The absentness of that admission makes James think that perhaps Sparrow has let slip here a bit more than he would ordinarily, but the hunger, the sheer lust in the pirate’s gravely voice makes it difficult to concentrate on possible strategic advantages. No- James can put as much scheming as he likes into this, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that this is something deeper than that- it’s lust, to put it bluntly; sheer, feral desire for the man in front of him.
When was the last time he had given into that sensation?
Whores in Singapore and the Indies, yes, whores at home in England as well, but with a prostitute there’s a sense of duty, almost; pay the girl, do your thing, get it done. There was none of this strange spontaneity in those dalliances.
James quite liked this. And he can tease as well as Sparrow, oh yes, but with that last comment about persuasion, it seems that the teasing was drawing to a close. He is not entirely sure how he feels about that; his body is certainly clear enough in its feelings on the matter- the swirling, dizzying arousal in his veins and the heat pooling in his loins seem almost to be screaming at him to just jump Sparrow, but-
Sparrow’s leg brushes against his thigh, higher this time, and all thoughts of ‘but’ leap out of his head in the surge of molten heat that suddenly flares in him. Sparrows face too close to his, that voice murmuring deliciously, sinfully indecent, and James shifts in his seat, his gaze fixed on Sparrow as the pirate teasingly plucks the orange from his grasp and leans back triumphantly, lips and tongue wrapped around one clever, browned finger in a way that ought to be illegal.
His thoughts are swirling so close to the edge of coherency, and he can feel his face flushing madly, but mustering his Naval calm he looks at the man before him and clears his throat. He leans back in his chair.
‘Very well, Captain,’ he murmurs, his own voice rough with desire, ‘Persuade me.’
no subject
The absentness of that admission makes James think that perhaps Sparrow has let slip here a bit more than he would ordinarily, but the hunger, the sheer lust in the pirate’s gravely voice makes it difficult to concentrate on possible strategic advantages. No- James can put as much scheming as he likes into this, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that this is something deeper than that- it’s lust, to put it bluntly; sheer, feral desire for the man in front of him.
When was the last time he had given into that sensation?
Whores in Singapore and the Indies, yes, whores at home in England as well, but with a prostitute there’s a sense of duty, almost; pay the girl, do your thing, get it done. There was none of this strange spontaneity in those dalliances.
James quite liked this. And he can tease as well as Sparrow, oh yes, but with that last comment about persuasion, it seems that the teasing was drawing to a close. He is not entirely sure how he feels about that; his body is certainly clear enough in its feelings on the matter- the swirling, dizzying arousal in his veins and the heat pooling in his loins seem almost to be screaming at him to just jump Sparrow, but-
Sparrow’s leg brushes against his thigh, higher this time, and all thoughts of ‘but’ leap out of his head in the surge of molten heat that suddenly flares in him. Sparrows face too close to his, that voice murmuring deliciously, sinfully indecent, and James shifts in his seat, his gaze fixed on Sparrow as the pirate teasingly plucks the orange from his grasp and leans back triumphantly, lips and tongue wrapped around one clever, browned finger in a way that ought to be illegal.
His thoughts are swirling so close to the edge of coherency, and he can feel his face flushing madly, but mustering his Naval calm he looks at the man before him and clears his throat. He leans back in his chair.
‘Very well, Captain,’ he murmurs, his own voice rough with desire, ‘Persuade me.’