Skull and Dagger

Frank let out a sigh of exasperation; they’d had this same conversation every meal since she’d come on board over a week ago. “Look, sugar,” he began in a soft voice that attempted to cover up his growing impatience.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, frustrated, waving his hands in the air, “ I'm not your sugar’. Heard it a dozen times before…”

“Then maybe you should heed my request,” she hissed in a low voice, rising to her feet so that she could meet his eyes on a more level playing field. Of course, the effect was ruined by the fact that she still had to tilt her chin upwards…although not so much as on taller men.

He took a step into her, invading her personal space, trying to force her to back down. She refused.

“In any case,” he said with a snide little smile, “you’ve already eaten half our stocks. A bit more of that ‘stolen food’ you so refuse to eat isn’t gonna hurt anything.”

Annabelle's eyes widened at the audacity of his depiction of her eating habits, and she swung at him as fast as she could.

It wasn’t fast enough, however. He caught her fist just inches from his nose, deflecting the blow. She struggled against him, and he refused to let go, flashing that cocky smirk at her the entire time.

“Can’t quite figure out where all that food goes, though,” he teased, appraising her body in a way that made her cheeks burn. “You’re still a skinny, scrawny lil thing…”

“Scrawny?!” she exclaimed in outrage, swinging at him with her other hand. This one caught him by surprise and clipped him squarely in the chin.

His head snapped back, but he didn’t loosen his grip on her right wrist in the slightest. With an amused little smile, his free hand checked his lip and came away with a few drops of blood.

Heartened by the fact that one of her blows had actually done some damage, she swung again.

He was prepared this time and caught her easily. “You’re thin as a pole. Surprised the wind doesn’t blow you away,” he couldn’t help poking at the jibe that had irritated her so. “Need to fatten up a bit, fill out those curves…” He appraised her again and licked his lips.

“Pig!” Annabelle exclaimed, thrashing wildly about. She wasn’t able to break either wrist free, however, so she turned to the hard toes of her boots as weapons.

Frank leapt aside just in time to prevent his voice from permanently rising an octave before forcing her back up against the wall, trapping her legs effectively as he did so.

She squirmed helplessly against him, but with the wall at her back there was no place to escape from the hard warmth of his muscular body. Breathing was starting to become difficult and she had the sudden, irrational urge to just melt into his arms - both of which were obvious signs of near-fainting terror, she managed to thoroughly convince herself.

“I-I shall cry rape,” she said in a voice that sounding more needy - no, not ‘needy’, ‘SHAKY’, she insisted mentally - shaky than she’d intended.

She watched with something akin to fascination as his pupils dilated wide in response. His eyes turned a deep brown as he fully noticed their closeness for the first time. She was warm and soft and yielding against him, and he felt a burning heat between his thighs that he had gone far too long without…

“Who would come?” he countered, his voice a husky whisper against her ear.

Annabelle flinched at that. It was true; certainly no one on his crew would come to save her…even if they managed to hear… “Y-You promised you would not,” she reminded him nervously.

He pulled back slightly to look at her and gave her a little smile at that. “I did indeed,” he agreed in a voice that for one second sounded far more upper class than the one he usually used.

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline in response to the unexpected accent, but she made no comment. After all, she was still trying to determine whether or not she’d be ravished. The frightening thing was that there was this one little voice far in the back of her head that… She bit it back before the thought could even fully form.

“If I let you go,” the rough accent was back fully in place, “will you behave?”

“ ‘Behave’?” she repeated incredulously. She knew that she really didn’t have the right to make any demands given the compromising position he had her in, but…well, fighting this man every step of the way just seemed instinctive to her.

“Stop threatening my manhood and eat your food like a good lil girl,” he teased lightly.

“ ‘Little girl’?!”

“You havin’ trouble hearing’ me or something’?” he leaned in unbearably close so that she could feel his warm breath against her lips. “’Cause you keep repeating everything’ I say. Could always move in…closer if that would help…”

Her breath caught in her throat as he tilted his head to the side, bringing their lips into perfect alignment, and for a moment she thought he would… No, he pulled back instead, slowly releasing her.

“Your food,” he cocked his head in the direction of the tray.

She gulped slightly, taking in the strong form of his chest as it breathed heavily beneath his white silk shirt and then sharp lines of his cheekbones that just begged for her thumbs to run up and down them, and… She shook her head, snapping her rational mind back into control. He was obviously using physical proximity and her lack of experience to his advantage, and it was thoroughly despicable. Her eyes narrowed on him with new found fury.

He shrugged. “A week’s a long time to go without food,” he offered as his final argument before his closed and locked the door behind him.

Annabelle bit her lower lip and looked at the tray. There was a deep hunger within her - a craving - but somehow she didn’t think food would satisfy it.

Stop it! She scolded herself. You’re acting no better than a cheap whore!

What about Elizabeth? She countered. SHE’s enjoying the full ‘hospitality’ of our hosts. You don’t think her a whore, do you?

Even her strictest thoughts couldn’t condemn the young woman who had been her only friend after all those lonely years living in her father’s estates by herself after her mother had died. Slowly, she reached out to take the fork in her hand, her objections unnecessary now that the fun reason behind objecting was in the other room. She took her first bite and pondered the situation further. What about Elizabeth indeed…