Reilly's cock up coupled with Edward's fierce protectiveness of the ship had led the latter to double his shifts. While his refusal to leave the Irishman alone at the helm, until he got better, placated his worry for the Jackdaw, it kept him from other activities - ones they were both very keen to engage in. Once he'd finally stumble into his cabin, Emma would usually be asleep; or if she wasn't, he hadn't the energy to 'perform.'

The resulting frustration had left her to skirt around him in an attempt to keep their hands off each other. It was for the best, she knew, despite the temptation to give in; if they wanted to get their duties done proper, they would have to wait to satiate their needs. Edward, however, was a man with limited patience and a taste for self indulgence who pursued what he wanted with steely determination. Why separate work and play?

Consequently, when the mornings found them together, she would end up - in some shape or form - cornered in their cabin.

"I can't," Emma tried to reason as he embraced her from behind, leaving a trail of kisses along the crook of her neck. The bastard did not mess around and went straight for the spots he had realized were her most sensitive. "I have to get the galley ready."

"Cortez can handle it."

Edward stroked down her sides and began to untie her sash; it took all her willpower to swat his hands away.

"True, but Ade's been looking for you. Best not keep him waiting."

"Let him, for all I care."

"Ah, you've never quite grasped the importance of punctuality."

The speed he spun her around with would've knocked her off balance had he not held onto her. Two fingers came under her chin to tilt her head up, and Emma came to face his lackluster glare with a smirk.

"Don't get haughty with me, sweetheart."

"Or else you'll cut my tongue and feed it to me?"

A shadow of a dangerous expression crossed his features which made her wonder if perhaps she had gotten too cocky with the last comment. Besides Hornigold's man on the island, she heard him utter a similar line only once before; to an old Spaniard cooped up in a fort they had taken - Edward was all smiles then, but the gesture held no humor, only threat. Yet, instead of a reprimand or a flash of temper, he merely scoffed at the tease and kissed her roughly on the lips.

"I can think of better uses for your tongue, despite its habit to cut your own throat with its cheeky sharpness."

Save for some minor grumbling he let go without further argument and stepped aside, but walked her to the cabin door, hands firmly on her behind.

"Now that's booty."

With a roll of her eyes and an exasperated groan, she shook her head - the least she could do was let him have the moment. Given the jokes around the Jackdaw about the Captain and his 'full mast' after he had rushed out to shout down Reilly, it was the least fun he could get out of the situation. Emma couldn't blame him for his impatience. In the end, it was hardly his fault they found themselves in their predicament and she could relate to his mood; her composure was also stretched incredibly thin.

Their schedules changed a few days later when they spotted a jewel of a merchant galleon not far from Serranilla, tailed by three escort vessels: two schooners and a frigate. The beauty and size of the prize, combined with the challenge of the encounter proved irresistible for Edward. After hours of tactical pursuit, they engaged the convoy just as they neared the Devil's Backbone, as the sailors called it; a tight succession of channels littered with an array of jagged rocks that jutted from the ocean, making navigation perilous. Except their good Captain was an exceptional helmsman and sailed through it with surgical precision in an attempt to bait the ships to give chase.

The frigate unexpectedly sank itself in a narrower passage as it cut a corner too close and got its hull torn clean open. Due to the maneuverability their size gave them, the two schooners easily caught up to the Jackdaw. However, even with their combined firepower they couldn't withstand the strength of forty-six cannons and soon disappeared under the waves too.

Without her escorts, The Duchess, lowered her flag on sight when they returned. Her crew, together with the owners - a wealthy merchant and his wife - were cut loose in boats to row towards the nearest port a few miles off. Through toil and trouble, the ship herself was sailed to a cove, her cargo too great to be taken out in the open. She was beautiful too, with her intricate woodwork and exquisite sails - something that had caught Edward's eye and he planned to repurpose her for his fleet.

Emma had never taken stock on a ship that massive before and spent long hours in the galley until she had everything marked. With only a few details left to be written down, she was just about finished when Cortez came to tell her el Capitán had asked to see her.

