter what he says.” Gibbs chuckles. “That’s more like the Byrne we all know,” he remarks merrily, polishing off the rest of his ale. “I reckon we should be headin’ back, already.” “Ah, yes, no need to linger now that you’ve had your free drink,” you laugh, shaking your head. Gibbs just shrugs his shoulders in response, but not without a small grin. You and Gibbs had been running an errand in the fine town of Tortuga, and on the return trip, you’d suggested drinks at the Bride before heading back to the Pearl. Gibbs had been hesitant at first, but wondrously enough changed his mind the moment you told him you’d offer the round; after all, Christmas was all about giving. “Very well, then,” you conclude, rolling your shoulders slightly while getting up from the bench. “We’ll go. I need to have a word with Jack, in any case.” Gibbs narrows his eyes, staring you a tad suspiciously. Yet, there’s an edge of amusement in his gruff tone. “Going to give him an inquisition, are you?” You lift your brows innocently, giving the quartermaster a guileless look. “You really believe I would do such a thing?” you ask, the impish grin spreading to your lips effectively demolishing all thought of your blamelessness. * * * Jack shifts his pensive gaze off of the parchment in his hand for long enough to take in your determined expression as you barge in the quarters unannounced, mentally bracing himself for whatever it was that would surely follow any moment. Jack had learned that when you set your mind on something, it was usually for the best to just go along with it until you either lost interest or gave up. Both were uncommon occurrences, though. “Something utterly terrible has happened, Jack,” you announce as you pause a few feet away from the man you love, crossing your arms across your chest. “And what way of greeting is that, luv?” Jack asks lazily without lifting his gaze from the parchment, amused lilt in his voice. He knew very well that he was deliberately baiting you, but sometimes the urge just grew all too strong to resist. You sigh long-sufferingly, your tone sarcastic as you reply, “Good afternoon, love of my life. I missed you each and every moment I was away from your side, oh my brave Captain.” “I rather liked that,” Jack comments with an impudent grin, and you roll your eyes, smothering a smile. You stare at Jack expectantly, but as he still shows no signs of making any enquiry as to what you were talking about a moment ago, you clear your throat meaningfully. Finally, Jack lifts his head and looks at you in the eyes, a questioning look on his face. “Something amiss?” “I wonder why I sometimes get the strangest feeling you’re not really listening to me,” you say dryly. “I cannot imagine,” Jack returns glibly with a smirk. You just arch an eyebrow in response. “Alright then,” Jack goes on after a moment, setting aside the parchment and gazing at you attentively. “What is it that troubles you? Tell ol’ Jack all about it.” “I happened to hear from a reliable source,” you begin, pausing for a second, “That a certain Captain Sparrow actually dislikes Christmas for obvious reasons, and has failed to inform his best friend about this. Now the said friend is wondering why this is so.” Jack’s eyes narrow a fraction as he gives a short, pensive hum from his throat. “And would this reliable source happen to be a bit on the portly side and own an impressive pair of sideburns?” he asks in low tone. “The outer appearance of my source is very much irrelevant at this point,” you counter. “Not to me,” Jack replies tightly, obviously not amused. “Jack, why didn’t you say anything last year?” you beseech directly, growing tired of skirting around the actual issue that has been bothering you ever since Gibbs’ little revelation. Jack gazes at you for a moment in contemplative silence, his head tilted to the side just the slightest bit. “And what would that have accomplished, I wonder?” he at last questions softly, dark eyes intense as they hold yours. “Last year, you had enough of your own burdens to bear as it was. I had no desire to trouble you further with mine. And I still don’t.” “It doesn’t trouble me if it has something to do with you, it never could,” you reply quietly with a small frown, unable to ward off the hurt that creeps in your tone, mostly caused by the four last words of his. Wasn’t it what people did in a relationship, share their bothers with one another? “You know I’d give a lot to ease your troubles if you’d just let me.” Catching the hurt in your voice, Jack reaches out with his hands and draws your closer by your elbows, closing the few feet of space between your bodies. His slips his hands around you, palms settling over the small of your back as he presses his lips gently against your brow. “I know,” he murmurs soothingly against your skin, confirming your claim. His tone takes on an amused tinge as he goes on, “You, on the other hand, should know that was not what I meant. Don’t misunderstand me, darling.” You know him to be right in that, although admitting it is another thing entirely; you rarely admit to being wrong. Responding to Jack’s closeness almost instinctively, your arms fall from your chest and slip inside his coat, mimicking his pose and curling around his waist under the weathered fabric, your fingers intertwining against his back. “Alright, I admit it. I’m wrong and you’re right about that,” you sigh, finally relenting. Jack smirks, tilting his face downward and leaning his forehead against yours, remarking lightly, “Now, that’s a rare occasion. I’ll have to remember this.” “But,” you stress, continuing after a beat, “That still doesn’t explain why you kept this from me last year.” “Is it not obvious, already?” Jack asks, his warm breath dancing across your lips. “No,” you persist, your soft tone erasing none