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Title: Baked Apples
Author: heartofslash
Fandom/Pairing: POTC, The Pirate Way, (Elizabeth/Alex)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I made all this up, playing with other people’s creations and my own. Alex is Jack Sparrow’s sister, and while she looks remarkable like Johnny Depp, she’s not Johnny Depp and not real at all.
It does help to be familiar with The Pirate Way. But if you’re not… oh, hell, I can’t explain it all. If you’re not familiar with The Pirate Way you won’t understand half of what’s happening, but the sex will still be sex, so if you like f/f give it a whirl.
Dedication: For pir8fancier , who fancies the ladies, or at least these particular ladies.
Baked Apples
Melted sugar and cinnamon dripped over Elizabeth’s fingers slowly. Hot, but not hot enough to injure, only hot enough to smart. The flesh of the apple, crisp when she’d sunk the knife in to remove the core, was now a soft, almost a liquid, filled with juice and flavour.
Elizabeth sucked a finger into her mouth to taste, to feel tongue on her finger, and to tease the woman sitting across from her.
“You’re a wicked wench,” Alex whispered as she delicately cut into her baked apple with a silver fork. “Most wicked.”
Elizabeth licked at a drop of sugar at the corner of her lips. “Am I now?” she asked innocently. “I’ll have you know I’m nothing of the sort. I’m a respectable married woman, wife of an admittedly disgraced captain, but an officer nonetheless, and daughter of the governor.”
“Wicked,” Alex repeated. “Wench.”
Elizabeth blushed.
“And lover of the sister of the most notorious pirate in the Caribbean.”
Elizabeth blushed deeper.
“And past love of the lover of the most notorious pirate…”
“Don’t say such things!”
“It is true.”
“It can’t be!”
Could it? Elizabeth was torn. She had entered into a relationship far beyond friendship with this extraordinary woman, yet she clung to a childish, romantic notion that Will still pined for her, even though she’d seen the evidence to the contrary for herself, and heard stories from Alex.
“Elizabeth, let’s not start that again.”
“What?”
“Acting like a princess. All the young men in the land do not seek your hand. You are not the fairest of them all. And no prince will ride in on his flashing white steed to rescue you from the dreariness that is your banal existence. ”
Elizabeth giggled. She couldn’t imagine Will Turner as a knight on a white steed. Shoeing the white steed, perhaps…
“Well… you are the fairest of all, but you’re mine, so the knight cannot have you!” Alex pushed her apple aside and swooshed around the table in a flurry of crimson silk. Elizabeth was more than happy to be pulled to her feet and pressed against that slender but strong torso.
Thoughts of Will Turner and white steeds disappeared at the touch of Alex’s lips to hers. As did any desire to finish dinner at the table.
She followed Alex up the stairs.
“Are you going to forget about the boy?”
What boy? Elizabeth had already forgotten, hadn’t she? “Who? Oh, Will.”
“Mm, yes, Will. Am I to compete with him forever?”
Alex stood elegantly, one hand on her hip with the wrist bent at an angle that reminded Elizabeth of those fingers trailing up the backs of her legs.
“There is no competition,” Elizabeth assured her.
Will’s hands were rough, and he did not know how to touch gracefully or tenderly. He fumbled. His skill lay with iron and swords, not delicate female flesh.
“I hear he is beautiful,” Alex said, with a maddeningly teasing flavour to her tone.
Elizabeth watched Alex reach back to begin the process of unhooking her dress. She sprang to help, and found her fingers shaking slightly, but not badly enough to prevent the removal of the garment.
“Well?”
“Why would you care?” Elizabeth asked.
“I want to know. My brother is, from all accounts I’ve heard, utterly taken with the boy. I assume he is beautiful, since Jonathon always had an eye for the beautiful.”
Elizabeth would never become accustomed to Jack Sparrow being referred to as Jonathon; she was sure of it. She thought about Will. “He is tall and slender but strong.”
Alex nodded and shrugged the gown off her shoulders. “Tall and slender. That would go well with my brother. He’s so delicate and pretty.”
Elizabeth coughed. Alex often described Jack that way; had been a long time indeed since Alex had laid eyes on him. “Um, Jack… Jonathon, probably does not look the way you remember him,” she suggested.
