To Sail the High Seas: Pirate England x Reader #Wattys2017

Chapter 8.5

Before returning to his cabin, Arthur Kirkland had been prepared to unleash hell upon the intolerable creature within; however now, with the woman cowering at his feet, there was some small form of hesitation hovering around in the back of his mind. He forced his face to remain blank as she looked up at him with large dewy eyes of the richest [e/c].
Keep it together Arthur.
The harsh words that had flown from his tongue earlier were nowhere to be found. In fact, the captain’s tongue felt very much like a leaden weight in his mouth which prevented him from speaking a word. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring down at her defenseless form, but he was entirely sure of the name for the turbulence he felt in the pit of his stomach: Guilt.
You have slain countless men, women, and children without batting an eyelid, and yet one measly glance from her and you’re no more than a clueless boy in a fancy coat. Get a fucking grip.
Racking his brain for something, anything, to break up the silence that had descended upon the room, Arthur finally recalled the bread he’d grabbed on the way back from dinner. It was originally intended to be a late night snack should the need arise, but…
“Eat.” The word came out much harsher than he’d intended, and yet there was nothing more to be said. Dropping the round loaf into her lap, he retreated to his quarters at the back of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Tossing his hat and coat carelessly across the room, Arthur collapsed on his four-poster with a quiet groan of frustration. He wanted desperately to claw his eyes out with a spoon to prevent ever having to see that woman show such a vulnerable expression again.
And yet…
No. He reminded himself firmly, there was no alternative “and yet”, he simply did not want to experience that face ever again.
But how good would it feel to have her show that innocent expression while you pin her down, hmm? To have those plump lips contort with pleasure as she screams your name, now wouldn’t that be fun?
No.
You could do it now. Just go back in there, and take her. She’d be powerless to stop you. Just imagine the cute little sounds she’d make as you run your hand up her smooth thigh and-
“No.” The verbal warning finally silenced the little voice, but Arthur found himself feeling far too uncomfortable with the scenarios that were now drifting around his skull.
“I’ve just been out on open water a tad too long; perhaps we should stop at the next port for a few days.” Still muttering excuses to himself, the captain decided to retire for the night. However, sleep would not come quite so easily. Staring up at the ceiling, Arthur wondered if she was asleep yet or if she’d be cold without a blanket of some kind.
Perhaps you should help keep her warm?
“Shit.” Mumbling curses under his breath, he rolled over and clamped his eyes firmly shut in an attempt to block out the whispers of temptation.
Face it, you want her.
There was no denying that, and he’d be a fool to try. Despite this fact, Arthur made no move towards the door, instead choosing to remain cocooned in his bed sheets. 
“It’s only lust, lust and deprivation. One short night on land can fix that.”
Why wait?
“Shut up.”
She’s right there.
“It’s just lust.”
And yet you’ve bedded women for less.
This, he decided, was going to be a very long night.

The week that followed dragged on in a monotone of busy days and restless nights. (Y/n) was distracting to say the least, but it was more his fault than hers. He found that his eye was drawn to her more times than he cared to count, and he’d caught himself several times wondering if she stole glances at him as he worked. If she did, he never caught her. Keeping the contact to a minimum seemed like the best course of action, and this worked… if only for the best part of two days. Her eyes appeared to be regaining some of that spark he so enjoyed seeing; however this was accompanied by questions and attempts at conversation.
It had begun one evening when he returned to his quarters. She were sitting at the side of the room as she had been the past few days and, as per usual, he had walked past without a word of greeting, only pausing to leave her evening meal by her feet. As he rose and turned towards his desk, her whispered voice broke the silence.
“Thank you.”
Arthur froze, uncertainty blanketing his thoughts. He’d deliberately given her the cold shoulder so as to prevent her from further worming her way into his affections. So why oh why had she persisted and even thanked him? He had done nothing to earn such words from her – the faint black eye she was sporting from the incident with Peter was proof of that. Turning his head fractionally he regarded her expression and could label it as nothing more than curiosity. So this woman wanted to see how he would react?
“Eat.” Something akin to disappointment flitted across her features, but she said nothing more and turned her attention to the food.