of the stubbornness behind the word. Jack sighs, pulling back a little and allowing his eyes to trace your features. “Last year…” he starts but quietens soon after, shaking his head almost imperceptibly, a contemplative look in his dark orbs as they slowly rove across your face. “Last year, you were… torn, I suppose. You were mostly in high spirits, but the sadness was there, lying right beneath it all. You probably have sat there on the steps brooding all evening had I not taken your mind off of it.” “Would not had,” you object with feeble indignation, the tiniest smile tugging at your lips despite the topic. “Yes, you would have, and we both know it,” Jack answers wryly. “Which brings us right to the point. Luv, you have this peculiarity in your character that can be quite frustrating: you tend to take the troubles of those you care about onto yourself. Therefore, telling you about the date in which the mutiny took place would have, in all likeliness, only added to your gloom.” His russet eyes hold yours intently as he murmurs, “Call me what you like, but I wasn’t going to let that happen.” You blink slowly, your breathing suddenly feeling oddly awkward as you mull over Jack’s words in your head. Your lips part as if to speak, but no sound comes out; you’re too overwhelmed with emotions to be able to dress them into words. Jack gives you one of his rare smiles, gazing down at you with a good-humoured glint in his eyes. “Are you truly left speechless? Yet another notable occasion during this conversation.” Your shoulders quiver slightly from quiet laugh at that. “You still manage to surprise me every so often,” you get out, your voice slightly uneven from emotion. Chuckling, a deep, melodious sound you never grow tired of listening, Jack circles his arms tighter about your frame and draws you closer still, your front pressing flush against his. “’Course I do,” he grins, that distinctive self-confidence evident in his low tone as he leans in to brush his lips tantalizingly against yours as he whispers, “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow, after all… savvy?” The corner of your mouth pulls up to a grin of your own as you reply impishly, “Oh, I savvy that indeed.” A shiver runs through your body as Jack claims your lips with his, kissing you hungrily. His tongue strokes your lower lip and you part them willingly, granting him the access he’s entreating for. He slides one hand up your back, palm coming up to cradle your neck and hold you to him as he deepens the kiss, your tongues meeting and caressing most sweetly. Your heartbeat quickens at the taste of him, the most intoxicating of feelings and sensations coursing through your mind and body. Jack could make you feel so much and so intensely it almost scared you - almost. As always, his closeness ignites a fiery yearning within you to be closer still, as close as only lovers could be, his touch erasing all other thought from your mind apart from him. A small, throaty noise of approval escapes you as Jack sucks on your lower lip lightly before parting from you, the quick twinge of disappointment that runs through you soon giving way to a distinctive longing for more. “I’m having a thought, here,” Jack drawls huskily, sliding his palm down from your neck and tracing his forefinger slowly along the skin. “Why don’t I go lock the door…” his fingertip trails a languid path past the base of your throat, journeying downward along the patch of skin the neckline of your shirt leaves bare, halting just before the swell of your breasts. “While you get rid of all this bothersome amount of fabric around your fine body, hm?” A languorous smile spreads to your lips as you think of it, knowing the idea is overly tempting… however, another idea is forming in your head, one that’ll hopefully get Jack to think more positively about Christmas and still have the similar end result as Jack’s proposition. After all; if Jack had ill memories about Christmas, what else was there to do but to create new, far more pleasing ones? It simply did not do that Jack was robbed of all appreciation for a holiday as lovely as Christmas! The familiar spark of determination begins burning in the back of your mind. Jack would yet come to love Christmas by the time you were done with him. But, first things first and business before pleasure… as exasperating as that idea was at the moment. “That is a very lovely idea, and normally I’d have no objections,” you reply with a smile, drawing your arms away from his waist, even if reluctantly. “But I really need to go back in the town and get a few things. I completely forgot all about them after I heard about this…” you pause, twirling your forefinger idly in circles as you search for a correct word. “Issue.” Jack blinks, probably wondering if he heard you correctly. “Back? Now?” “Aye, now,” you nod with a grin, patting his chest with one hand and giving him a quick peck on the lips, hastily pulling away before Jack manages to deepen it into a real kiss, as is his wont to do – allowing him to do that would wholly crumble your already weakened fortitude and entirely obliterate your plan for the evening. “Don’t worry,” you reassure Jack with a mischievous smile, “Hold that thought until I get back. Ta, luv.” With that, you squirm away from Jack’s arms (something you never thought you’d do) and quickly stride out of the quarters, leaving Jack alone for the time being. Staring at the closed doors that you’d just exited through, Jack thought back on the conversation, wondering if that’d really happened. It wasn’t very nice to tease a man in such a way, to turn him down after first getting him in the mood. It wasn’t nice, indeed, but he could be patient. “Bloody minx,” he muttered to himself, but a fond grin tugged at his lips. * * * The evening was already