The first glimpse of the captain's cabin on The Duchess left her awestruck. Its gorgeous rugs and polished floor made her kick off her boots, the footwear too mucked for such luxury. Once on the plush carpet, she wiggled her toes and grinned like a child at the sight - the lavish furnishings were fit for a mansion and felt almost unusual on a ship. Yet despite all the details, one item in particular piqued her interest the most: the heavy set canopy bed against the nearest wall. Emma leapt face first onto the soft velvet covers and lay sprawled out ungracefully for a good few minutes. Her fingers trailed over the elaborate brocade on the fabric with acute interest before she impulsively grabbed the heavy material and rolled over, wrapping herself completely in the duvet with an enthusiastic squeal.

Curled up into a comfortable position, she wondered if they could fit the bed onto the Jackdaw. Probably not; not unless they wanted to be stern heavy.

"Enjoying yourself, then?"

So engulfed had she been in the opulence that she had completely forgotten about Edward. When she looked up, she found him seated at a desk as baroque as the rest of the decor. With pipe in hand and a cheshire cat's smirk on his face, he regarded her from behind a pile of various trinkets. They were both magpies, Emma thought; they just had different tastes in shinies.

"It's an experience to indulge in the other side of the life you came to know best, eh?" Edward chuckled at her sheepish smile, then took a drag of the tobacco before he nodded towards a tall armoire across the room. "Reckon you might find something you fancy in it."

It was evident the merchant liked to parade his wealth, along with looking fashionable, since most of what he owned was expensive and strikingly well made. Unsure where to wear them as they seemed a waste to be spoiled in the galley, Emma settled on the simplest garments from both the husband's and the wife's cabinets.

At first she concentrated on shirts and breeches, since they would be the most practical for her while on board. The material was softer than what she was accustomed to and the stitches more flamboyant, but those unfit to be worn could be easily repurposed for more personal uses during sensitive times. Towards the back of the closet, she came across a dark navy jacket with intricate golden embroidery around the cuffs, as well as down the front from the collar. It came accompanied by came a cream colored vest, and finally, a fine white shirt with lace frills from its neckband.

"Edward?" Emma presented her find with a cheeky smile. "You should try these on."

He gave one look to the ensemble and scoffed with an eyeroll.

"Not bloody likely."

With a dramatic pout, she set the outfit down and went back to resume her search. The merchant's wife did not prefer her clothes simple, that much she could tell after one look at the variety of different gowns. Unless the Jackdaw's crew got miraculously invited to a governor's ball, it was unlikely she could wear any of them at all - a pity too, they were gorgeous.

However, when one particular piece caught her attention, her eyes widened. Decorative was a bit of an understatement; more like extravagant, given the color of that gown. A few shades off a truly vibrant red, the previous lady of the ship was sure to turn heads when dressed in it. Emma struggled for a moment to unhook it, but when she pulled it free, the design's full glory came to life. The lacework roses around the sleeves and corset - slightly deeper cut than usual, making its form brazen - must've taken ages to create with their elaborateness. Even without the underwire, the dress was massive thanks to a number of skirts.

"I want to try this on." She pulled her treasure into view enthusiastically.

Edward arched an eyebrow when he saw what she held in front of her, and lowered his pipe.

"Quite daffy. Will suit you just fine."

"Oh, piss off." He was lucky everything in the cabin was potentially valuable or she would've pelted him with a shoe - one of the less nicer ones, of course.

As his attention drifted back to the logs in front of him, Emma stepped behind the room divider and began to undress. In the safety of the cove the pirates were in no hurry to empty the ship, which gave her the liberty to take as long as she pleased. Something she would need as gowns of that size were usually a team effort to put on. The stockings were the easiest, followed by the linen shift with its front laced corset and thin underskirt. To achieve an impressive cleavage, the shirt was cut deep, the breasts hoisted high by a tightly boned bodice. On top of that, she clipped three different waist slips to give shape to the final product before reaching for the decorative silk petticoat.

