Ring and Goddess post AWE fic 6-10
Apr. 7th, 2008 05:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
soleilpirateTitle: Ring and Goddess
Author: Soleil Compeau
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Jack/Other
Spoilers: Set after AWE, a sequel to Life After Loss. It's helpful to have read the first one to better understand Sarah's character and the subsequent events of this story.
Rating: NC17 to be on the safe side, since I describe what happens in the marital bed. And the deck and captain's quarters of the Pearl, and the orange grove...oh sorry!
Disclaimer: These stunt doubles have just reenacted what takes place after the final cut. No profit or wages are being made. I do this out of deep love for the characters.
Summary: Jack and Sarah have settled down into a life of frequent voyages, tending a home, and raising children. But their idyllic life is threatened by an evil man bent on destroying them. Can they call on supernatural forces to save their family and help their friends?
Chapter Six - First Homecoming
It was near sunset but Jack could not wait anymore. The ship was at anchor right up against the dock, the very one he and Sarah had said such a memorable goodbye beneath ten months ago. Last time he had been here he'd had to use the boats but now enough carpentry had been done to allow his ship much closer. That pleased him immensely.
They'd made port earlier that afternoon and he'd released his men, but waited aboard the Pearl until closer to evening. No longer, he raced down the gangplank and set off towards home. Sarah was not there, and he searched for her in the small town. He heard noise and music, observed the edges of a crowd, and moved closer.
The town square was lit up by the light of the reddish, lowering sun. And smack in the center of all that glowing brilliance his Sarah held court. Dressed as a gypsy, with silver bangles on her wrists and ankles, she was just beginning a dance. Poised gracefully with her arms artfully over her head and all her long hair pinned up atop her head, she waited for the strains of the guitar before moving.
Enchanted, Jack mingled with the crowd to get closer to her. His eyes searched out the source of the music and saw a guitarist, flutist, and fiddler. His eyes returned to watch her dance. Jack had never seen this before. She twirled, jumped, and pirouetted, keeping rhythm with her clapping hands. She kicked high, drawing oohs of delight from her audience and showing tantalizing glimpses of her legs. The blouse she wore was cut low enough to give more tantalizing glimpses but not so low that she would be truly scandalous. Sarah just flirted along the edge.
Jack cast curious assessing glances at the people gathered to watch her. It was mostly young people, many of them paired off. A very few young mothers were there as well, some of them looking enviously at Sarah's trim figure and smooth movements. The look in their eyes suggested that they would be trying out a few of those moves themselves, to keep their husband's interests active.
The even fewer matronly types were on the edge of the crowd, and casting disapproving eyes at Sarah as well as murmuring to the woman standing next to them. It made Jack chuckle. Every society had a Mrs. Grundy. These same women would be the ones to bring Sarah a casserole after the birth of her next baby.
He ignored everyone around him and focused on enjoying seeing her perform, unknowing of his devouring eyes on her. She brought the dance to a climax just as the deep gold and orange and purple gleams of sun set, with increasingly high leaps and vaults, at some point releasing her hair to fling wildly about her face. She then settled to the ground with every appearance of a feather drifting lazily to earth, then went into a full crouch, head bent to her knees.
Wild applause greeted the ending of that dance. Sarah rose regally and swept into a low curtsy, eyes glowing with joy and a sweet smile gracing her lips. The musicians bowed as well, then the fiddler removed his hat and began to pass it around the crowd. Jack reached into his pouch and agreeably dropped several coins in before passing it to the next person. Then he melted into the shadows as the crowd began to disperse.
An island of space opened up around the dancer and the musicians, and as it widened and twilight deepened he walked towards her. She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and turned. For just a moment she simply stared at him with huge unblinking eyes, then her face split into a joyous grin and she ran towards him.
She literally leapt into his arms. He had anticipated it and braced himself, catching her with only one backwards step, and then her lips were on his. He lost himself in the kiss, letting everything else fade away in his mind except for her weight against his chest and stomach, her arms locked behind his neck, her legs squeezing around his waist.
A polite clearing of a throat caught his attention. He let his awareness expand to include the one who'd made it, but did not shorten the kiss less than one second. They let the kiss trail off into soft pecks on the cheeks before turning to see four smiling faces beaming at them. Jack raised an eyebrow, set Sarah down gently, and smiled a charming greeting to them.
"Hello Jack," the young lady in a simple dress and a maid's cap said shyly. She held a chubby baby with a mop of dark curls and deep brown eyes.
"And you are..?" Jack inquired of her as he took the proferred child. Teague giggled, tugging at Jack's heart, and clapped his hands as his father bore him closer to his chest.
"My name is Esther, Captain Sparrow. And the first thing I must tell you is that you are safe here. Sarah is my friend as well as my employer, I used to serve her when she lived on Toma Island with her aunt and uncle. She speaks of you quite often, and says you are a good man." An impish smile finished her speech.
Jack glanced over his shoulder at Sarah. She was still grinning. "Not a word of it, I assure you." he said gravely, bouncing his son on his shoulder.
Esther turned to the young men still standing there with their instruments. She indicated the guitarist. "This is Joshua, do you remember him? You advised Sarah to hire him."
"So I did. As personal manservant, as I recall. Well, womanservant, in this case. So you took the job, I take it?" Jack eyed him warily. This was a man who had the closest physical proximity to his woman, was there every day when he himself wasn't, and under his advisement or not, that raised his hackles. Jack Sparrow was extremely protective of what he considered his.
The man met Jack's eyes steadily. "It is not a job to me. Esther regards Sarah as a friend, and I regard her as an angel of mercy. I would do anything for her."
Damn. There could be a potential problem here. "Uh huh. And she pays you for the privilege, even!"
Joshua saw the edge of rivalry and defused it by saying, "That was the only way she would let me come. And I couldn't very well let Esther get too far away, now could I?" he moved to the young lady and wrapped an arm around her waist. Voila, problem solved.
Sarah finished the introductions quickly. Tom played fiddle, and Bowen played the flute. Each of them shook hands with him and smiled openly into his face, trying to assure him with earnest eyes of the same thing Esther had said to him. None of them would betray his presence here.
"Well! All's settled then! Shall we go? The first order of business for me is a proper bath. You would not believe what I've been washing with recently, and I don't want my first night back with my lovely wife to be an unpleasant odorous event for her." Jack swaggered off in the direction of the house with Teague still in his arms, and the rest trailed after him.
Esther took Teague to prepare him for bed, while Sarah readied a bath for her husband. The wood stove in the house kept a nearly continuous supply of heated water. She had only to scoop it into buckets and fill the luxurious wooden tub in the bedroom.
He removed his weapons, belt, and vest. He carefully set the plundered gifts for Sarah under his effects on the chair, intending them to be a surprise. He pulled off his bandanna just as Sarah came back in with another steaming bucket. She'd never seen him without it, as intimate as they'd been. Without it he seemed far more vulnerable. His hair tumbled into his face and he kept tossing it back while he unbraided the large ponytail in the back. His locks didn't get washed as often as he did, but braids like his needed care.
Jack pulled off his boots, and began lifting his shirt over his head. He was so busy with his preparations that it took him a moment to realize that Sarah was staring hungrily at him. He felt a flush of desire, and turned slowly to face her fully, dropping his hands to his sides. "Like what you see love?"
Chapter Seven - Shore Leave
Her eyes traveled up and down his body. "You are so beautiful Jack."
He chuckled with delight and preened just a bit. "It's women who are beautiful love, not a word used to describe a man." He paused and considered his words. "Even a specimen such as meself."
She smiled lazily. "Your bath is getting cold Jack."
His eyes on her face, Jack untied his sash slowly, letting it drift out of his hands and fall to the floor. He unfastened his breeches and slid them down his legs, then kicked them aside. Sarah did not meet his eyes. Instead, she watched the fall of his clothes avidly. He saw her chest rising and falling faster as he reached for the breechclout that was his last covering.
He was not aroused yet, but definitely interested. His manhood pulsed gently with his heartbeat, just a bit longer and thicker than normal. Stepping into the tub, he sank down until he was covered, his knees pushed up a bit, bath water lapping at his navel.
"Mmmmm!" Jack sighed contentedly and crossed his arms behind his head, stretching his upper body a bit. Sarah knelt beside the tub and laid a hand on his chest. A sudden mischievous smile crossed her face.
Both hands were suddenly on his sides, fingers wiggling over his armpits. "Ticklish, Jack?"
Unfortunately he was, and his reaction was immediate and reflexive. He yelped with laughter and jerked his arms down quickly, causing a large splash of water to drench Sarah from the chest down.
"That'll teach ye," he grumbled good naturedly, still shivering in ticklish reaction.
"Oh no," Sarah drawled. "I've gotten my dress wet. Oh well! Guess I'll just have to take it off!"
Jack gazed up at her adoringly as she stood over him and unlaced her gown. She drew it off, along with her chemise, and smiled down at him. Seeing his arm snake out of the water, prepatory to pulling her down into the water with him, she spoke quickly. "The tub isn't big enough for two Jack. You'll have to settle for me washing your....back."
Very little washing actually took place. Sarah did kneel down beside the tub and did actually pick up the soap and washcloth. But the soap dropped forgotten from her hand when Jack leaned into her and began nibbling and suckling at her neck, down where it joined her shoulder. The washcloth went to good use under the water, rubbing gently and enticingly against Jack's most sensitive place.
He used gentle fingers to peak her nipple, then skimmed his palm back and forth over it. Just as he reached for the other one, a soft knock came at the bedroom door, followed by the fuss of a tired baby. "Sarah? Jack?" called Esther.
They broke apart. Sarah's eyes were wide, her face and neck flushed. Jack groaned, then grinned ruefully and slid further down into the water. "Best throw on a housecoat love. Our son needs those more than I do right now."