“I would hope not. Pretty young thing like that would be taken advantage of horribly by pirates. All that flowing black hair and porcelain skin and big, innocent eyes.”
Elizabeth choked on her breath.
Alex laughed. “I’m only teasing, love. I know he has changed. I’ve heard about the hair and the beard and the kohl and the… pirateness.”
Elizabeth began working on the tiny laces of Alex’s undergarments.
“I’m sure your Mr. Turner doesn’t look the same as the last time you saw him either,” Alex said with a playful tone.
Elizabeth was sure he didn’t. She hoped he didn’t. He’d looked so miserable the last time she saw him. Sad and beaten. But still beautiful.
“He has lovely eyes,” she said suddenly. “Brown eyes full of emotion. Soft when he is vulnerable, hard when he is passionate. And a beautiful face, though not as beautiful as yours.”
Alex smiled and kissed Elizabeth’s fingers as they brushed over her dark lips. “I have heard such talk from others, and I am happy for my brother, but I am much more happy for me. Let me help you with your dress.”
Elizabeth sighed. The dress. Dresses. So uncomfortable, so restrictive. She had experienced a day and a night in trousers and jacket, in the clothing of a man, and she yearned for the ease of movement, the freedom those clothes allowed her, and would do so for every day of her life.
At first, when she and Alex had only kissed each other, embraced fondly, touched fleetingly, the dresses were no bother. But now she wanted to be naked, to feel her lover’s entire body against hers, and these dresses were a barrier.
“Hush, love, stop fussing. I know you hate all these layers, but if one is to move about in society, one must make sacrifices. As you said, we are respectable ladies.”
Elizabeth’s dress fell to the floor, revealing a thin chemise.
“More or less respectable,” Alex added.
Elizabeth shivered.
Alex leaned in and kissed the hollow of Elizabeth’s throat. “Completely disreputable, actually,” she murmured. “And wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Elizabeth tilted her head back and sucked in her torso to make it easier for Alex to slide the chemise down.
“Such willowy beauty,” Alex whispered and pulled Elizabeth toward the bed. “Let me explore you once more.”
Alex did things to Elizabeth that Elizabeth had never even thought of, let alone done before. And Elizabeth was learning to do them back to Alex, perhaps not as skilfully but with great enthusiasm.
Elizabeth spread her legs and closed her eyes to better concentrate on every little kiss, every lick, every tender nibble and stroke of the tongue. Alex worked her way down, pausing at firm breasts and ticklish ribs, laving the curve of Elizabeth’s waist, lapping at her navel, soothing her twitching stomach with long licks, a stomach that twitched in anticipation. That spot between navel and golden curls, right in between, where the gentle slope of her stomach dipped in suddenly, was so very sensitive to kittenish nips.
And then Alex’s mouth descended on her most sensitive parts. Elizabeth splayed her legs wantonly and pushed her hips up, so warm wet flesh and soft lips and probing tongue met. This was a bliss she had not known existed until Alex introduced her to it. The first time she’d been shocked. Alex had soothed her and told her to trust, trust and close her eyes and feel.
Elizabeth had felt. Oh, yes. She had felt an explosion within, so powerful it left her shaking and close to tears.
Heaven.
She was learning to coax that from her lover as well. Every moment spent together taught her something new. She tried to concentrate, to learn her lesson well, as Alex’s tongue parted her folds and caressed her all over. Dainty fingers pulled sideways, exposing her more, making her more sensitive, and the tip of one circled the little nub that was at the centre of this new paradise.
Elizabeth gasped when tongue joined finger to circle around and around, without direct contact. A touch would be too much, so much it would be painful. This was teasing and tantalising and growing pressure and joy. A finger slid inside her and seemed to caress the same spot from within.
“Oh, yes,” she sighed. “Please.”
Alex pursed her lips and hummed around where her tongue had been licking. She crooked her finger and rubbed gently inside.
Oh, how could this woman do this for her, so easily, so quickly, so perfectly? It had to be some kind of magic. Not the bad, curse kind of magic. It was a blessing. Enchanted. Exploding.
Yes, exploding. The muscles between her legs tensed as one and the pleasure spiralled in on itself, a dizzying eddy. She barely had time to moan before the tension was released, flew from her, taking her breath with it.