beginning to dim as you make your way back to the Pearl, the town of Tortuga gearing up for the night’s activities, the streets rowdy and noisy. It had taken you hours, but finally you had Christmas presents to your closest friends. Searching for Jack’s had been slightly problematic. You had really no idea what to get him, seeing as he already seemed to have everything he thinks precious. Nevertheless, you’d finally found the perfect gift in a little shoppe that dealed with all sorts of goods, the item now resting safely on the bottom of your pocket. Reaching the ship, you soon came across Anamaria and gave her the book you knew she’d been interested for a while already, but probably wouldn’t “waste” her money on. The mulatto woman had given you a wry look and a slight rebuke about frittering your pay on such things, just as you had expected her to. You’d just smiled, wished her a merry Christmas and given her a hug, which she did tentatively return after a few moments of standing stiff and rigidly straight like a ramrod. You’d caught her muttering something about daft people under her breath, but had let it slide, knowing she didn’t really mean it. Anamaria still could care less about Christmas, but you appreciated the fact that she still allowed you to take joy in it. Upon asking, you’d learned from Anamaria that Jack was currently below deck, as was Gibbs. Deciding that Gibbs could get his bottle of spirit later, you’d quickly slinked off and in to the quarters you shared with Jack. That was only moments before you dropped on your knees before the sturdy sea chest on the floor, pushing open the heavy lid. Everything you owned was in it; your clothes piled neatly on one side, whereas other assorted junk filled the opposite side. Reaching down, you pick up a small, wooden box from the trunk, placing it over your thighs and opening the lid. What little actual valuables you own were inside the box, like your few rings and bracelets. Others held more of a sentimental value, like the red hairclip shaped like a butterfly Jack gave you last Christmas. It is a mere trinket, but it was still one of the most important items you own. Satisfied, you choose the hairclip from the box and close it, placing it back inside the chest. Slamming shut the chest with a dull thud, you get up from the floor and stand up straight, the butterfly on your palm. Quickly, you let down your hair from the messy ponytail you’d tied it into while in Tortuga and attach the clip to sit upon your head, pinning back a few loose stands of hair from your temple with it. You know Jack liked it immensely when your hair was down, especially now that it had grown in length just a bit. You would like to shorten it a little, but Jack had been adamantly against it. So, you’d let him have it his way; for the moment, at least. Now what? You ask yourself, glancing about the quarters. It was already getting darker outside, and there had been a few candles lit here and there about the spacious cabin when you’d arrived a moment ago, and you briefly contemplate on lighting some more. Eventually you decide against it, deeming the soft, flickering light of the handful of candles to be enough. That solved, you cast a critical eye down at yourself. Your well-worn, dark breeches and the slightly frayed, yet extremely comfortable, fawn shirt weren’t a very alluring sight, to be sure. Sliding your pondering gaze upon the bed, the light sheets on it still rumpled (neither you nor Jack were very good at making the bed in the mornings), you smirk to yourself. Problem solved. Kicking off your dark brown boots under the bed and unbuckling your belt, you stagger next to the bedside while unbuttoning your shirt, glancing over to the entrance of the quarters out of habit before throwing off your shirt, the cool air hitting your bare skin and raising fleeting gooseflesh on your arms. With deft fingers, you untie the drawstrings of your breeches and slide them down your legs, pushing the pile of discarded clothing aside with your foot. Sudden noises behind the doors – footsteps, to be precise – cause your breath to catch in your throat. Quickly, you snatch one of the white sheets from the bed, wrapping it around your bare body once; you knew nobody else but Jack would enter by themselves into the Captain’s quarters, but one never knew if someone was with Jack. You certainly hope not. Placing one hand casually on your waist while holding the sheet to you with the other, you stand by the bed facing the entrance, and wait. Only then do you remember that Jack’s present is still in the pocket of your breeches, and your breeches lie in a crumpled heap somewhere on the floor. Cursing aloud, you think for a second to dash over and fetch it, but that’s when one of the doors is opened and you freeze to where you’re standing. The wide-eyed look of surprise that crosses Jack’s face the moment he steps inside and sets his eyes on you makes a mischievous, pleased smile to spread on your lips. The stunned look of his is, however, quickly replaced with a slow smirk as he shuts the door in his wake, never taking his eyes off of your form. “And what have we here?” he drawls in low tone, a peculiar glint in his eyes as he begins to slowly make his way towards you. “If this is my Christmas present, I must say this is a marvellous choice, luv.” You give a feline smile but stay silent, watching intently as Jack walks closer to you, his eyes raking shamelessly over your sheet-clad body. He stops so close you think you can almost feel the heat of his body upon yours. Lifting his hand, he grazes his finger along the skin of your chest, just above the edge of the sheet that covers your breasts. You swallow as a shiver runs down your spine at the touch, your eyes finding his darkened ones as he asks huskily, a wicked smirk