While she tended to the sleepy baby and settled him into his crib, Jack scrubbed away his sexual frustration with soap and shampoo. He dried himself vigorously and flopped down on the large inviting bed. The pillows smelled like Sarah, and he buried his face into them. She was in the alcove, humming softly to Teague.
When she stepped back in the bedroom, she was greeted by a squeaky clean Jack Sparrow sprawled on her pillows, watching her dressing gown flutter around her. He licked his lips, she dropped it off her shoulders, and set down on the edge. Jack sat up quickly and reached for her, she held up a hand.
"Wait Jack. I want to touch you, my way. Oh, I've dreamed of you coming home, and what I'd do to you...let me? Please? And don't move one..single..inch?"
His face darkened with lust, he lay back and put his hands down near his hips, soft and relaxed. "Go ahead Sarah. I'll do my best. So hungry, I am."
She ran a fingertip over his face, from his bare high forehead, down over his nose, and outlined his lips. Jack caught her finger lightly in his teeth and stroked it with his tongue. She tugged the finger away, and continued on down over his bearded chin and along his tender throat. Reaching his chest, she spread all her fingers over him to caress. Lifting one of his hands, she kissed his palm, then suckled his first finger into her mouth. Then the next finger, and the next.
His eyes became heavy lidded when she moved from his finger to the inside of his wrist and suckled. Wet kisses marched up the inside of his arm and paused lingeringly at the inner part of his elbow. Her lips glided up to his shoulder, bit down suddenly, then soothed with her tongue. She repeated the entire treatment on the other arm. Then she went to work on his neck.
Jack tensed, trying to hold back from touching her. He wanted to run his hands over her bare back, pull her close to feel her breasts, taste her. She nipped at his neck suddenly and he made a sound of appreciation. Sarah drifted down to his chest. Her lips lingered on the bullet scars, danced teasingly over his nipples, drifted down to his belly. She raised her head and traced her finger over the tattoo he bore in the middle of his chest.
She knew the story full well, knew the pain and betrayal and despair behind the simple phrase, 'Sans Pays.' Knew how it had shaped him from the honest, naive man he'd been to the cynical deceitful pirate he was now. Knew also that Tia Dalma tattooed it on him before they broke with each other. She straddled him and moved back and forth over his nipples, using her teeth. He could feel her downy hair brushing his thighs.
"Ahhh," he ground out, arching up just slightly. She slid down his body so that her breasts rubbed his erection on her way to his legs. Heated kisses trailed over his thighs, down the outside, then up the inside. "Mmm," he moaned.
"Roll over please Jack."
He opened his eyes and searched hers. Before he did as she requested, he reared up and ran his tongue from her lower lip down her throat to the sweet spot just between her breasts. Sarah rolled her eyes back and whimpered. His sinful caress nearly blew apart her control. But there was more of his body to savor.
She brushed aside the long silky strands of hair and lightly bit the back of his neck. His soft cry and jerk was so satisfying she did it again, harder. He growled. "Keep doing that darling, you'll get quite a surprise."
A thrill ran through her and she was strongly tempted to bite him again, and see what would happen. Instead, she decided that it would be even more fun to move all the way down his back to the beginning crease in his tush. She placed her tongue there and ran it all the way up his spine to the place she had just bitten.
Jack raised himself a few inches off the bed and growled again. Both of them were gasping now. "I want to taste you Sarah. I want to fill my mouth with your sweet peachy flavor and drink up your moans."
"Oooohh!" she gasped. She stared at the tattooed poem on his back, the words that marched across his shoulderblades down to the small of his back a remnant of the way he used to deal with the world. Jack still lived by some of these phrases, she'd seen it for herself. Then Jack was turning on the bed and reaching for her.
He grasped her hips and pulled her up onto his chest, farther, until her womanhood was just above his mouth. But he didn't taste her right away. No, he wanted to tease her, as she had teased him.
"Here's a tasty spot," he murmured as his tongue lapped at her navel. Sarah squirmed. He moved down, and bit the soft flesh just beneath, and ran his tongue over the few faint stretch marks she bore.
"Mmm, and another one!" Now he gave attention to the joins of her legs on either side of the sweet swollen flesh they both wanted him to touch.
"Jack!" she cried desperately. She tried to wiggle her way to his heavenly mouth, but his grip on her was too firm, and his control was iron. His tongue danced back and forth licking her tender skin and skipping entirely the most needy part of her. "Please, Jack!"
He didn't make her beg any longer. He didn't need to. What he needed was shared pleasure with her, so at her request he instantly moved his tongue to her aching clitoris and laved it roughly. She began to come, and he took the sensitive button carefully between his teeth and flicked his tongue as hard as he could over the trapped flesh. At the same time he slid his fingers inside her and pressed and curled them against her walls.
Sarah spasmed above him. She could not even cry out, the sensations were so intense. Sweat trickled down her temples. Stars and lightning flashes flickered behind her closed eyelids. She was unaware that her fists had gripped Jack's hair tightly, nor was she aware that her reaction was only driving him higher.
He released her and slid her down to his lap, pushing himself further down on the bed. He sat up, and leaned back on his hands, waiting for her to catch on. Sarah sat atop his thighs, pressed right up against the steel velvet heat that pulsed against her, legs draped along his hips. She mimicked his stance, and understanding dawned. She pushed her hips forward and he glided in. Both of them used their hands to push themselves together.
It was slow, and sweet, and urgent, and wonderful. They rocked back and forth, touching only below the waist. Jack gazed at her with a loving smile while his hair swished back and forth over his shoulders. This pace enabled Sarah to achieve heights over and over without making her sore with rough pounding, especially when he brought one hand forward to fondle the place where they came together.
His eyes glowed as he watched her tumble off the edge at least four times. At last the slow movements became too much for him. He needed more. He murmured to her, she put her hands around his neck, and he turned them over in fluid, graceful motions.
Jack was sweaty, and needy. He pinned her hands over her head and bounced hard on her, driving himself as deep as he could. Moments later, he pressed his face into her hair and the beautiful sounds of his orgasm rang in her ears.
Chapter Eight - Content
He felt her leaving the bed, sometime in the early morning. He heard his small son cooing, then quiet again as she settled him. Jack never opened his eyes during this, never came up fully from the depths of sleep. He knew instinctively that he was safe here.
The sun was much brighter when he was awakened again, by Teague's sounds once more. He wasn't crying, just babbling and cooing. Jack rose from the bed and looked for his clothes. Sarah had taken the ones he'd left on the chair last night, but not touched his other effects, so his gift to her was still secretly buried. She had left another pair of trousers for him, very similar in color and style to his usual pair.
Pulling them on, he padded into the alcove and looked into the cradle. Teague was kicking his legs and had freed himself from his blanket. Chubby fists waved aimlessly in the air as he burbled contentedly to himself. Seeing Jack's face appear over his, he grinned a gap toothed baby smile and held out his arms.
The pirate couldn't help grinning back and reaching down to scoop up the tot. Father and son gazed at each other with identical deep brown eyes for a few minutes. Jack was remembering his own mother, wife of a pirate, his own father, captain of a magnificent huge-ish vessel. He had some rather painful memories of his childhood. What kind of father would he be? What would this Teague think of him when he grew older?
Little Teague broke the somber mood by hicoughing, and lying his head on Jack's shoulder. Jack closed his eyes and cuddled the child close, feeling in that moment that he would do anything, absolutely anything in the world, to protect this child and keep his affection.
He walked around the room looking at the various things Sarah had acquired while he was gone, and talking whimsically to his son. Looking out the window, he saw Sarah and Esther in the yard doing wash. For a moment he and the boy watched as they wrung clothing out of the steaming washtub and hung them on a line. Jack spotted his bandanna already hung up.
Sarah wiped sweat from her forehead, wishing she'd thought to tie her green scarf around her head before she'd started this task. She glanced up at the bedroom window, wondering what her boys were doing. When she went into the room a bit later, she discovered Jack lying on the unmade bed, balancing his toddler on his stomach. The baby was chortling and rocking back and forth, making a game of trying to catch the shiny trinkets in Jack's hair.
Her husband wore a smile of delight and contented peace in his eyes. He grabbed at his son's little fingers whenever they came too close to a bead or jewel. Seeing Sarah in the doorway distracted him, and the baby finally got hold of something, the large silver bangle next to Jack's ear. He crowed with delight and bounced back and forth.
Jack and Sarah both laughed aloud at his simple glee. "It's so good to have you here Jack. Though I'm afraid our simple lifestyle here can't compare to the adventures of being at sea."
Jack frowned. "No worries on that score darling. Take doldrums for example. The quietest day here is definitely an improvement." He glanced at her. "And I have your delightful company, that is by far the best part of shore leave, my love."
He rolled suddenly, scooping Teague off his belly and standing up. Setting the child down to crawl around the floor, he moved to the chair and picked up her gift, solemnly presenting the cherrywood box to her. "As promised Sarah, a bit of me plunder for you."
She began to say something but it was lost when Jack flipped it open. The first thing she saw was the black pearl necklace. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes flew to his face. He rocked back on his heels, inordinately proud of himself. "My God Jack, it's beautiful!"
"There's more," he said softly, near wiggling with excitement at how she'd react to the rest. He adored giving things to her, whether in bed or out, her reactions were so genuine and joyful.
Sarah lifted the necklace carefully out of the box and looked beneath at the loose collection of emeralds, pearls, and diamonds. She gasped. "Ohhh!" she breathed softly, not daring to move a finger towards the display, merely biting her lip as she admired it.
"Come darling! Let's get your necklace on, see how it looks gracing that lovely throat of yours!" Jack set the box aside and took the necklace from her, moving behind her to fasten it. Almost absently she held her hair aside for him. He nipped at her neck when he finished.
