James grins breathlessly, the heat in his body rushing southwards, pooling at the point of connexion between himself and Sparrow. The pirate was not expecting that, he can tell, from the wide, blinking eyes and the sudden huh of breath he lets out. Oh, it's empowering, this, the sight of Sparrow splayed out beneath him.

Completely at your mercy, whispers that little voice in the back of his head, sounding now suspiciously like Sparrow himself, and James bites at his lip, moaning a little, low in his throat. He looks down at Sparrow, giving him a grin that he hopes is only slightly mad, and pressing their hips together. No motion, just a constant, steady pressure, as if to remind them both of the position they are in.

'Oh, there are many things I did not learn in the Navy, Sparrow,' he breathes, 'And in. Surely you should know... some regulations are not as strict as they are made out to be.'

He leans down then, propping his arms on either side of Sparrow's head, mimicking the pirate's stance of moments before, leaning close, close, and breathing wickedly: 'And as for what I'm doing? Well,' he snorts a little in derisive amusement, 'There are only so many things a man can do in this position.'

A pause, and then a sudden thought strikes.

'Savvy?'