Title: The good Bargain Author: Melusina Feedback: melusina@culturalinfidelities.com Series: Besieged: Part 1 Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Jack/Norrington Beta: Thanks to jelazakazone and hija_paloma for their beta help. Warnings: Not exactly non-con, but headed in that direction. Bondage. Besieged 1: The good Bargain
* * * James eyed Sparrow suspiciously. "An exchange?"Sparrow moved a little closer, and his voice dropped to an intimate rasp. "Even trade. I do something for you, you do something for me, and we're square." James truly meant to step back, but somehow he found himself stepping forward instead. "You're hardly in a position to bargain. . .Captain Sparrow." This concession prompted a raised eyebrow and a sly half-grin. "Ah, but I could make it worth your while, savvy?" Shackles clanked as Sparrow's hand slid up James' thigh and settled on his hip. Upon reflection, it seemed somewhat ungentlemanly to arrest a fellow wedding guest. Perhaps some leniency might be in order- James flushed as he realized what it was he was considering. "What makes you think I have any interest in what you're offering?" Dark eyes glittered knowingly and Sparrow leaned in and brushed his lips against James' - a featherlight touch that made something hot and thick coil in James' gut. The small room where he'd confined his prisoner suddenly seemed too close and over-heated. He started and shoved Sparrow away, harder than he'd intended. Sparrow swayed and nearly fell, then caught his balance, smirking at the reaction he'd provoked. James made an effort to collect himself. "I did think you had some honor, but it seems I was mistaken. Really, Sparrow, whoring yourself out for your freedom? Have you no shame at all?" Sparrow's eyes went distant, just for a moment, and then that irrepressible grin was back. "It's precious at any price, love. 'Sides, I like the length of my neck just fine - don't need it stretched any." James had an unbidden image of Sparrow hanging on the gallows, his graceful neck broken and that pink, darting tongue grotesquely swollen. It was unsettling, to say the least, which was really very foolish; after all, what else had he planned to do with Sparrow when he caught him? This question brought another, entirely different, sort of image to James' mind. Clearly, he'd had far too much rum punch. He shook his head in an attempt to banish the lewd thoughts that had settled there. "Damn you, Sparrow, why did you have to be lurking around today? Do you think I want to give Eliz- Miss Sw- Mrs. Turner a reason to dislike me?" He rubbed viciously at his forehead, trying to untangle the mess Sparrow'd gotten them both in. "I'd rather not ruin the Turner's wedding, if it can be helped. I doubt they would appreciate me hanging you as the grand finale to their celebration." Sparrow waited patiently, managing somehow to look entirely self-possessed and in charge of the situation, despite the chains on his wrists and the bruise blossoming on his cheek. His tongue flickered out and touched the curve of his lip, leaving a wet shine there. James sighed. Possibly the situation could still be salvaged. No one knew he'd captured Sparrow. He could simply unlock the shackles and set Sparrow free. Pretend he'd never seen the man and get on with his life. Yes, that seemed to be the safest plan all around. Decision made, James reached for the key, but it appeared to have gone missing. He patted his breeches and his waistcoat in a slight panic, but found no sign of it. Looking up, he saw Sparrow, free from the shackles, twirling the key around his finger and looking like the cat that ate the canary. Rage surged through James and he closed the distance between them. "I thought we had a bargain!" "I thought you weren't interested in what I had to offer, mate." The challenge in Sparrow's voice was enough to push James over the edge. He grabbed Sparrow's shoulders, shoved him into the wall and kissed him brutally, bent on taking charge of the situation and wiping that smirk off Sparrow's face. Sparrow's mouth was yielding, soft and wet and enticing, and tasted like the Governor's best wine. James could get drunk on this, on the thrill of Sparrow giving in to him, on the faint whimper Sparrow made when he pulled back. Sparrow attempted an echo of his usual mocking grin. "We have an accord? You have your way with me and I go and sin some more?" The compliant look in Sparrow's eyes unleashed something dark and sinful that James had been holding at bay. He pressed the length of his body against Sparrow's and murmured in his ear, "I'll have my way with you, and then I'll decide what happens next." He sank his teeth into Sparrow's ear lobe. "Savvy?" The languid way Sparrow's body melted into his was more gratifying than James could have predicted. If they were going to do this, then, by God, they were going to do it right. Sparing a grateful thought for the caution which had caused him to lock the door, James tore at Sparrow's clothes, determined to get all that he'd bargained for. Sparrow reciprocated, and soon they were rubbing their bare bodies together wantonly, relishing the feel of skin against skin and the slick heat of their cocks sliding together. Under the swagger and bravado, Sparrow was a surprisingly small, lean man. The bones in his wrists - caught tight in James' grasp and pressed against the wall - were as delicate as a lady's, although his hands were rough and stained with tar, unmistakably those of a sailor. Someone was whining, whimpering, and James realized with shock that he was the one making that desperate noise. Sparrow spun them around and pressed James into the wall and then sank to his knees and took James' aching cock in his mouth, sucking and licking, holding onto James' hips with a bruising grip. James writhed and squirmed, trying in vain to thrust deeper down Sparrow's throat. A stream of babbling, pleading words fell from his lips, ending in a strangled, frustrated cry when Sparrow stopped abruptly and stood, looking at James with wicked, gleaming eyes. "Are you sure you want to be doing this, Commodore? I wouldn't want to compromise your ethics. A good man like yourself, how will you live with the shame?" In response, James grabbed him and turned him around, spinning them so that Sparrow was facing the wall, trapped by the arm wrapped around his chest. "I'll manage somehow." He fumbled with the lamp on the table beside them, then slid his oil slicked fingers into Sparrow. The tight heat made James shudder in anticipation, even as Sparrow let out a guttural moan. He slid another finger in and moved them around, taking vengeful pleasure in making Sparrow twist and beg. The need in Sparrow's voice sent shivers down James' spine. Unable to wait any longer, he buried himself in Sparrow's body, thrusting hard and fast. A vestigial sense of fair play prodded him to wrap his hand around Sparrow's cock, and Sparrow gasped and arched his body. James nipped and bit at Sparrow's shoulder, smothering his cries against the sweat-drenched skin. Some part of James was appalled and shocked by his rash, inappropriate behavior, but he willfully ignored it, shutting out everything but the sensual pleasures of the moment - Sparrow's body grinding against him, the musky sex smell, and the animalistic noises they were both making. Sparrow tensed and shook, and James fell right behind him, spilling himself into Sparrow's body and biting down hard on the nape of his neck. Spent, they braced themselves against the wall, each attempting to catch his breath. James pulled out and turned away to avoid meeting Sparrow's eyes. Suddenly filled with self-loathing, he hurriedly pulled his clothes back on. "You'd best go through the window. You've a clear shot to the harbor from here." "We square?" Sparrow's voice held a note of hesitation that threatened to crack James' hard-won reserve. His voice was harsh with the effort of controlling himself. "Go. You have my word that I won't follow." There was no answer except for the rustling of Sparrow's clothes and the creak of the window sliding open. James waited, facing the opposite wall, until he heard a muffled thump and the sound of feet running into the night, then turned to look out the window. By that time, there was nothing to see in the darkness. It was as if Jack Sparrow had never been there at all. [Continued here.. Besieged 2: 'Fish on the Line'] |