playing about his lips, “Can I unwrap this already?” “That depends on whether or not you can behave,” you smirk. “Oh, believe me, I can be a very good boy,” Jack assures, his finger dipping lower, now trailing down upon the soft swell of your right breast; the thin sheet in between your skin and his might as well not be there in the first place for all the good it does. You push his questing hand away before his finger reaches your nipple, the hardened peak already straining against the sheet in anticipation of his touch. “I’ll be the judge of that,” you reply amusedly; Jack is hardly a ‘boy’, in your opinion. “You don’t need this tonight,” you go on pensively, taking off his hat with your free hand and chucking it on the floor – for once, Jack doesn’t comment on the mistreating of the piece of leather. “Nor this,” you flick your finger against the wide belt from which his cutlass hangs from, “This too must go,” you draw one finger down the front of his coat. “Take them off.” Jack raises a brow, a sly smirk on his lips. Nevertheless, he complies without a word, his cutlass falling on the floorboards with a metallic clang, his coat following soon after. His eyes, intense but playful, never leave yours. “Better?” “Mmhmm,” you hum, starting to really enjoy this little game. “But not good enough. This here is useless in this battle,” you murmur, tapping a finger lightly against the handle of his trusty pistol, tucked in the sash about his waist. “It’s not as if I will hurt you.” “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, darling,” he says in low tone as the pistol falls on the floor to join the cutlass. A few moments later, the buckle of his belt hits the floor with a loud noise, and you raise your brows approvingly at him as he starts to undo the knot of the sash. “Did I forgot to mention I catch on quickly?” he grins impishly. “Aren’t you just full of surprises, Captain Sparrow,” you purr, deliberately lowering your tone. “This, as well,” you fleetingly draw your hand along the long vest where it falls over the top of his thigh, intentionally pushing just a little firmer as opposed to the light touches you’ve kept to so far – a smirk tugs at your lips as you watch Jack clench his jaw in response to your touch. You know you’re playing with fire, but you’re also more and more encouraged to continue with your little role as Jack keeps on submitting to your whims, the very thought of his strong and typically dominant man allowing you to take charge now exciting you more than you thought possible. Smothering an elated grin, you step back a little allow yourself the best view as Jack gets rid of the vest. Jack watched you closely as he removed his vest, noticing how your eyes had darkened and your red lips parted slightly, a faint blush coloured your cheeks and chest. You couldn’t had looked more lovely to him, with your hair loose about your shoulders, the sheet clinging to the shape of your body; he was excruciatingly aware of the way your hardened nipples stood out against the fabric and the tempting curve of your hip and waist. God, you were beautiful. Beautiful and all his. Standing before you now only in his breeches, boots and shirt, Jack levels you with a look, as if daring you to go on. You’re not about to disappoint him. “Well?” you question, raising a brow and smirking. “Keep going.” Jack says nothing, but his smirk is smug and sly, born out of arrogant understanding of having what you want and being fully aware of just how much you do want it. Slowly, almost lethargically, Jack pulls his shirt off, deliberately teasing you with taking his time. Your eyes rove eagerly across the revealed skin of his chest, the flickering candlelight dancing upon the bronzed flesh most beautifully. His muscles flex in time with his movements as he discards the shirt carelessly, and your palms positively itch to slide them over each and every one. Wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue, you eventually drag your gaze back up to meet Jack’s, finding him watching you with smouldering eyes. Small but downright wicked smile curls at Jack’s lip as he suddenly drops his hand to the waistline of his breeches, long fingers grabbing the drawstring and beginning to pull at it ever so slightly. “Go on?” he purrs questioningly. Your breath catches in your throat at the blatantly sensual sight, your eyes drawn to the trail of black hair leading down from his navel and disappearing under the waistline. His elegant fingers are still pulling at the string, torturously slowly, and for a moment you want nothing more than to let him pull it all the way through. That’s when you understand Jack has successfully turned this teasing game around on you, and that was certainly not the way this was supposed to go. You would be the one setting the rules tonight. Taking a deep breath, you struggle to cool the fiery burning of your desire. Smiling mischievously, you slowly take a few steps ahead, closing the distance between you until he’s within an arm’s reach. “Not yet,” you drawl, brushing his hand away. “I have other plans for now.” “And what might those be?” Jack murmurs, taking advantage of your proximity and placing his palm on your waist, gently kneading the skin through the sheet. “You’ll find out soon enough,” you purr, grazing your fingers provokingly against his crotch, eliciting a grunt of surprise and pleasure from Jack. Before he gets to retaliate, you step away from his reach again, despite the fact that you instantly miss the warmth of his hand at your waist. “Come over here,” you say softly as you see the bed beside you from peripheral vision, crooking a finger at him. Jack slants his head to the side a bit, raising a brow. “Come over here, what?” You sigh, giving him a wry look. You would not be the one begging tonight! …At