"Got a few for meself too. Going to put them in my hair." He continued. "Well? You've not said whether you like it or not."
"Jack, it's absolutely dazzling. Thank you so much! Truly, you being home is a gift in itself. You hardly needed to bring such riches, but it's wonderful that you did!" A grin crossed her face. "Tell me a pirate story Jack! How did you come by such lovelies?"
They settled side by side, crosslegged, on the bed. Jack described his adventures for her, and for little Teague who continued to cruise the room pulling himself unsteadily to his feet on all the available furniture. "And they demanded breeding stock of us, with no guarantee that we would be well treated."
"What did you do? Did you provide babies for the warriors?"
"What choice did we have but to agree?" A sly twinkle in his eyes. "We celebrated with rum. Do you know, those women had never tasted any kind of alcoholic beverage? Well, needless to say, though I will say it, the copious amounts of rum we consumed in celebration of our status as studs, put the err, ladies, fast asleep very soon." Sarah broke into uncontrollable giggles.
"And they woke to find that their fine new breeding stock had sailed off in the night. Well, three or five might have remained behind, out of love for the work offered." He endeavored to look as innocent as possible, a look he really couldn't pull off very well.
"So tell me love," he cleared his throat. "I meant to ask you before, but I was busy being imprisoned. What, exactly, does your inheritance entail?"
The mention of his imprisonment made Sarah wince, though it had seemed at the time a necessary step to take she didn't like that he'd suffered even a moment of being caged. It was clear by his tone though, that he laid no blame at her feet so she swallowed her twinge and answered. "My mother was a midwife as you already know, and my father was a barrister. A very good one, who traveled a good deal. My mother rarely was able to join him on his travels though, her work kept her far too busy. At any rate, they enjoyed the finer and more comfortable things in life, and spent their time acquiring them.
"My inheritance is not so much cash assets per se, as it is valuable properties. In other words, I now own two other homes, as well as all the furniture, draperies, clothing, silverware, china, and jewelery within."
Jack's eyebrows rose to great heights on his bare brow, reminding him that he needed his bandanna back to look even remotely respectable. Gesturing that he'd be back in a moment, Jack quickly went to the yard, fetched his red cloth, and took the stairs two at a time to return to her. Settling himself once again on the bed, he focused his attention on grooming himself back to the carefully cultivated appearance he kept up.
"Well....two other homes. Hmmm. That'll come in handy, I'll reckon," he muttered to himself as he tied the long red tails and began braiding the large mop he'd left out. "And where exactly might those two other homes be darling Sarah mine? England, perchance?"
"I grew up in Spain Jack, that's where one of the homes is. Spent very little time in England, besides, that home was sold...to pay for my parents funerals." Her voice trembled a bit. "The other house is in France."
She broke off not because Jack was no longer listening; she knew he was even though he was no longer looking at her. Sometime he gave every appearance of disinterest while every sense was sharply gathering information. Just now his eyes were peering sideways at his son. Teague had pulled himself up to stand holding on to the foot of the bed and was looking at his mother.
Jack gathered himself, catlike, slid down onto the floor, and crawled on all fours along the bed to the corner just around from Teague's face. A slow smile spread over Sarah's lips as she watched Jack play with little Teague. He kept absolutely still for several seconds, then suddenly leaped forward into the baby's line of sight, crying, "Rowr!" in a comical, exaggerated, lion's roar. Teague jumped in surprise and screamed with joy at the marvelous new game. He insisted with baby determination that his "dada" play it again and again, and Jack obliged him happily.
Chapter Nine - Lifestyle
That set the pattern for Jack and Sarah Sparrow's life. He would sail anywhere from three to nine months and then return home. In the evening, when he could watch her spectacular sunset dances. They would go home, he would bathe while she settled Teague, then they would make love and talk drowsily until sleep came. He usually stayed an average of four to six months before the sea longing got too deep for him to resist.
He got used to the routine of landlife. There was the garden to be tended to, shopping for fresh produce every other day, washing every week, and the hundred other little chores of a household. At the center of it all was baby Teague, prince of the Sparrow family.
Before he could even properly walk, Jack would scoop him up and carry him around on his back. When Jack returned the second time, he brought a rope and began teaching him to tie knots. His long slender hands patiently placed over the small fingers, showing him how again and again. On his third trip home, he brought a small pair of blue boots, a perfect fit and a miniature replica of Jack's own, though how he knew the right size was anyone's guess. It was usually Teague who first spotted his father in the crowds after sunset, and would run to him with a happy gleeful face, to be swung up and placed on Jack's shoulders.
Though Teague was the center of attention and his every milestone and accomplishment celebrated, he was not spoiled. When he was disobedient, his mother would simply tell him "no." If he responded with tears or tantrums she simply turned her back on him, ignoring him if he continued to whine. But his smiles and laughter and agreeable responses brought her back to him, smiling lovingly into his face. Only on a few occasions would she need to call him sternly by his full name, "John Teague!"
When he sailed away the second time, he did indeed bring Elizabeth and William Weatherby with him, to search for the Flying Dutchman and Will. He returned three months later with an ecstatically happy Elizabeth Turner. She described to Sarah how they had finally found Will by searching for shipwrecks, and the two ships anchored together off Rumrunner's Island, with boarding planks between them and the two crews giving themselves up to jollification.
Sarah bought another Morgan horse, a brown stallion she whimsically named Harold. She bred Penny to him and she had a beautiful little foal which Teague fell absolutely in love with. His mother relented and instead of selling the colt, she gave it to her son. He named his horse Blaze.
When Jack sailed away the third time, his wife and child joined him. The little boy was three years and a half years old by then, a sturdy lad with olive skin, high cheekbones, deep brown eyes, and wavy black hair that was long enough now to be tied back. There was no denying who that child took after.
Sarah told Jack she wanted a look at their other homes. The inheritance presented a unique legal dilemma. Since Sarah was a woman, she could not legally be landowner. Yet the will her father drew up clearly stated that Sarah Deverleigh was his sole heir upon her marriage. She acknowledged her marriage proudly, yet protected Jack from imprisonment and a death sentence.
Jack watched from the helm as Sarah held Teague's hand and taught him to balance by allowing him to walk the rail, a thing Jack had shown her during their honeymoon. "Daddy, look at me! I'm not fallin'!"
He grinned happily. "So I see!"
"Daddy! I want a hat like yours Daddy!" the child shouted gleefully.
"You shall have it, my son. A really big one!"
Jack's eyes shifted to his wife. She was a vision of beauty to him, dressed in trousers, a feminine gypsy blouse, with her wild black hair flowing free. He recalled how she looked in their cabin last night, one flickering candle picking up the gleam of her skin as she rode him hard. She still wanted to tie him up, he still wouldn't let her. He did grasp hold of the headboard and let her have complete control, and she pleasured him until he was hoarse from moaning.
They arrived in France. The house was stunning, it looked like a mansion. Within, Jack found riches to satisfy even his greedy pirate heart. "It wouldn't do to let me crew see this place, not at all. Not if you want to keep hold of the majority of this stuff."
Sarah glanced up from her sorting of the silver and candlesticks. "I fully intend to set a fair amount of this aside as booty, my Captain."
He dropped the teapot he had in his hands and stared at her. Her lips were twitching. "Have I told you lately that I love you? Truly, deeply, wonderfully?"
"I believe you did...last night in bed, in fact. Only it sounded more like, 'Oh Sarah, I can't stand it! Right there, ohhh, don't stop!'" She hastily set down the utensils in her hand and darted off with a naughty smile, her husband hotly pursuing her.
Unsurprisingly, their game of tag took them into the bedroom, however, the tapestries and rugs distracted them. Sarah flung open the closet door. "Jack! I think...some of my father's clothes might fit you!"
A half hour later they were transformed. Sarah minced back and forth in a pale cream gown with rosettes of pink. Jack admired himself in a full length mirror, wearing a linen shirt and a deep blue velvet waistcoat. A bottle of fine wine from the wine cellar sat on the walnut bedside table. He uncorked it and poured two goblets full.
Sarah held hers high. "To always having everything our own way!" They clinked glasses and drank deeply, celebrating their love and family along with their riches.
Sarah spent some time sorting it, packed quite a bit of it in trunks which were put aboard the Pearl, and offered some of the less fine clothing to the crew. For herself and Jack she chose several fine and several more ordinary sets of clothes. The majority was transported back to Florida. Before they set sail again, Jack disappeared, then returned a short time later with a leather tricorner hat, sized for a child. It was a bit large for him, but that didn't matter. The hat instantly became Teague's most precious possession.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Come with us Jack. We have something to show you!" Elizabeth had come to visit, and the two ladies looked every bit the high society females they were not, complete even with lacy parasols. Arm in arm they strolled with Jack to the docks. A beautiful junk lay at anchor, lacking only a figurehead, a name, and a full crew.
"I want to buy this vessel Jack." Upon her quiet words Jack began inspecting the said vessel with a critical eye. Only when he finished and nodded his cautious approval did he question why.
"There are many wonderful things in this world, that even you, fine pirate that you are, cannot plunder. So I thought I'd send a ship with the things I have no use for and trade them for the things I want!"
Elizabeth chimed in then. "We hoped you and Mr. Gibbs could help us find a good crew for her, when the time comes for her to sail."
"I see." Jack's voice was cold. "Trading means one thing love. The East India Trading Company. THEY control the merchant routes." He paused. "Planning on working for them, are you?"
"Of course not." Sarah waved a dismissive hand and Jack's face lost a bit of it's sternness. "Look at her! A small ship, the better to slide under the notice of the Company and do a little illegal trading. I want you to look after this ship, to use your abilities as pirate lord and master of the finest ship in the Caribbean, to protect it from pirates while she carries valuable cargo."
