all islands in a common sea

JACK

"To a point, I'll agree," Jack retorts, though in all honesty he can't recall objecting to anything she'd asked of him whilst he'd been handcuffed and her mouth had been around his cock. Distractions will do that, apparently. Glancing fleetingly over his shoulder as he passes by on the gangplank, the captain makes a show of letting calloused fingers dance across the rope securely tying her furled sails, tugging here and there, letting his touch ghost along the colourful canvas.

Of course, neither of them expects his checks to go beyond that (even that is a cursory excuse), and his footsteps echo dully on the steps down to her cabin. Jack has enough time - just - to slip off his glasses and set them down, to savour the allure of her thoughts as they turn wicked and molten, before her hands are on him and he's pulled down against her waiting mouth.

Her kiss is like water to a man dying of thirst in the desert, Jack wasting no time in tasting the sun and sea on her tongue for himself. One hand grasps at her hip, guiding her flush against his body as he edges her back against the counter, the other gliding beneath the soft fabric of her sweater like this is a dance they've choreographed. Humming a low note of approval to find nothing between his clever fingers and her bare flesh, his thumb sweeps beneath her breast, pert and perfect, before teasing across her nipple as if to hint at what his mouth might do if it were there instead.

you're the last of a dying breed; write our names in the wet concrete
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

Code stolen from Queen Sky