i look fly, i look good

JACK

"Swimming as well," Jack objects, smiling a kiss just above her navel and arching a wicked brow up at her while his hands carefully but confidently peel the leather away from her hips and thighs, until he can discard the pants completely. "Though I can't promise that corset would've survived this far," he adds, eyes closing as her fingers tighten in his hair and the seas of her mind turn rough, turbulent, expectant.

He almost surges back up towards her then, keen to taste her lips anew and see how high he can crest those waves. Almost is as far as it gets, though; Jack doubts he'd really be able to pull himself away even if a fight broke out up on the deck. Instead, warm fingers hook beneath her underwear, tugging them down and tossing them aside. "Just you wait," he purrs, dropping a kiss against the inside of her knee, and nudging her legs apart a little further.

Whether she wants to lay back or to watch is something he leaves entirely in her hands; Jack already knows where he's headed either way, lips almost caressing the inside of her thigh, hands growing gentle, careful in every reverent touch.

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