He looked back and forth between the ship and Sarah. "My my. What an enterprising woman you are, my dear!" The planes of his face were soft and happy as he moved close to her and gathered her into his arms.
Elizabeth raised an astonished eyebrow. Though buying the ship with her friend, she hadn't known Sarah had planned to ask Jack for immunity for the junk. Such trust she placed in him, such blind confidence. She envied a bit that interplay. Sarah had never known the Jack she had, she had only ever been presented with his honest qualities.
She turned her back on their tender moment. Tears stung her eyes and her arms hung dead by her side. Why should she move them, when there was nothing and no one she could hold? Her eyes fell on her bright haired son, playing off in the distance with the dark child of Jack and Sarah. Oh yes, to be sure. She must go on for her son's sake, though she sometimes had no interest in living at all. She was in that moment almost insanely jealous of her friends behind her.
Was Jack a better man because Sarah chose to see his qualities and not his faults first and foremost, and therefore Jack was more likely to be that in Sarah's presence? Or was it that Elizabeth had misjudged him? Certainly he had showed no qualms about lying both to her and to Will. Of course, Jack had been desperate for his very soul at one point in their adventures together and was being hemmed in by the world on all sides. After all, this was a very peaceful time for Jack. Love had done much for him.
The ship was purchased, with Joshua as the agent. A carpenter was commissioned to carve the figurehead, and a week later it was finished, a lady who held a dance pose almost exactly like that of Sarah's, but her face and hair and smile identical to Elizabeth. Jack held a bottle of wine poised above the prow, and Sarah gave him the signal. He smashed the bottle over the prow and proclaimed, "I christen you, the Sarah's Swann!"
He sailed with Elizabeth a week later, unknowing that it was into danger.
Chapter Ten - Absence
Sarah stopped pacing and groaned, bent over as another pain hit hard. Esther bit her lip, looking worried. She would not stop pacing, and the contractions were too close, the baby still riding high in Sarah's belly. It was not going well.
"Are you sure? Are you sure she is not there?" the dark haired woman asked urgently.
"Yes Sarah. Elizabeth's house is dark, just as it has been for months now." Esther answered as gently as she could.
The laboring woman sighed. Her head hung down on her chest. "Where IS he? Where is Jack?" she whispered miserably. Tears flowed down her face.
Somehow, she must have let go of her tension and despair, because with the next contraction her water broke, the baby finally dropped lower, and Sarah got ready to push.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Esther spotted him first, not long after the lunch hour, walking slowly up the lawn to the front door unheeding of the revealing daylight he'd always been careful to avoid.
"Sarah! Joshua! Teague! Jack is coming!"
Sarah rushed out the door to meet him, her son right beside her. She nearly ordered him back to the house but could not quite bring herself to. She had never held him back from his father.
As Jack drew close to her, he looked with surprise at the little girl she held on one arm. Before he could say a word in greeting though, Sarah gave the toddler to Teague, drew back a hand and slapped him soundly across the face.
Even through the pain of his cheek, Jack was more amazed it had happened at all. Sarah had never struck him, never even raised her voice in so much as irritation at him. He accepted her slap though.
"Where have you been!" Each word was measured in cold anger and fear. "It's been two years since I last saw you Jack! Two YEARS! Elizabeth and William have been gone as well. I had no idea if you were alive or dead!"
He stood before her, head lowered. "Apologies Sarah. It could not be helped."
The soft sad cadence of his voice made her look closely at him. Now that her anger was spent and her fear of his death was reassured by him before her alive and whole, she could let it dissipate in the wind. Deep circles unrelated to his kohl smudges deepened his eyes. His cheekbones protruded. He looked bone deep weary.
She realized suddenly that he was not hanging his head in shame, but studying the baby girl clinging to her elder brother. The child at a year and a half was just able to walk. Teague regarded him with serious eyes, biting his lower lip at the violent interplay between his parents.
Sarah softened even more towards Jack. "This is Mary Elizabeth Sparrow." she said simply.
As if she'd given permission, he dropped to one knee and opened his arms. Teague surged forward with a glad cry, pulling Mary along with him. He buried his face in his father's neck and hugged him hard enough to choke. Jack's brown hands stroked up and down his son's back, pulling him closer and closer with every squeeze. The little girl was caught up in the embrace. Her mouth was partially muffled by Jack's sleeve but Sarah clearly heard the word "Papa?" from the garrulous child.
"Come inside." She grasped his hand to pull him through the door and was startled anew. His wristbones were clearly outlined under his skin.
He sank down in the cushiony armchair nearest the fire, dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Mary climbed right into his lap, grunting with the effort of her short limbs until Jack, not even looking, grasped her and pulled her up. She cuddled herself into his chest. Teague settled himself on the arm of the chair.
The weary man's lips curved upwards. He stroked the dark waves of the little girl's hair. "She knows me."
It certainly seemed to be true. Sarah knelt before the hearth. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving." There was quiet desperation in that answer. Sarah ladled a bowl of stew from the kettle hanging over the fire, and with her eyes bade Esther to fetch bread from the kitchen. Joshua also hovered near, looking deeply concerned.
Jack took the food after shifting Mary to the other arm of the chair. He literally gobbled the steaming soup, eyes intent on the food. Sarah poured him a cup and handed it to him. "Rum."
He finished in record time. "More?" she asked quietly. He nodded gratefully and downed the rum, holding out his cup for more of that as well.
Having finished his meal, he spoke quietly. "I would like to sleep, if I may. I'm very tired."
"Darling, this is your home, and you may do as you like. It is so very good to see you again." As hard as she tried, Sarah was not able to keep the quaver from her voice.
He leaped up from the chair, stepping swiftly to her and crushing her into his arms. One hand cupped the back of her head. She heard his breath hitching irregularly against her ear. "Sarah, my Sarah," he murmured over and over.
As afternoon wore on, the three adult members of the house kept peeking into the bedroom where Jack sprawled sideways across the bed. He lay on his stomach, one hand outflung, the other lost beneath the dark spill of his hair. He did not move, but sometimes moaned as if in terrible pain. They talked in hushed whispers about what might have happened to him. Joshua offered to check once more on Elizabeth Turner.
That night after the children were put to bed, Sarah crept quietly into the bedroom. She swiftly undressed and as she began to slip her nightgown over her head Jack spoke, making her jump.
"Don't know why you're bothering to put that on love. I'm only going to rip it off."
She looked at him and he was sitting up, watching her with glowing eyes. As she stood there, he stood up and began hastily undressing. "Sarah, don't look at me like that, with those wounded eyes. It's still me, I'm the same man as ever. Just a little more scarred, that's all."
Her eyes followed the animal grace of his body, searching out these new scars he spoke of. She saw no wounds or new broken jagged lines. The sight of his bare body awoke the old hunger for him just as it always had between them. He was already firmly erect. Dropping the silky nightie to the floor, she rushed to him and pressed herself desperately against his body. The absence of the last two years made her rough.
Jack held her between his legs while he sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her everywhere between her chin and her hips. One arm curved around her waist and his hand pressed into the small of her back. With the other he cupped a breast tenderly, laving his tongue over the nipple, making her toss her head back and gasp, hands fisting tightly in his hair. He moved gently to the other breast.
Sarah opened her hands and gently caressed Jack's head. His warm breath puffed over her skin as he moved down to her stomach. His lips grazed lightly over her body and his mustache added to the sensations. Sarah felt the velvet warmth of his erection rubbing against her inner thigh. She moved her leg back and forth to stimulate him further. Jack cried softly, the sound buzzing through her skin.
He slid down the bed to the floor, holding her hips, and kissed her even more passionately. Her thighs were nipped, he slid one hand to her buttocks and nudged her legs apart with his other hand. She was beginning to whimper now. With his tongue he parted her netherlips and stroked between them. She cried out, heat flowed over Jack's lips, and he moaned throatily. His tongue delved deeper. His smooth hair stroked over her thighs, cool bangles bumped frequently into her, making her shiver.
She tipped her head back and opened her legs for better balance as well as to give him greater access. She was spiraling quickly out of control. She had been so long without him. Apparently he felt the same way, for she could feel and hear him making hungry sounds of pleasure. Like a child with a longed for treat, shaved ice and syrup maybe, he moaned and whimpered his sheer delight as he lapped her sweetness.
He sat on his naked butt leaning against the bed, Sarah above him, head tipped back and driving his tongue between her legs over and over and over. His hands gripped her thighs just below her bottom, supporting her weight as she began to fly apart for him. He struggled to wait, to hold himself back just little more, to enjoy that sweet magical sound of his name a sob on her lips.
She did it, a cry that was his name, and he could not bear it, felt that he would burst apart and he must be inside her when he did. He was so ready. Jack pulled his head back and brought her down on his lap, impaling her soft body. They strained together, but could not quite find the necessary rhythm that would release him. He growled, pushed her away, and stood up. Pulling Sarah to her feet, he then pushed her face down on the bed so her legs dangled off the side.
In a moment he was on her, still standing but with his knees bent slightly so his hips lined up with hers. She was ready for him, more than ready, and pushed her bottom back against him. He uttered a cry, and drove himself deep, shoving her even harder into the mattress. All gentleness was gone now. They were rough, wild, mating like animals.
Jack took a hard grip on her hips and pumped hard back and forth into her bottom. His face wore a snarl of effort, beads of sweat dripped down onto Sarah's back. She could not move, could barely offer him any leverage to push against, could only lay flat beneath his hammering hips and scream into the blanket. Jack growled, cried out, growled again, and then he was flying. Rough sobs broke from his lips and his arms trembled as his body spasmed in bliss.
Afterwards, he gathered her tenderly into his arms, moving them up to the pillows and cradling her. He buried his face in the place of his refuge, her silky dark hair. She fell asleep to the sound of him breathing in her scent, and his hands caressing slowly over her back.