least not yet. “I said…” you begin in low tone, reaching down with your free hand and sliding the sheet aside enough to reveal your right leg all the way up to the top of your thigh, the sheet pooling down to the floor just at the juncture and covering the rest of you. To tease him further, you extend the leg slightly to the side to be certain he sees the limb entirely, “Come over here.” Jack’s gaze is drawn to your bare inner thigh, drinking in the sight of the candlelight painting the skin golden with darkening eyes. You notice his breathing has quickened ever so slightly as your eyes wander upon the planes of his smooth chest, lingering on the bullet wound scars. God, you want to touch him so badly you almost ache inside, but you’re equally determined to see this battle of the wills through. Slipping the hand from the sheet over to your thigh, you brush your fingers lightly along the sensitive inside, hoping to break his resolve to stay still. “This isn’t nearly as fun alone,” you croon, surprised at how breathless your own voice suddenly sounds. A growl-like noise rumbles from Jack’s throat and he clenches his jaw hard as he watches your fingers draw a path upon your skin. Uttering a curse under his breath, he strides forward, eyes ablaze with reckless passion. Your hand flies from your thigh to splay against his stomach as he reaches you, halting him from coming closer – the feel of his warm skin and hard muscles beneath your palm send a shiver through you, your breathing quickening at the desire in his eyes as he stares down at you, his hands caring little of your stipulation of keeping his distance; the right finds your waist again while the left one makes you draw in a sharp breath as it lands on your bare thigh, sliding along the skin. “No, no,” you chide, pulling your hand from his stomach and grabbing the wrist of his left hand, pushing away his caressing hand that’s wreaking havoc on your senses. “Oh, yes,” Jack counters in rough tone, snaking his right hand around your waist while you’re preoccupied with the left, making you gasp as he suddenly pulls your front flush against his, feeling the heat of his flesh against yours through the thin sheet. His lips crash against yours quicker than you comprehend, kissing your with hungry fervour. The impetus of the forceful movement upsets your balance and you fall against Jack, tumbling you both off balance; Jack collapses on his back on the bed with you on top of him. The little tumble never breaks the feverish kiss, however. Forcefully teasing your lips apart, Jack’s tongue plunders your mouth almost aggressively, his left hand grasping your hip. Desire shoots through you as your tongue tastes his, the feel of his strong body underneath yours causing your mind to go hazy with want. Tangling one hand in his long hair, you moan in the kiss as Jack’s hand slides down your back to settle over your buttock, kneading the soft flesh and pushing you firmer against him. Pulling at your lower lip gently with his teeth, Jack breaks the kiss after a moment, both of you breathing hard. You smile down at Jack, finding the messy way his dark locks and bead strings are sprawled about the bed to be utterly charming. “I was going to tell you to sit on the bed, but this works fine as well,” you murmur to him, grinning as you start to shimmy down his body, the sheet hampering the task slightly. “Luv?” Jack questions with a puzzled edge to his tone as you drop back on the floor, settling between his legs that are dangling over the edge of the bed from the knee down. Jack lifts himself up to lean back on his elbows, gazing at you with intense eyes. “What’re you doing…?” he asks softly, eyeing your position as you trail one hand down his leg. Privately, he had an idea, but wasn’t certain if you had the same one. You give Jack an innocent look. “Taking of your boots, of course,” you smile widely, knowing very well he had something different in mind, thanks to you position. Teasingly, you tie a little knot on the sheet to hold it up when you let go of it, leaving both of your hands free. Sliding your hands down his thighs, you hold his gaze as you slip them down his knees, pulling off one boot and then the other, ghosting your fingers over his ankles and trailing them up along his calves, feeling the muscles twitch slightly under your light touch. Smirking smugly at him, you stand up between his legs and lift first one knee on the bed beside his body, and then another, straddling his thighs and smiling down at him superiorly. Jack grins lazily at the turn of events, his hands cupping your waist. “Was this your plan, then?” You stretch your arms straight, sliding your hands over the mattress on either side of Jack’s head as you lean your torso down, whispering with a smile against his lips, “Perhaps.” You kiss him lightly but pull away before he deepens it, trailing your lips down the side of his neck and planting small kisses upon the skin. Jack removes one hand from your waist and tangles it in your hair, lifting his chin as you kiss his throat, allowing you better access. You flicker your tongue to against his Adam’s apple before kissing down this throat softly, inhaling the scent of his skin. Jack’s hand on your waist tugs at the sheet, so carefully you nearly miss it at first. Grinning against his flesh, you grind your hips lightly against his, drawing a groan from the pirate and causing his fingers to clutch your waist harder. “None of that yet,” you singsong, lifting your head up a little to look at him in the eyes, clouded by lust. “I want to see you,” he murmurs throatily, looking at you intensely. “All of you.” His deepened tone sends a chill down your spine, but you stand your ground. “All in good time,” you reply, smirking a little before returning your attention to his skin, brushing