Almost done, Emma grinned as she draped the top layer of the gown over herself and slipped her arms in. However, while the size difference of the previous garments were easy to ignore, it now became quite obvious as she tried to pin the stay together. The merchant's wife, based on what she had seen, had an hourglass figure with a prominent bust and hips. Those, all by themselves, wouldn't have been too problematic. It was the size of the waist that bothered her the most, as she didn't have years of training to be able to fit herself into a corset that small.

Try as she might, the two sides would not come close enough together for her to fasten. Frustrated by the set-back, she stepped out from behind the divider.

"Help me."

Edward looked as if he was about to make a comment, but had the shred of decency to stay quiet at the exasperation in her voice. With a slight tilt of his head, he examined the gown and came up looking confused.

"What's wrong with it?"

"I can't get it closed!" She tugged on the fabric furiously to illustrate.

"It looks fine -"

"No! I want it proper!"

Amused by her aggressive sulk and the little huff, he sighed and got up.

"Jaysus, alright. Come here."

He seemed to have expected the matter to be resolved quickly since he approached her with his usual cockiness. But once they began, it became clear he had underestimated the challenge. They had gone through various different positions in an attempt to pin the corset together, to no avail. By the end, the seams have started to weaken from Edward's forceful jerks and the sound of stitches snapping became more prominent with each heave.

"I can't breathe." Emma panted while she held onto the edges of the navigation table, her face red. The two lowest clasps could be conquered after some battle which, however, only made the bodice squeeze her tighter.

"It's either breathing or looking pretty, love. You can't have both in this."

"I think...I think I'll just leave it open."

"Just a few more bloody tries." Edward growled as he yanked on the material. It seemed he had become more annoyed by the prospect of being defeated by a dress than she had been in the first place. He stepped back and gestured for her to wrap her arms around his neck. Exhausted, she complied and rested her head on his shoulder, which allowed him to focus on the problem again. Given the pressure on her, Emma couldn't help but breathe heavily under his ministrations. Then, with a grunt, he pulled the corset the tightest yet and she choked out a half-strangled moan.

The struggle stopped as she felt his form stiffen under her.

"Put a cork in it, will you? I can't concentrate."

She barely had enough breath in her to reply.

"You can't seriously be getting randy over this."

Edward grumbled under his breath about suggestive sounds, but stopped his endeavor once she began to complain about severe dizziness. With gentle movements, he guided her back against the navigation table and unpinned the stay. In his warm embrace, Emma coughed for air while his hands rubbed down her back to soothe any soreness the overtight bodice might've caused.

After a few minutes of rest, her attempt to undress herself was cut short.

"It's alright, I'll do it."

For whatever reason, it seemed even the removal of the gown was more difficult than she had expected. No longer restricted, her nausea gradually abated which enabled her to join in on the effort to get free from all the petticoats. She untied each and he dropped to his knees to shimmy the material down her legs, then held her hand when she stepped out of them. However, with each layer removed, he inched closer to her. Emma's face flushed, this time not from the iron grip of the corset, but from the sensation of nimble fingers working over her thighs and calves.

Once the final slip came off, Edward stood, his eyes locked on hers and his hands skimmed up her sides until they came to rest on her hips. They were finally alone, the pirates too busy with their duties to come looking for them. A smile that showed she knew exactly what was to come curled her lips as she slid one of his hands down onto her arse.

Edward's smirk was every bit as keen as hers, and when their lips met, neither of them held back - which, at times, made her feel like they were eating each other's faces.

A little more emboldened than she had previously been, she let her hands roam over him. His muscles felt solid even under all the armor he was clad in; something that made her give into cheeky temptation and pull him against her while she groped at his behind. The gesture seemed to catch him off guard, since he barked a short laugh into their kiss.

However, all his amusement vanished when he reached to pry her out of the last corset and came to note the intricate lacing. Edward's gaze turned intense as he assessed the situation. Then, he sprung into action so fast it took her brain a few seconds to register that he had moved in the first place. With a fluid flick of his wrist he cut through the front smoothly, and his hidden blade slid back into its place while the bodice fell to the floor. Still taken aback by his precision, Emma stood motionless; he slyly brushed the shift off her shoulder, then took a step back to enjoy the garment's slow descent down her body.