Chapters 11 - 15
Author: Soleil Compeau
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Jack/Other
Spoilers: Set after AWE, a sequel to Life After Loss. It's helpful to have read the first one to better understand Sarah's character and the subsequent events of this story.
Rating: NC17 to be on the safe side, since I describe what happens in the marital bed. And the deck and captain's quarters of the Pearl, and the orange grove...oh sorry!
Disclaimer: These stunt doubles have just reenacted what takes place after the final cut. No profit or wages are being made. I do this out of deep love for the characters.
Summary: Jack and Sarah have settled down into a life of frequent voyages, tending a home, and raising children. But their idyllic life is threatened by an evil man bent on destroying them. Can they call on supernatural forces to save their family and help their friends?
Chapter Six - First Homecoming
It was near sunset but Jack could not wait anymore. The ship was at anchor right up against the dock, the very one he and Sarah had said such a memorable goodbye beneath ten months ago. Last time he had been here he'd had to use the boats but now enough carpentry had been done to allow his ship much closer. That pleased him immensely.
They'd made port earlier that afternoon and he'd released his men, but waited aboard the Pearl until closer to evening. No longer, he raced down the gangplank and set off towards home. Sarah was not there, and he searched for her in the small town. He heard noise and music, observed the edges of a crowd, and moved closer.
The town square was lit up by the light of the reddish, lowering sun. And smack in the center of all that glowing brilliance his Sarah held court. Dressed as a gypsy, with silver bangles on her wrists and ankles, she was just beginning a dance. Poised gracefully with her arms artfully over her head and all her long hair pinned up atop her head, she waited for the strains of the guitar before moving.
Enchanted, Jack mingled with the crowd to get closer to her. His eyes searched out the source of the music and saw a guitarist, flutist, and fiddler. His eyes returned to watch her dance. Jack had never seen this before. She twirled, jumped, and pirouetted, keeping rhythm with her clapping hands. She kicked high, drawing oohs of delight from her audience and showing tantalizing glimpses of her legs. The blouse she wore was cut low enough to give more tantalizing glimpses but not so low that she would be truly scandalous. Sarah just flirted along the edge.
Jack cast curious assessing glances at the people gathered to watch her. It was mostly young people, many of them paired off. A very few young mothers were there as well, some of them looking enviously at Sarah's trim figure and smooth movements. The look in their eyes suggested that they would be trying out a few of those moves themselves, to keep their husband's interests active.
The even fewer matronly types were on the edge of the crowd, and casting disapproving eyes at Sarah as well as murmuring to the woman standing next to them. It made Jack chuckle. Every society had a Mrs. Grundy. These same women would be the ones to bring Sarah a casserole after the birth of her next baby.
He ignored everyone around him and focused on enjoying seeing her perform, unknowing of his devouring eyes on her. She brought the dance to a climax just as the deep gold and orange and purple gleams of sun set, with increasingly high leaps and vaults, at some point releasing her hair to fling wildly about her face. She then settled to the ground with every appearance of a feather drifting lazily to earth, then went into a full crouch, head bent to her knees.
Wild applause greeted the ending of that dance. Sarah rose regally and swept into a low curtsy, eyes glowing with joy and a sweet smile gracing her lips. The musicians bowed as well, then the fiddler removed his hat and began to pass it around the crowd. Jack reached into his pouch and agreeably dropped several coins in before passing it to the next person. Then he melted into the shadows as the crowd began to disperse.
An island of space opened up around the dancer and the musicians, and as it widened and twilight deepened he walked towards her. She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and turned. For just a moment she simply stared at him with huge unblinking eyes, then her face split into a joyous grin and she ran towards him.
She literally leapt into his arms. He had anticipated it and braced himself, catching her with only one backwards step, and then her lips were on his. He lost himself in the kiss, letting everything else fade away in his mind except for her weight against his chest and stomach, her arms locked behind his neck, her legs squeezing around his waist.
A polite clearing of a throat caught his attention. He let his awareness expand to include the one who'd made it, but did not shorten the kiss less than one second. They let the kiss trail off into soft pecks on the cheeks before turning to see four smiling faces beaming at them. Jack raised an eyebrow, set Sarah down gently, and smiled a charming greeting to them.
"Hello Jack," the young lady in a simple dress and a maid's cap said shyly. She held a chubby baby with a mop of dark curls and deep brown eyes.
"And you are..?" Jack inquired of her as he took the proferred child. Teague giggled, tugging at Jack's heart, and clapped his hands as his father bore him closer to his chest.
"My name is Esther, Captain Sparrow. And the first thing I must tell you is that you are safe here. Sarah is my friend as well as my employer, I used to serve her when she lived on Toma Island with her aunt and uncle. She speaks of you quite often, and says you are a good man." An impish smile finished her speech.
Jack glanced over his shoulder at Sarah. She was still grinning. "Not a word of it, I assure you." he said gravely, bouncing his son on his shoulder.
Esther turned to the young men still standing there with their instruments. She indicated the guitarist. "This is Joshua, do you remember him? You advised Sarah to hire him."
"So I did. As personal manservant, as I recall. Well, womanservant, in this case. So you took the job, I take it?" Jack eyed him warily. This was a man who had the closest physical proximity to his woman, was there every day when he himself wasn't, and under his advisement or not, that raised his hackles. Jack Sparrow was extremely protective of what he considered his.
The man met Jack's eyes steadily. "It is not a job to me. Esther regards Sarah as a friend, and I regard her as an angel of mercy. I would do anything for her."
Damn. There could be a potential problem here. "Uh huh. And she pays you for the privilege, even!"
Joshua saw the edge of rivalry and defused it by saying, "That was the only way she would let me come. And I couldn't very well let Esther get too far away, now could I?" he moved to the young lady and wrapped an arm around her waist. Voila, problem solved.
Sarah finished the introductions quickly. Tom played fiddle, and Bowen played the flute. Each of them shook hands with him and smiled openly into his face, trying to assure him with earnest eyes of the same thing Esther had said to him. None of them would betray his presence here.
"Well! All's settled then! Shall we go? The first order of business for me is a proper bath. You would not believe what I've been washing with recently, and I don't want my first night back with my lovely wife to be an unpleasant odorous event for her." Jack swaggered off in the direction of the house with Teague still in his arms, and the rest trailed after him.
Esther took Teague to prepare him for bed, while Sarah readied a bath for her husband. The wood stove in the house kept a nearly continuous supply of heated water. She had only to scoop it into buckets and fill the luxurious wooden tub in the bedroom.
He removed his weapons, belt, and vest. He carefully set the plundered gifts for Sarah under his effects on the chair, intending them to be a surprise. He pulled off his bandanna just as Sarah came back in with another steaming bucket. She'd never seen him without it, as intimate as they'd been. Without it he seemed far more vulnerable. His hair tumbled into his face and he kept tossing it back while he unbraided the large ponytail in the back. His locks didn't get washed as often as he did, but braids like his needed care.
Jack pulled off his boots, and began lifting his shirt over his head. He was so busy with his preparations that it took him a moment to realize that Sarah was staring hungrily at him. He felt a flush of desire, and turned slowly to face her fully, dropping his hands to his sides. "Like what you see love?"
Chapter Seven - Shore Leave
Her eyes traveled up and down his body. "You are so beautiful Jack."
He chuckled with delight and preened just a bit. "It's women who are beautiful love, not a word used to describe a man." He paused and considered his words. "Even a specimen such as meself."
She smiled lazily. "Your bath is getting cold Jack."
His eyes on her face, Jack untied his sash slowly, letting it drift out of his hands and fall to the floor. He unfastened his breeches and slid them down his legs, then kicked them aside. Sarah did not meet his eyes. Instead, she watched the fall of his clothes avidly. He saw her chest rising and falling faster as he reached for the breechclout that was his last covering.
He was not aroused yet, but definitely interested. His manhood pulsed gently with his heartbeat, just a bit longer and thicker than normal. Stepping into the tub, he sank down until he was covered, his knees pushed up a bit, bath water lapping at his navel.
"Mmmmm!" Jack sighed contentedly and crossed his arms behind his head, stretching his upper body a bit. Sarah knelt beside the tub and laid a hand on his chest. A sudden mischievous smile crossed her face.
Both hands were suddenly on his sides, fingers wiggling over his armpits. "Ticklish, Jack?"
Unfortunately he was, and his reaction was immediate and reflexive. He yelped with laughter and jerked his arms down quickly, causing a large splash of water to drench Sarah from the chest down.
"That'll teach ye," he grumbled good naturedly, still shivering in ticklish reaction.
"Oh no," Sarah drawled. "I've gotten my dress wet. Oh well! Guess I'll just have to take it off!"
Jack gazed up at her adoringly as she stood over him and unlaced her gown. She drew it off, along with her chemise, and smiled down at him. Seeing his arm snake out of the water, prepatory to pulling her down into the water with him, she spoke quickly. "The tub isn't big enough for two Jack. You'll have to settle for me washing your....back."
Very little washing actually took place. Sarah did kneel down beside the tub and did actually pick up the soap and washcloth. But the soap dropped forgotten from her hand when Jack leaned into her and began nibbling and suckling at her neck, down where it joined her shoulder. The washcloth went to good use under the water, rubbing gently and enticingly against Jack's most sensitive place.
He used gentle fingers to peak her nipple, then skimmed his palm back and forth over it. Just as he reached for the other one, a soft knock came at the bedroom door, followed by the fuss of a tired baby. "Sarah? Jack?" called Esther.
They broke apart. Sarah's eyes were wide, her face and neck flushed. Jack groaned, then grinned ruefully and slid further down into the water. "Best throw on a housecoat love. Our son needs those more than I do right now."
