Chapter 11: Against The Cold

A/n: Sooooo. This is that chapter I had in mind that has decidedly shifted this story from a hard T to a soft M. Kids, this is where you get off. It's been fun, but please. Brush your teeth, wash behind your ears, and stop by when you turn 18. Adults, fasten your seatbelts, next stop Mild Smutland.

Elizabeth met up with Jack and Barbossa in the woods, and they walked and walked until they could no longer hear the sounds of the Spanish camp. "My men are somewhere up ahead, but I dare say I am tired of stumbling around in the dark. I says we camp here and leave at first light." Barbossa was loathe to show weakness, but his stump troubled him when he walked on it for too long.

Jack and Elizabeth were so exhausted they brooked no argument. Elizabeth changed out of her dress and back into shirt and breeches, just in case they had to jump up and run for their lives, which was more likely to happen than not. They bedded down in the leaves, hoping mosquitoes, scorpions, and other creepy crawlie beasties of the jungle would not take too much of an interest in them for a few hours of shut-eye.

Soon Barbossa's snores joined the symphony of night sounds in the jungle. Jack too seemed to settle down into a snooze, his breathing becoming deep and regular beside her. Elizabeth too attempted to fall asleep, but the adrenaline rush of their adventure paired with an uncomfortable chill in the late night kept her awake. She scooted closer to Jack, hoping to stealthily snuggle into his warmth without disturbing him.

Naturally though, Jack was a light sleeper, despite exhaustion. Dark eyes flew open, turning to regard Lizzy with question. "I'm cold," she whispered, and gladly he opened his arms to her in answer, turning on his side to face her. She snuggled into the shelter of his chest, feeling small and ridiculously secure in his arms, despite the threats looming all around. Their legs tangled, and Elizabeth sighed contentedly against the triangle of open skin at his chest, warmth spreading through her that was part shared-body heat, and part something less material. "I could lay in your arms forever," she told him sleepily, and Jack's heart did a little flip in his chest.

He kissed her forehead in answer. It was ridiculous what sweet words from this woman had the power to do to him. Unable to stop himself while holding her so near, Jack's fingers gently traced the line of her hair at her temple, the curve of her ear and her long swan's neck. Elizabeth shivered, thrilled by his touch. More heat bloomed deep in her belly, and she sighed against his neck, planting a kiss upon his Adam's apple.

"Jack…" She meant it as a protest, really, but it certainly didn't come out that way.

A wicked smile curled his lips at hearing her voice taken on such a velvety tone under his tender ministrations.

"Lizzy?" he answered, his body shaking a little with a silent chuckle. He loved her like this: surrendering and pliant. Who knew it was even possible? It was a victory, surely, but also just… Good Lord.

His clever hand migrated down her waist, slipping beneath the loose hem of her shirt. Christ, her skin was smooth. Elizabeth arched against him as he drew slow patterns upon her spine, torturously inching higher and higher. She could feel that she was not the only one aroused by his touch, a rather distinct hardness now poking at her hip.

"What about Barbossa?"

"Dead asleep," Jack assured her, and the peg-legged pirate snuffled as though in acknowledgement.

Jack's hand travelled down again, barely grazing the skin of her spine, winning yet another undulating arch against him that made his manhood throb with wanting. His fingertips dipped into the waistband at her backside, and a small strangled sound escaped her as he cupped her bare ass cheek in his large hand, squeezing appreciatively, pulling her against him. There were more silent chuckles at her reaction, and a taunting reminder of "Shhh, the mutineer is sleeping."

"Insufferable man," she hissed back, though not with terribly much conviction, her hands fisted in his shirt for want of something to keep her grounded amidst this floating joyful feeling.

"Am I?" Jack propped his head on his bent arm, and intent to prove her wrong, Jack's hand slid around to her front, climbing her ribcage to cup her breast. How happy he was that she hadn't taken the time to re-apply her bindings. And how perfect was that soft mound of flesh, that fit so well in the palm of his hand. He teased her nipple into a taut point, his smile broadening as she arched and panted as silently as possible. It was like a game in a way, a deliciously naughty little diversion.

When she thought she could stand no more his hand travelled down the taut flesh of her torso, delving into the downy thatch of curls between her legs to find her weeping center. She was so wet that it was Jack's turn to stifle a groan, a harsh breath releasing into the top of her hair. He could not stop himself from dipping a finger inside her, made dizzy for the tight moist heat of her sex.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan, and reckoned Jack would drive her mad when his fingers began to circle slowly upon that sensitive nub of flesh between her legs. Everything became shrouded by a warm haze, and as it went on she began to care less and less if she made noise, if she woke Barbossa, hell if she brought the whole Spanish army down upon them. Any embarrassment quickly faded into utter abandon in his hands. Sensing her surrender in heightening passion, Jack covered her mouth with his, hoping to stifle any sound and desperate for her lips besides.

Elizabeth's hands dragged down Jack's torso, marveling at the wiry muscle beneath her fingers. He was beautiful, so beautiful, and two could play this game. Deft fingers undid the ties of his breeches, freeing his burgeoning manhood into her hands. He was warm a so velvety soft, straining against his own skin as though even that part of him reached for her. Gently she squeezed, earning a low grumble from deep in Jack's throat. When she squeezed harder and stroked him up and down that grumble turned to a stifled groan. "Fuck. Lizzy…"

"Shhh…" she teased him breathily, smiling at the opportunity to feed him his words. Had she not been so quick to change out of her dress they may have had more options, but as it was Elizabeth was determined that they should both have this sacred pleasure of each other, at least once. Because she was not a naïve young miss anymore, blinded by the excitement of her first real adventure. She knew all too well that they could easily both die tomorrow, or in an hour, or in the next five minutes…

With questing fingers she explored the lines of his taut cock, the ridge of the hood and the pulsing vein upon the underside. A powerful urge gripped her to put it in her mouth, curios how he would feel on her lips and tongue, hungry to see him as lost to pleasure as she felt with his clever fingers between her legs. Next time, she told herself. There would be a next time. She was determined to make that so.

"I would give a King's ransom to be inside you, love," Jack whispered in her ear, and she squeezed him with the sultry thought, winning another low curse that made her chortle quietly. Determined to make her pay for that, Jack touched her with a bit more pressure and determination, and she was rendered putty in his hands once more. In tandem they moved together, their pleasure heightened ten-fold in the act of sharing it. Only when Lizzy suddenly arched violently against him, her mouth agape in a silent scream, did he allow himself to let go too. Blinding pleasure washed over him as he came into the palm of her hand, and he smiled as he felt her body pulse against his fingers.

Racked by aftershocks and smiling like idiots, they looked to each other from inches away. "You are beautiful," Jack mouthed, winning an eye roll and a satisfied smile from his lady. Her grin widened even further when he produced a handkerchief from somewhere in his effects, cleaning her hand of his creamy white seed.

"I always knew you were a gentleman deep down," she murmured against the skin of his throat, snuggling against him once more. It was Jack's turn to roll his eyes, though he too smiled contentedly, pulling her closer.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was laughing softly into his chest.

A/N II: You might find it hard to believe it's possible to catch a chill in the jungle, but as a veteran of rainforest trekking/camping I can indeed tell you it sometimes gets surprisingly chilly at night. Heh. Thank you for reading, and as always, your comments make my day! :)