Alex did not stop. She gentled her movements but persisted, until Elizabeth felt that delicious pressure building up again and began to hiss at Alex to never stop.
Alex could keep her on this edge forever. Build her up, shatter her, gather the pieces and repeat the process all night. But not tonight. Alex sped and kept up a brutal pace, bringing her to that crest over and over, pushing her until Elizabeth felt the room spin around her. When Elizabeth cried out, almost a sob, unable to bear the constant clenching and throbbing, the pleasure expanding past the boundaries of her body, threatening to tear her apart, Alex gentled her quiet again.
“Hush now, love, it’s all fine now,” Alex cooed in her ear.
Elizabeth turned to taste herself on Alex’s damp cheeks, to suck her own honey from Alex’s tongue.
They stretched together, warm flesh pressed close. “Shh, no, don’t…” Alex stopped Elizabeth from moving down the bed and reciprocating. “Stay with me. I want to kiss your lips and feel your breath on my face.” Alex moved her leg over Elizabeth’s thigh and rolled her hips forward. Wet heat spread across Elizabeth’s skin.
Alex rocked gently at first, increasing in tempo as their kisses deepened, thrusting harder against Elizabeth’s thigh when Elizabeth’s hands found her arse and squeezed roughly. “Oh, yes, my dear…” Alex crooned in her ear.
Elizabeth writher under Alex and gasped when the heat on her thigh turned searing. Something about the angle, the pressure, made Alex shudder, moan, bite Elizabeth’s shoulder. She moved swiftly, impossibly gracefully, spreading the wetness across Elizabeth’s skin, grinding down, softly growling just before Elizabeth felt the wetness grow even more.
Alex panted against Elizabeth’s long throat. “So lovely,” she sighed.
Elizabeth moved her leg experimentally. Alex shivered in response.
“Almost too swift,” Alex said breathlessly. “I’m sorry to have rushed like that, love.”
Elizabeth could not see anything for which to apologise and said so. “Why the hurry?” she asked after sighing of the joy she’d just experienced.
“My brother is here. He will come to see me soon, once the town sleeps.”
“Your brother? Jack is here?”
Alex shook her head. “No, not that close a brother. But if you follow my brother to his lover to his lover’s stepbrother… he called me sister when we met.”
“When did you meet?” Elizabeth asked.
“Last night, after you left. I met him at Marina DeMaurier’s house.”
Elizabeth shuddered to think of her lover in a house of ill repute.
“Don’t be so proper! After what we just did…”
“What we just did was personal,” Elizabeth said. “You going to that… that brothel is public.”
“No one saw me. Just as no one saw Alphonse.”
“Alphonse? You told me Lieutenant DeMaurier was Will’s stepbrother!”
“He is, and Alphonse is his older brother. He’s a charming man. A rogue preacher.”
Elizabeth felt the loss keenly when Alex rose form the bed.
“He’ll be here soon. Please get dressed. I want you to meet him. He has news of Jonathon… and Will.”
“I don’t want to know of Will, or Jack, or any pirates at all!” Elizabeth had completely lost her taste for pirates. And naval officers. Men in general, if truth be told.
Alex rummaged through a trunk at the foot of the bed. Elizabeth had not noticed the trunk when they came in. She shot a hand out to catch the shirt Alex tossed in the air.
“Never mind with the complicated dress, love. I know you prefer something simple. These trousers will do nicely.”
Elizabeth caught the trousers with one hand. “You want me to dress like a man when I meet this person?”
“No, I want you to be comfortable for the journey. Alphonse is going to take us away from here. Take us to where Jonathon and Will are living. To the place his whole family is living, except Marina.”
Elizabeth got out of bed but did not don the clothing. “Are you mad? We can’t just leave. I have a husband and a reputation and a life here!”
Alex stopped buttoning her blouse and stared at Elizabeth. “And look at you, standing in the middle of the room naked, when a scant month ago you were shy about me merely looking at your breasts. Elizabeth, you have changed. This isn’t your life anymore. Your reputation is a lie, and your husband abandoned you in practice, if not in name, long ago. We can leave and we will. Tonight. I have everything you’ll need. We’ll simply leave.”
Simply leave. Get up and go. Abandon everything she knew. Disappear. Vanish from the face of the earth.
And she did. For a time.
End
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