your lips against one of the round scars on his chest, eliciting a small purr of approval from Jack. Encouraged, you whirl the tip of your tongue upon the scar, rewarded by Jack’s sharp intake of breath, knowing his skin is particularly sensitive right there. Planting small kisses on his warm, soft skin, you trail a path down to his nipple, surprising Jack by capturing it between your lips and flicking your tongue over it. The delicious moan from Jack sends a wave of heat through you, his fingers weaving through your hair to the back of your neck. Releasing the nub, you lift your head and treat its twin with similar affection. Jack’s fingers curled tighter about your hip, thinking he was close to losing his mind soon. Your soft lips were branding his skin as surely as the hot iron did his wrist years ago. Both were causing excruciating agony, only drastically different kinds. Jack felt another wave of desire wash through his body as you started to trail those wonderful lips down his stomach, the beautiful hair tumbling down your shoulders and brushing against his skin teasingly adding to the effect. He wanted you so much, wanted so badly to hold your soft body to him and hear your soft moans of pleasure as your bodies became one. But he would rein his own desires for as long as he possibly could, respecting your want to have the upper hand. He had no objections to that… position, but this teasing was slowly driving him insane. Rising on your knees, you gently nip at the skin of his stomach with your teeth, feeling the muscle underneath tighten briefly, Jack’s both hands now alternatively weaving through your hair or caressing the column of your neck. Soothing the spot with you lips, you trace a languid trail southward, caressing his skin with your lips and tongue while your hands stroke his sides, moving down his beautiful body until you reach his navel. Sliding down from the bed, you regain your previous location between Jack’s legs, hands resting on his thighs. Blowing softly upon the small dip of his navel, you smile as Jack’s body tenses. Following the line of hair leading down, you eye the prominent swelling under the fabric of his breeches, pulling your lip between your teeth in thought. Uncertainty soon gives way, though, as a sudden spark of mischievousness prompts you to lean down and press your lips against the bulge. “Christ, luv!” Jack gasps hoarsely, his fingers curling in your hair convulsively. You laugh throatily, lifting a hand to stroke your finger over it and drawing forth a groan from Jack. Smiling wickedly, you grab the drawstring and tug on it carefully, slowly working loose the bindings. Rising himself up on his elbows, Jack follows your actions keenly, flickering his gaze from your hand to your eyes and raising a brow in a wordless dare. You smirk, wedging your palms under the waistline, over his hipbones. Obediently, Jack lifts his hips from the bed slightly, and you slide the breeches down, over his slim hips and down his strong thighs, discarding them entirely. You swallow thickly, wetting your dry lips with your tongue as you sit back on the floor and stare at Jack, naked as the day he was born. You cannot help but to marvel at the sight, the soft candlelight complimenting his tanned skin. The pirate himself is smirking smugly at you, leaning back on his elbows and giving every impression of being utterly unconcerned about his state of undress. The smirk vanishes from his lips after a moment, however, the fiery gleam returning in his dark eyes as he sits up straight on the edge of the bed, his gaze intently fixed upon you. “Stand up,” he commands huskily, and despite your original plans, you find yourself obeying almost instinctively and standing between his knees sooner than you realize. Jack’s hands grab the sheet at your waist, giving it one, sharp yank. The knot comes undone and the sheet slides down your body, fluttering in a heap on the floorboards. The cool air and the heat of Jack’s gaze on your bare body send a shudder through you, your nipples tightening. “You’re beautiful,” Jack murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close, nuzzling his face against your belly, lips brushing against your skin as he whispers almost inaudibly, “Perfect...” You close your eyes as you sink your fingers in his hair, his lips kissing your stomach like you did his a moment ago, his hands fluttering slowly down your back to your buttocks, kneading gently, before journeying downward still, caressing the backs of your thighs. A quiet whimper escapes you as they slide over to the other side, roaming over to the sensitive skin of the inner thighs. Your breathing quickens as Jack strokes the soft length of them, heady sensations simmering deep within your abdomen as his hands come so close to where you’re already aching for him, but do not touch. At the moment, you crave nothing as much as the touch of his skin against yours, more wholly than just his hands. Untangling your hands from Jack’s hair, you rest them on his shoulders while bending your knee, placing it on the edge of the bed beside Jack’s thigh. Quickly coming to understand your plight, Jack slides his hands up from your thighs and gently grasps your waist, supporting and pulling you to him at the same time. Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you lift your other knee upon the soft bed as well, straddling Jack’s thighs again – this time without obtrusive clothing of any sort. Your gratified moans mingle as your bodies press against one another, your lips meeting soon after in a heated kiss of passion and adoration. Jack’s hands slid down to your hips, painstakingly caressing the feminine swell of flesh before stroking back up your waist and along your sides, feeling you shiver in pleasure under his touch. He couldn’t get enough of you, of your taste, of your scent, of the way you felt in his arms. A rush of proud possessiveness washed through him at the thought of you belonging only to him, that he was the only one allowed to touch you like this and see you like this. Instinctively, Jack tightened his hold on you, drew you closer still, deepening the kiss feverishly. You gasp sharply against his lips as Jack suddenly pulls you closer, his hardness pressing hotly against your abdomen. Heat pools between your thighs, the pulsing yearning within you intensifying at the contact. Breaking away, Jack nuzzles the skin of your throat, his laboured breath puffing warmly against your collar. His hands snake up and down on your body, sending shudders through you while his lips lavish your collarbones with soft kisses. He hardly gives you time to recover from the intense kiss and control your irregular breathing before already starting to trail a path down your chest, his lips worshiping your skin meticulously. You wrap your arms about his neck and bite your lip as he reaches the tops of your breasts, kissing the valley between lightly and making you shiver. A whimper spills from your lips when Jack presses his upon the soft swell of your right breast, one hand sliding up to cup the other, gathering the pliant flesh in his palm, thumb stroking the pebbled nipple. Your whimper turns into a breathy moan of pleasure as Jack's lips wander downward on your other breast, his moustache tickling your skin. Suddenly, his lips close around your nipple, sucking on the erect peak. Your fingers dig in the firm flesh of his shoulder blades, your breath coming in short gasps as Jack laves his tongue over the hard nipple and nibbles it lightly with his teeth before sucking again gently, fervent keening noises sounding from your throat as pleasure swirls madly within you. Jack's long fingers caress your left breast, thumb rolling over the aching nipple torturously slowly while the other slips down to your hip, rubbing the flesh deftly. Unconsciously, you buck your hips gently against his under the sensual stimulation, causing Jack to groan gruffly against your breast, sucking strongly at your nipple for a second so that you cry out, the vaguely painful jolt of pleasure shooting through you causing aching warmth to simmer in your very core. Sliding one hand down his shoulder, you trail it along his torso, loving the feel of smooth skin over firm muscle. Your thumb mimics the movements of his on your nipple, rubbing slow circles over his warm flesh as your palm wanders ever downwards between your bodies, following the trail of dark hair beneath his navel. Reaching your target, you waste no time to graze your fingers teasingly against his arousal, stroking them slowly down, pressing the stiff member against your soft belly in the process. Jack growls against your skin the moment you touch him, his entire body tensing, the fingers on your hip tightening their hold. He releases your nipple and surprises you by blowing cool air on the damp nub, grinning lazily as your body jerks, a gasp leaving your lips. Narrowing your eyes, you curl your fingers around his hardness firmly and stroke your thumb over the tip, smirking victoriously as Jack hisses a curse under his breath, his breathing turning laboured. Your triumph is short-lived as Jack grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from him and crushing his lips against yours hard, kissing you domineeringly. You match his fervour with you own, the yearning to be one with him and feel him within you having grown to a dull ache that only keeps intensifying. Lightly tweaking your hard nipple for one last time, Jack pulls his hand away from your breast and places it similarly on your hip like the other, pushing lightly to get you to lift them - you catch onto his idea immediately, rising to your knees and pushing up your hips slightly, drawing moans from both of you as your heat brushes against his arousal. Wantonly, you buck against him harder, unwilling to wait another moment. Jack makes throaty noise of approval, carefully guiding you down; you moan loudly in the kiss as you sink down over him, his arousal sliding effortlessly into your wetness. Jack breaks the kiss, breathing harshly against your lips, his eyes black in the dimness of the cabin as he stares at you intensely, lifting one hand to comb his fingers slowly through your hair. Despite the fiery passion in his lust-clouded eyes, his tone is soft as he whispers huskily, "Love you, darling." Tangling your hands in his hair, you smile tenderly at Jack as you gaze deep into his eyes. "I love you, too," you murmur. The feeling of completion fills you, your heart aching at the utter beauty of the unity between your bodies and souls. Jack smiles and claims your lips, the slow kiss loving instead of heated. You smile against his lips, tentatively swaying your hips, moaning at the delicious friction between your bodies. Jack's hand leaves your hair and slides down back to your hip, holding on to you as he leans back, taking you with him as he lies down on the bed. You gaze down at him with darkened eyes as you break the kiss, sitting up straight and supporting yourself against his chest, splaying your fingers over the smooth skin. Your breathing quickens as you set a steady, slow rhythm, rolling your hips languidly. Jack's coal black orbs follow you closely, watching you keenly with a predatory glint in their depths - but at least for now, he restrains himself and allows you to take your own pleasure as you see fit. Jack's gaze roved admiringly over your naked body that so alluringly rode his, watching the candlelight flicker on your skin and paint it golden, his breath catching in his throat. Your mussed hair tumbled down your shoulders and brushed your round