While she tended to the sleepy baby and settled him into his crib, Jack scrubbed away his sexual frustration with soap and shampoo. He dried himself vigorously and flopped down on the large inviting bed. The pillows smelled like Sarah, and he buried his face into them. She was in the alcove, humming softly to Teague.
When she stepped back in the bedroom, she was greeted by a squeaky clean Jack Sparrow sprawled on her pillows, watching her dressing gown flutter around her. He licked his lips, she dropped it off her shoulders, and set down on the edge. Jack sat up quickly and reached for her, she held up a hand.
"Wait Jack. I want to touch you, my way. Oh, I've dreamed of you coming home, and what I'd do to you...let me? Please? And don't move one..single..inch?"
His face darkened with lust, he lay back and put his hands down near his hips, soft and relaxed. "Go ahead Sarah. I'll do my best. So hungry, I am."
She ran a fingertip over his face, from his bare high forehead, down over his nose, and outlined his lips. Jack caught her finger lightly in his teeth and stroked it with his tongue. She tugged the finger away, and continued on down over his bearded chin and along his tender throat. Reaching his chest, she spread all her fingers over him to caress. Lifting one of his hands, she kissed his palm, then suckled his first finger into her mouth. Then the next finger, and the next.
His eyes became heavy lidded when she moved from his finger to the inside of his wrist and suckled. Wet kisses marched up the inside of his arm and paused lingeringly at the inner part of his elbow. Her lips glided up to his shoulder, bit down suddenly, then soothed with her tongue. She repeated the entire treatment on the other arm. Then she went to work on his neck.
Jack tensed, trying to hold back from touching her. He wanted to run his hands over her bare back, pull her close to feel her breasts, taste her. She nipped at his neck suddenly and he made a sound of appreciation. Sarah drifted down to his chest. Her lips lingered on the bullet scars, danced teasingly over his nipples, drifted down to his belly. She raised her head and traced her finger over the tattoo he bore in the middle of his chest.
She knew the story full well, knew the pain and betrayal and despair behind the simple phrase, 'Sans Pays.' Knew how it had shaped him from the honest, naive man he'd been to the cynical deceitful pirate he was now. Knew also that Tia Dalma tattooed it on him before they broke with each other. She straddled him and moved back and forth over his nipples, using her teeth. He could feel her downy hair brushing his thighs.
"Ahhh," he ground out, arching up just slightly. She slid down his body so that her breasts rubbed his erection on her way to his legs. Heated kisses trailed over his thighs, down the outside, then up the inside. "Mmm," he moaned.
"Roll over please Jack."
He opened his eyes and searched hers. Before he did as she requested, he reared up and ran his tongue from her lower lip down her throat to the sweet spot just between her breasts. Sarah rolled her eyes back and whimpered. His sinful caress nearly blew apart her control. But there was more of his body to savor.
She brushed aside the long silky strands of hair and lightly bit the back of his neck. His soft cry and jerk was so satisfying she did it again, harder. He growled. "Keep doing that darling, you'll get quite a surprise."
A thrill ran through her and she was strongly tempted to bite him again, and see what would happen. Instead, she decided that it would be even more fun to move all the way down his back to the beginning crease in his tush. She placed her tongue there and ran it all the way up his spine to the place she had just bitten.
Jack raised himself a few inches off the bed and growled again. Both of them were gasping now. "I want to taste you Sarah. I want to fill my mouth with your sweet peachy flavor and drink up your moans."
"Oooohh!" she gasped. She stared at the tattooed poem on his back, the words that marched across his shoulderblades down to the small of his back a remnant of the way he used to deal with the world. Jack still lived by some of these phrases, she'd seen it for herself. Then Jack was turning on the bed and reaching for her.
He grasped her hips and pulled her up onto his chest, farther, until her womanhood was just above his mouth. But he didn't taste her right away. No, he wanted to tease her, as she had teased him.
"Here's a tasty spot," he murmured as his tongue lapped at her navel. Sarah squirmed. He moved down, and bit the soft flesh just beneath, and ran his tongue over the few faint stretch marks she bore.
"Mmm, and another one!" Now he gave attention to the joins of her legs on either side of the sweet swollen flesh they both wanted him to touch.
"Jack!" she cried desperately. She tried to wiggle her way to his heavenly mouth, but his grip on her was too firm, and his control was iron. His tongue danced back and forth licking her tender skin and skipping entirely the most needy part of her. "Please, Jack!"
He didn't make her beg any longer. He didn't need to. What he needed was shared pleasure with her, so at her request he instantly moved his tongue to her aching clitoris and laved it roughly. She began to come, and he took the sensitive button carefully between his teeth and flicked his tongue as hard as he could over the trapped flesh. At the same time he slid his fingers inside her and pressed and curled them against her walls.
Sarah spasmed above him. She could not even cry out, the sensations were so intense. Sweat trickled down her temples. Stars and lightning flashes flickered behind her closed eyelids. She was unaware that her fists had gripped Jack's hair tightly, nor was she aware that her reaction was only driving him higher.
He released her and slid her down to his lap, pushing himself further down on the bed. He sat up, and leaned back on his hands, waiting for her to catch on. Sarah sat atop his thighs, pressed right up against the steel velvet heat that pulsed against her, legs draped along his hips. She mimicked his stance, and understanding dawned. She pushed her hips forward and he glided in. Both of them used their hands to push themselves together.
It was slow, and sweet, and urgent, and wonderful. They rocked back and forth, touching only below the waist. Jack gazed at her with a loving smile while his hair swished back and forth over his shoulders. This pace enabled Sarah to achieve heights over and over without making her sore with rough pounding, especially when he brought one hand forward to fondle the place where they came together.
His eyes glowed as he watched her tumble off the edge at least four times. At last the slow movements became too much for him. He needed more. He murmured to her, she put her hands around his neck, and he turned them over in fluid, graceful motions.
Jack was sweaty, and needy. He pinned her hands over her head and bounced hard on her, driving himself as deep as he could. Moments later, he pressed his face into her hair and the beautiful sounds of his orgasm rang in her ears.
Chapter Eight - Content
He felt her leaving the bed, sometime in the early morning. He heard his small son cooing, then quiet again as she settled him. Jack never opened his eyes during this, never came up fully from the depths of sleep. He knew instinctively that he was safe here.
The sun was much brighter when he was awakened again, by Teague's sounds once more. He wasn't crying, just babbling and cooing. Jack rose from the bed and looked for his clothes. Sarah had taken the ones he'd left on the chair last night, but not touched his other effects, so his gift to her was still secretly buried. She had left another pair of trousers for him, very similar in color and style to his usual pair.
Pulling them on, he padded into the alcove and looked into the cradle. Teague was kicking his legs and had freed himself from his blanket. Chubby fists waved aimlessly in the air as he burbled contentedly to himself. Seeing Jack's face appear over his, he grinned a gap toothed baby smile and held out his arms.
The pirate couldn't help grinning back and reaching down to scoop up the tot. Father and son gazed at each other with identical deep brown eyes for a few minutes. Jack was remembering his own mother, wife of a pirate, his own father, captain of a magnificent huge-ish vessel. He had some rather painful memories of his childhood. What kind of father would he be? What would this Teague think of him when he grew older?
Little Teague broke the somber mood by hicoughing, and lying his head on Jack's shoulder. Jack closed his eyes and cuddled the child close, feeling in that moment that he would do anything, absolutely anything in the world, to protect this child and keep his affection.
He walked around the room looking at the various things Sarah had acquired while he was gone, and talking whimsically to his son. Looking out the window, he saw Sarah and Esther in the yard doing wash. For a moment he and the boy watched as they wrung clothing out of the steaming washtub and hung them on a line. Jack spotted his bandanna already hung up.
Sarah wiped sweat from her forehead, wishing she'd thought to tie her green scarf around her head before she'd started this task. She glanced up at the bedroom window, wondering what her boys were doing. When she went into the room a bit later, she discovered Jack lying on the unmade bed, balancing his toddler on his stomach. The baby was chortling and rocking back and forth, making a game of trying to catch the shiny trinkets in Jack's hair.
Her husband wore a smile of delight and contented peace in his eyes. He grabbed at his son's little fingers whenever they came too close to a bead or jewel. Seeing Sarah in the doorway distracted him, and the baby finally got hold of something, the large silver bangle next to Jack's ear. He crowed with delight and bounced back and forth.
Jack and Sarah both laughed aloud at his simple glee. "It's so good to have you here Jack. Though I'm afraid our simple lifestyle here can't compare to the adventures of being at sea."
Jack frowned. "No worries on that score darling. Take doldrums for example. The quietest day here is definitely an improvement." He glanced at her. "And I have your delightful company, that is by far the best part of shore leave, my love."
He rolled suddenly, scooping Teague off his belly and standing up. Setting the child down to crawl around the floor, he moved to the chair and picked up her gift, solemnly presenting the cherrywood box to her. "As promised Sarah, a bit of me plunder for you."
She began to say something but it was lost when Jack flipped it open. The first thing she saw was the black pearl necklace. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes flew to his face. He rocked back on his heels, inordinately proud of himself. "My God Jack, it's beautiful!"
"There's more," he said softly, near wiggling with excitement at how she'd react to the rest. He adored giving things to her, whether in bed or out, her reactions were so genuine and joyful.
Sarah lifted the necklace carefully out of the box and looked beneath at the loose collection of emeralds, pearls, and diamonds. She gasped. "Ohhh!" she breathed softly, not daring to move a finger towards the display, merely biting her lip as she admired it.
"Come darling! Let's get your necklace on, see how it looks gracing that lovely throat of yours!" Jack set the box aside and took the necklace from her, moving behind her to fasten it. Almost absently she held her hair aside for him. He nipped at her neck when he finished.
"Got a few for meself too. Going to put them in my hair." He continued. "Well? You've not said whether you like it or not."