Edward looked positively ravenous as more of her skin got revealed. Once the chemise hit the rug, - leaving her completely naked in front of him - he began to disarm and his belts landed with a heavy thud.

His leisurely movements gave the impression the pace would be set after his own whim. Yet despite the hunch, when she crooked a finger to beckon him over, he was on her in an instant. Amidst passionate kisses, Emma began to unfasten his robes, only not as fast as she would've liked. Perhaps later she could familiarize herself with the specifics of his armor to overcome them more efficiently.

Edward broke away to pull his shirt over his head after he was stripped of his coats; however, by that time, she had unlaced his breeches and reached down to take him in her hands. He groaned, low and guttural at the contact, but swatted at her hands, then he picked her up so she was sat on top of the navigation desk.

Maps flew everywhere in a flurry and the carpet got stained by the spilled ink when he cleared the clutter from around her with one decisive swipe. Emma's attempt to shimmy backwards was cut short by Edward's firm hold on her thighs. The next thing she knew, he had pulled her back to the edge of the table, her legs spread wide to accommodate his form between them.

She took pleasure in the sensation of his bare skin on hers, then began to arch into his touches, her own hands roaming his body in a desire to explore. Initially he seemed content to settle above her while their lips moved against each other. When their tongues joined together, she could taste the sourness of the tobacco he had smoked, although somewhat diluted by the flavor of what she guessed was a heavily fruity liquor. A curious choice of drink, given his usual palate.

If the night they had gotten interrupted felt urgent, it had only become worse. Impatient with the pace he had set, Emma wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust up - a not so subtle nudge to urge him on. It almost worked, since he groaned, but stopped her before she could repeat the action.

"You don't do nothing subtle, do ya, love?"

The attempts to get him to seal the deal only got her a cocksure smirk.

"Not just yet." Edward whispered, his mouth hot on her skin as he started to trail kisses down her neck, then her chest, with thorough attention to her breasts.

Her breath hitched when he shifted her legs to rest on his shoulders, then suggestively licked across her lower abdomen. The devilish look in his eyes gave a pretty good indication of what he intended to do and Emma bit her lip almost painfully. When his head dipped between her legs, she almost yelled out from the sensation of his lips on her.

With a final throaty moan Emma collapsed against his chest, too tired and sore to move off from on top of him. Drenched in sweat and panting heavily, both of them lay still on the cabin floor for minutes until either of them had gathered enough energy to function properly. Finally, it was Edward who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down next to him. Tenderly, he shifted her head onto his shoulder, then draped one of her arms across his chest.

She had to admit her expectations had been completely off.

Instead of the merciless teaser who put his own pleasure first, he got his kicks differently. His selfishness found another outlet; it became obvious he had intended to show off all the tricks up his sleeves in a rush to bring her to climax as many times as he could. A continuous act of self-gratification - his name off her lips, her moans, and ecstatic shudders were all he needed to be spurred on. But, every time Emma caught a glimpse of his face, there was no mistaking the chief sentiment behind his expression. I'm the best you'll ever have.

Not that she wanted to dispute that claim. Edward was damn good. Even after he had found his own release, he would not let her rest and would be on her again once he was able. The sheer amount of stamina he had was impressive; the past couple of hours were a testament to that.

Still trying to catch her breath, she heard him snort to himself. When she turned her head to see his face, he grinned impishly.

"I reckon I'm better at making you breathless than a corset."

Emma rolled her eyes and groaned.

"I much prefer when you're not flapping your tongue."

"That's not the reaction I recall you having just a while ago."

Her advantage over him was two-fold. One, he only anticipated a verbal rebuttal to his comment, like she was prone to do. And two, the benefit of helping him get dressed inadvertently taught her the spots in which he was ticklish. So when she lashed out to poke him in the side, he convulsed and guffawed loudly.

From the position he lay in, it took Edward a few tries to end her relentless assault; but once he did, he slumped back against the floor, his face red from fits of laughter. Satisfied with her punishment, Emma dragged the top layer of the gown over them and pressed a peck onto his cheek before she settled in his embrace anew.