breasts, tightened by your desire and his caresses. He slid his hands over your thighs that clutched his hips, indulging himself with stroking your soft skin. He bit back a groan and clenched his jaw hard as you slowly slid yourself up and back down on him, your body gripping him tightly in its slick sheath: already, you were driving him mad. A pleased purr rumbles from your throat as Jack's hands climb up on your body, caressing your skin as they slide over your hips and along your sides, his thumbs rubbing your stomach. You inhale sharply as they travel upward still, his thumbs now brushing teasingly along the undersides of your breasts, a satisfied smirk tugging at Jack's lips at your reaction. You moan and dip your head back a little as they cover your breasts fully, the jolt of pleasure running through you causing you to pick up the pace, rolling your hips quicker and eliciting a deep moan from Jack. The increased friction robs you of your breath momentarily, your eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation. Sliding his hands languidly down from your breasts and stroking them across your belly, Jack grasps your hips, assisting you as you roll your hips against his, pulling you harder against him with each thrust. You pant as you incline your body forward slightly, groaning as the new angle causes Jack's hard arousal to stroke against the sensitive nub within you with each thrust. Intoxicated by the maddening pleasure that runs through you with each thrust, you grind yourself against Jack with wild fervour, his fingers digging harder into your hips as he struggles to control his urge to flip you over and bury himself as deep within your body as possible. Never seizing your movements, you look down at Jack for a moment, taking in the beauty of his heavy-lidded gaze and the thin sheen of perspiration covering his body, glistening faintly in the soft light of the candles. Holding your eyes with his own, Jack snakes one hand from your hip, sliding it between your bodies where you're joined together so sweetly and sinks a long finger down to brush his fingertip lightly against the tender spot of nerve-endings, the contact making you cry out in pleasure and arch your back, bucking against his touch, digging your fingers into his chest in your frenzy as Jack teases you. Your thighs clutch tightly at Jack's hips, your entire body quivering as the intense pleasure mounts inside you. You whimper as you feel yourself teetering on the brink of completion, gasping and panting as the heavenly feeling in your abdomen builds up, deeper and stronger, you body quivering in the prelude for ecstasy. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a growl as your body gripped him hard, the soft noises of unadulterated pleasure spilling from your lips with each stroke driving him insane with lust. He failed to hold back another groan as your muscles contracted again, clutching him agonizingly tightly, and he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Pulling his hand away from the apex of your thighs, Jack slammed your hips hard against his, revelling in your keening whimpers and soft pleads you probably had no comprehension of letting out of your mouth in your state of excitement. You cry out loudly as a hot wave of pure pleasure washes through you, your body tensing up and grasping at Jack tightly. With a rough growl, Jack suddenly springs himself into sitting, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck, groaning against your skin. “My beautiful sprite…” He pulls you against him hard, thrusting deeply, and your body quakes, the tight coil within your abdomen snapping and shattering as you fall off the sweet edge. You scream hoarsely in your bliss, hardly feeling Jack’s teeth biting into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as your pulsing body about him sets forth his own rapture, growling gutturally as a heat of different kind spreads within your abdomen. Your heart races madly, pounding against your ribcage as the pulsing waves of bliss sweep through you, over and over again. You lose the track of time and place in the throes of the overpowering pleasure, panting breathlessly, clinging onto Jack’s strong body like a lifeline as your body quivers helplessly. Slowly, ever so slowly, your mind begins to clear, and you see as you crack your eyes open that you’re lying prone atop Jack, who has flopped back to lay on the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly in the wake of his ecstasy. With your head pillowed upon the said chest, you can hear the rapid pounding of his heart in your ear, knowing it matches yours. Jack’s hands stroke up and down your back, your own still wrapped about him, palms between the bed and his back. For a moment, you lie still in his arms, basking in the complete feeling of closeness and unity. Lifting your head, you place a chaste kiss on his chest before gazing down at him, admiring his features for a second before smiling a slow, impish smile. “So, how are you feeling about Christmas, now?” Jack chuckles, his palms sliding up to tangle in your hair. “This one is infinitely better than any other year, believe me,” he drawls lazily with his eyes closed, smirking. “If they’re all like this, it’s safe to say it’ll soon become my favourite holiday.” You grin, pleased to hear your mission is accomplished. Suddenly, the ring you bought him as a gift earlier returns to your mind; you’d already forgotten about it, for obvious reasons. “Oh, I have a gift for you.” Jack cracks his eyes open, a curious glint in the brown orbs. “I thought this was my gift?” he asks with a grin. “Well,” you purr, smiling mischievously. “Good boys get the most gifts. Merry Christmas, Jack.” “Merry Christmas indeed,” he murmurs and smirks, pulling your head down for a long kiss. THE END |