"Jack, it's absolutely dazzling. Thank you so much! Truly, you being home is a gift in itself. You hardly needed to bring such riches, but it's wonderful that you did!" A grin crossed her face. "Tell me a pirate story Jack! How did you come by such lovelies?"
They settled side by side, crosslegged, on the bed. Jack described his adventures for her, and for little Teague who continued to cruise the room pulling himself unsteadily to his feet on all the available furniture. "And they demanded breeding stock of us, with no guarantee that we would be well treated."
"What did you do? Did you provide babies for the warriors?"
"What choice did we have but to agree?" A sly twinkle in his eyes. "We celebrated with rum. Do you know, those women had never tasted any kind of alcoholic beverage? Well, needless to say, though I will say it, the copious amounts of rum we consumed in celebration of our status as studs, put the err, ladies, fast asleep very soon." Sarah broke into uncontrollable giggles.
"And they woke to find that their fine new breeding stock had sailed off in the night. Well, three or five might have remained behind, out of love for the work offered." He endeavored to look as innocent as possible, a look he really couldn't pull off very well.
"So tell me love," he cleared his throat. "I meant to ask you before, but I was busy being imprisoned. What, exactly, does your inheritance entail?"
The mention of his imprisonment made Sarah wince, though it had seemed at the time a necessary step to take she didn't like that he'd suffered even a moment of being caged. It was clear by his tone though, that he laid no blame at her feet so she swallowed her twinge and answered. "My mother was a midwife as you already know, and my father was a barrister. A very good one, who traveled a good deal. My mother rarely was able to join him on his travels though, her work kept her far too busy. At any rate, they enjoyed the finer and more comfortable things in life, and spent their time acquiring them.
"My inheritance is not so much cash assets per se, as it is valuable properties. In other words, I now own two other homes, as well as all the furniture, draperies, clothing, silverware, china, and jewelery within."
Jack's eyebrows rose to great heights on his bare brow, reminding him that he needed his bandanna back to look even remotely respectable. Gesturing that he'd be back in a moment, Jack quickly went to the yard, fetched his red cloth, and took the stairs two at a time to return to her. Settling himself once again on the bed, he focused his attention on grooming himself back to the carefully cultivated appearance he kept up.
"Well....two other homes. Hmmm. That'll come in handy, I'll reckon," he muttered to himself as he tied the long red tails and began braiding the large mop he'd left out. "And where exactly might those two other homes be darling Sarah mine? England, perchance?"
"I grew up in Spain Jack, that's where one of the homes is. Spent very little time in England, besides, that home was sold...to pay for my parents funerals." Her voice trembled a bit. "The other house is in France."
She broke off not because Jack was no longer listening; she knew he was even though he was no longer looking at her. Sometime he gave every appearance of disinterest while every sense was sharply gathering information. Just now his eyes were peering sideways at his son. Teague had pulled himself up to stand holding on to the foot of the bed and was looking at his mother.
Jack gathered himself, catlike, slid down onto the floor, and crawled on all fours along the bed to the corner just around from Teague's face. A slow smile spread over Sarah's lips as she watched Jack play with little Teague. He kept absolutely still for several seconds, then suddenly leaped forward into the baby's line of sight, crying, "Rowr!" in a comical, exaggerated, lion's roar. Teague jumped in surprise and screamed with joy at the marvelous new game. He insisted with baby determination that his "dada" play it again and again, and Jack obliged him happily.
Chapter Nine - Lifestyle
That set the pattern for Jack and Sarah Sparrow's life. He would sail anywhere from three to nine months and then return home. In the evening, when he could watch her spectacular sunset dances. They would go home, he would bathe while she settled Teague, then they would make love and talk drowsily until sleep came. He usually stayed an average of four to six months before the sea longing got too deep for him to resist.
He got used to the routine of landlife. There was the garden to be tended to, shopping for fresh produce every other day, washing every week, and the hundred other little chores of a household. At the center of it all was baby Teague, prince of the Sparrow family.
Before he could even properly walk, Jack would scoop him up and carry him around on his back. When Jack returned the second time, he brought a rope and began teaching him to tie knots. His long slender hands patiently placed over the small fingers, showing him how again and again. On his third trip home, he brought a small pair of blue boots, a perfect fit and a miniature replica of Jack's own, though how he knew the right size was anyone's guess. It was usually Teague who first spotted his father in the crowds after sunset, and would run to him with a happy gleeful face, to be swung up and placed on Jack's shoulders.
Though Teague was the center of attention and his every milestone and accomplishment celebrated, he was not spoiled. When he was disobedient, his mother would simply tell him "no." If he responded with tears or tantrums she simply turned her back on him, ignoring him if he continued to whine. But his smiles and laughter and agreeable responses brought her back to him, smiling lovingly into his face. Only on a few occasions would she need to call him sternly by his full name, "John Teague!"
When he sailed away the second time, he did indeed bring Elizabeth and William Weatherby with him, to search for the Flying Dutchman and Will. He returned three months later with an ecstatically happy Elizabeth Turner. She described to Sarah how they had finally found Will by searching for shipwrecks, and the two ships anchored together off Rumrunner's Island, with boarding planks between them and the two crews giving themselves up to jollification.
Sarah bought another Morgan horse, a brown stallion she whimsically named Harold. She bred Penny to him and she had a beautiful little foal which Teague fell absolutely in love with. His mother relented and instead of selling the colt, she gave it to her son. He named his horse Blaze.
When Jack sailed away the third time, his wife and child joined him. The little boy was three years and a half years old by then, a sturdy lad with olive skin, high cheekbones, deep brown eyes, and wavy black hair that was long enough now to be tied back. There was no denying who that child took after.
Sarah told Jack she wanted a look at their other homes. The inheritance presented a unique legal dilemma. Since Sarah was a woman, she could not legally be landowner. Yet the will her father drew up clearly stated that Sarah Deverleigh was his sole heir upon her marriage. She acknowledged her marriage proudly, yet protected Jack from imprisonment and a death sentence.
Jack watched from the helm as Sarah held Teague's hand and taught him to balance by allowing him to walk the rail, a thing Jack had shown her during their honeymoon. "Daddy, look at me! I'm not fallin'!"
He grinned happily. "So I see!"
"Daddy! I want a hat like yours Daddy!" the child shouted gleefully.
"You shall have it, my son. A really big one!"
Jack's eyes shifted to his wife. She was a vision of beauty to him, dressed in trousers, a feminine gypsy blouse, with her wild black hair flowing free. He recalled how she looked in their cabin last night, one flickering candle picking up the gleam of her skin as she rode him hard. She still wanted to tie him up, he still wouldn't let her. He did grasp hold of the headboard and let her have complete control, and she pleasured him until he was hoarse from moaning.
They arrived in France. The house was stunning, it looked like a mansion. Within, Jack found riches to satisfy even his greedy pirate heart. "It wouldn't do to let me crew see this place, not at all. Not if you want to keep hold of the majority of this stuff."
Sarah glanced up from her sorting of the silver and candlesticks. "I fully intend to set a fair amount of this aside as booty, my Captain."
He dropped the teapot he had in his hands and stared at her. Her lips were twitching. "Have I told you lately that I love you? Truly, deeply, wonderfully?"
"I believe you did...last night in bed, in fact. Only it sounded more like, 'Oh Sarah, I can't stand it! Right there, ohhh, don't stop!'" She hastily set down the utensils in her hand and darted off with a naughty smile, her husband hotly pursuing her.
Unsurprisingly, their game of tag took them into the bedroom, however, the tapestries and rugs distracted them. Sarah flung open the closet door. "Jack! I think...some of my father's clothes might fit you!"
A half hour later they were transformed. Sarah minced back and forth in a pale cream gown with rosettes of pink. Jack admired himself in a full length mirror, wearing a linen shirt and a deep blue velvet waistcoat. A bottle of fine wine from the wine cellar sat on the walnut bedside table. He uncorked it and poured two goblets full.
Sarah held hers high. "To always having everything our own way!" They clinked glasses and drank deeply, celebrating their love and family along with their riches.
Sarah spent some time sorting it, packed quite a bit of it in trunks which were put aboard the Pearl, and offered some of the less fine clothing to the crew. For herself and Jack she chose several fine and several more ordinary sets of clothes. The majority was transported back to Florida. Before they set sail again, Jack disappeared, then returned a short time later with a leather tricorner hat, sized for a child. It was a bit large for him, but that didn't matter. The hat instantly became Teague's most precious possession.
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"Come with us Jack. We have something to show you!" Elizabeth had come to visit, and the two ladies looked every bit the high society females they were not, complete even with lacy parasols. Arm in arm they strolled with Jack to the docks. A beautiful junk lay at anchor, lacking only a figurehead, a name, and a full crew.
"I want to buy this vessel Jack." Upon her quiet words Jack began inspecting the said vessel with a critical eye. Only when he finished and nodded his cautious approval did he question why.
"There are many wonderful things in this world, that even you, fine pirate that you are, cannot plunder. So I thought I'd send a ship with the things I have no use for and trade them for the things I want!"
Elizabeth chimed in then. "We hoped you and Mr. Gibbs could help us find a good crew for her, when the time comes for her to sail."
"I see." Jack's voice was cold. "Trading means one thing love. The East India Trading Company. THEY control the merchant routes." He paused. "Planning on working for them, are you?"
"Of course not." Sarah waved a dismissive hand and Jack's face lost a bit of it's sternness. "Look at her! A small ship, the better to slide under the notice of the Company and do a little illegal trading. I want you to look after this ship, to use your abilities as pirate lord and master of the finest ship in the Caribbean, to protect it from pirates while she carries valuable cargo."
He looked back and forth between the ship and Sarah. "My my. What an enterprising woman you are, my dear!" The planes of his face were soft and happy as he moved close to her and gathered her into his arms.
Elizabeth raised an astonished eyebrow. Though buying the ship with her friend, she hadn't known Sarah had planned to ask Jack for immunity for the junk. Such trust she placed in him, such blind confidence. She envied a bit that interplay. Sarah had never known the Jack she had, she had only ever been presented with his honest qualities.
She turned her back on their tender moment. Tears stung her eyes and her arms hung dead by her side. Why should she move them, when there was nothing and no one she could hold? Her eyes fell on her bright haired son, playing off in the distance with the dark child of Jack and Sarah. Oh yes, to be sure. She must go on for her son's sake, though she sometimes had no interest in living at all. She was in that moment almost insanely jealous of her friends behind her.
Was Jack a better man because Sarah chose to see his qualities and not his faults first and foremost, and therefore Jack was more likely to be that in Sarah's presence? Or was it that Elizabeth had misjudged him? Certainly he had showed no qualms about lying both to her and to Will. Of course, Jack had been desperate for his very soul at one point in their adventures together and was being hemmed in by the world on all sides. After all, this was a very peaceful time for Jack. Love had done much for him.
The ship was purchased, with Joshua as the agent. A carpenter was commissioned to carve the figurehead, and a week later it was finished, a lady who held a dance pose almost exactly like that of Sarah's, but her face and hair and smile identical to Elizabeth. Jack held a bottle of wine poised above the prow, and Sarah gave him the signal. He smashed the bottle over the prow and proclaimed, "I christen you, the Sarah's Swann!"
He sailed with Elizabeth a week later, unknowing that it was into danger.
Chapter Ten - Absence
Sarah stopped pacing and groaned, bent over as another pain hit hard. Esther bit her lip, looking worried. She would not stop pacing, and the contractions were too close, the baby still riding high in Sarah's belly. It was not going well.
"Are you sure? Are you sure she is not there?" the dark haired woman asked urgently.
"Yes Sarah. Elizabeth's house is dark, just as it has been for months now." Esther answered as gently as she could.
The laboring woman sighed. Her head hung down on her chest. "Where IS he? Where is Jack?" she whispered miserably. Tears flowed down her face.
Somehow, she must have let go of her tension and despair, because with the next contraction her water broke, the baby finally dropped lower, and Sarah got ready to push.
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Esther spotted him first, not long after the lunch hour, walking slowly up the lawn to the front door unheeding of the revealing daylight he'd always been careful to avoid.
"Sarah! Joshua! Teague! Jack is coming!"
Sarah rushed out the door to meet him, her son right beside her. She nearly ordered him back to the house but could not quite bring herself to. She had never held him back from his father.
As Jack drew close to her, he looked with surprise at the little girl she held on one arm. Before he could say a word in greeting though, Sarah gave the toddler to Teague, drew back a hand and slapped him soundly across the face.
Even through the pain of his cheek, Jack was more amazed it had happened at all. Sarah had never struck him, never even raised her voice in so much as irritation at him. He accepted her slap though.
"Where have you been!" Each word was measured in cold anger and fear. "It's been two years since I last saw you Jack! Two YEARS! Elizabeth and William have been gone as well. I had no idea if you were alive or dead!"
He stood before her, head lowered. "Apologies Sarah. It could not be helped."
The soft sad cadence of his voice made her look closely at him. Now that her anger was spent and her fear of his death was reassured by him before her alive and whole, she could let it dissipate in the wind. Deep circles unrelated to his kohl smudges deepened his eyes. His cheekbones protruded. He looked bone deep weary.
She realized suddenly that he was not hanging his head in shame, but studying the baby girl clinging to her elder brother. The child at a year and a half was just able to walk. Teague regarded him with serious eyes, biting his lower lip at the violent interplay between his parents.
Sarah softened even more towards Jack. "This is Mary Elizabeth Sparrow." she said simply.
As if she'd given permission, he dropped to one knee and opened his arms. Teague surged forward with a glad cry, pulling Mary along with him. He buried his face in his father's neck and hugged him hard enough to choke. Jack's brown hands stroked up and down his son's back, pulling him closer and closer with every squeeze. The little girl was caught up in the embrace. Her mouth was partially muffled by Jack's sleeve but Sarah clearly heard the word "Papa?" from the garrulous child.
"Come inside." She grasped his hand to pull him through the door and was startled anew. His wristbones were clearly outlined under his skin.
He sank down in the cushiony armchair nearest the fire, dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Mary climbed right into his lap, grunting with the effort of her short limbs until Jack, not even looking, grasped her and pulled her up. She cuddled herself into his chest. Teague settled himself on the arm of the chair.
The weary man's lips curved upwards. He stroked the dark waves of the little girl's hair. "She knows me."
It certainly seemed to be true. Sarah knelt before the hearth. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving." There was quiet desperation in that answer. Sarah ladled a bowl of stew from the kettle hanging over the fire, and with her eyes bade Esther to fetch bread from the kitchen. Joshua also hovered near, looking deeply concerned.
Jack took the food after shifting Mary to the other arm of the chair. He literally gobbled the steaming soup, eyes intent on the food. Sarah poured him a cup and handed it to him. "Rum."
He finished in record time. "More?" she asked quietly. He nodded gratefully and downed the rum, holding out his cup for more of that as well.
Having finished his meal, he spoke quietly. "I would like to sleep, if I may. I'm very tired."
"Darling, this is your home, and you may do as you like. It is so very good to see you again." As hard as she tried, Sarah was not able to keep the quaver from her voice.
He leaped up from the chair, stepping swiftly to her and crushing her into his arms. One hand cupped the back of her head. She heard his breath hitching irregularly against her ear. "Sarah, my Sarah," he murmured over and over.
As afternoon wore on, the three adult members of the house kept peeking into the bedroom where Jack sprawled sideways across the bed. He lay on his stomach, one hand outflung, the other lost beneath the dark spill of his hair. He did not move, but sometimes moaned as if in terrible pain. They talked in hushed whispers about what might have happened to him. Joshua offered to check once more on Elizabeth Turner.
That night after the children were put to bed, Sarah crept quietly into the bedroom. She swiftly undressed and as she began to slip her nightgown over her head Jack spoke, making her jump.
"Don't know why you're bothering to put that on love. I'm only going to rip it off."
She looked at him and he was sitting up, watching her with glowing eyes. As she stood there, he stood up and began hastily undressing. "Sarah, don't look at me like that, with those wounded eyes. It's still me, I'm the same man as ever. Just a little more scarred, that's all."
Her eyes followed the animal grace of his body, searching out these new scars he spoke of. She saw no wounds or new broken jagged lines. The sight of his bare body awoke the old hunger for him just as it always had between them. He was already firmly erect. Dropping the silky nightie to the floor, she rushed to him and pressed herself desperately against his body. The absence of the last two years made her rough.
Jack held her between his legs while he sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her everywhere between her chin and her hips. One arm curved around her waist and his hand pressed into the small of her back. With the other he cupped a breast tenderly, laving his tongue over the nipple, making her toss her head back and gasp, hands fisting tightly in his hair. He moved gently to the other breast.
Sarah opened her hands and gently caressed Jack's head. His warm breath puffed over her skin as he moved down to her stomach. His lips grazed lightly over her body and his mustache added to the sensations. Sarah felt the velvet warmth of his erection rubbing against her inner thigh. She moved her leg back and forth to stimulate him further. Jack cried softly, the sound buzzing through her skin.
He slid down the bed to the floor, holding her hips, and kissed her even more passionately. Her thighs were nipped, he slid one hand to her buttocks and nudged her legs apart with his other hand. She was beginning to whimper now. With his tongue he parted her netherlips and stroked between them. She cried out, heat flowed over Jack's lips, and he moaned throatily. His tongue delved deeper. His smooth hair stroked over her thighs, cool bangles bumped frequently into her, making her shiver.
She tipped her head back and opened her legs for better balance as well as to give him greater access. She was spiraling quickly out of control. She had been so long without him. Apparently he felt the same way, for she could feel and hear him making hungry sounds of pleasure. Like a child with a longed for treat, shaved ice and syrup maybe, he moaned and whimpered his sheer delight as he lapped her sweetness.
He sat on his naked butt leaning against the bed, Sarah above him, head tipped back and driving his tongue between her legs over and over and over. His hands gripped her thighs just below her bottom, supporting her weight as she began to fly apart for him. He struggled to wait, to hold himself back just little more, to enjoy that sweet magical sound of his name a sob on her lips.
She did it, a cry that was his name, and he could not bear it, felt that he would burst apart and he must be inside her when he did. He was so ready. Jack pulled his head back and brought her down on his lap, impaling her soft body. They strained together, but could not quite find the necessary rhythm that would release him. He growled, pushed her away, and stood up. Pulling Sarah to her feet, he then pushed her face down on the bed so her legs dangled off the side.
In a moment he was on her, still standing but with his knees bent slightly so his hips lined up with hers. She was ready for him, more than ready, and pushed her bottom back against him. He uttered a cry, and drove himself deep, shoving her even harder into the mattress. All gentleness was gone now. They were rough, wild, mating like animals.
Jack took a hard grip on her hips and pumped hard back and forth into her bottom. His face wore a snarl of effort, beads of sweat dripped down onto Sarah's back. She could not move, could barely offer him any leverage to push against, could only lay flat beneath his hammering hips and scream into the blanket. Jack growled, cried out, growled again, and then he was flying. Rough sobs broke from his lips and his arms trembled as his body spasmed in bliss.
Afterwards, he gathered her tenderly into his arms, moving them up to the pillows and cradling her. He buried his face in the place of his refuge, her silky dark hair. She fell asleep to the sound of him breathing in her scent, and his hands caressing slowly over her back.
Chapters 11 - 15
