She donned her big coat, tied a scarf around her hair and set off. Glancing through the porthole she realized it looked exceedingly rough, but she reminded herself that if it had been too rough to take a walk, the captain would’ve had all the doors locked to keep the passengers and the crew inside. She pulled up her collar and tightened the scarf around her head.
“Isn’t it rather dangerous for a promenade?”
Rivers stood against the far wall.
A quick glance revealed he was in good health and hadn’t been unnecessarily bothered by the rough seas. Relief poured through her, relief and something else, something like liquid heat welling inside her. She turned to face him and leaned her back against the door to the deck.
“As you well know, I’m quite willing to court danger.” She flashed him a challenging smile. She hadn’t seen him in days and looked at him with fresh, hungry eyes. She noticed then how precisely the line of his hard cheekbones matched that of his brows. His face was dangerously handsome, his eyes sharp and focused. “Besides, the presence of your coat suggests you may also be considering the risk?”
He came closer and inclined his head, a smile hovering on his lips.
“Indeed…It appears that I, too, thrive on danger.” His tone was cynical, his smile insinuating. He put his hand on the door handle beneath her elbow. “Shall we?”
There was a devilish edge to his expression.
Their eyes locked, the question hanging between them. They both knew this wasn’t just about a dangerous promenade. No, the danger went much deeper than that. Something twitched inside her, a physical response, a yearning. She nodded.
His hand rested against her back while he eased them through the door and into the face of the dark, stormy night and the ensuing gale. Even through her heavy coat, the touch of his hand made her ache inside.
The gale immediately caught them off balance.
She found herself in his arms and looked up at him, gasping.
A sense of abandon raced through her. Oh, I feel such desire for him.
Was it boredom that diminished her sense of responsibility, causing her to step outside, into the stormy weather, into the arms of Mr. Peter Rivers?
His eyes glittered with pleasure and he held her close for a moment, before hauling the door shut behind them and reaching out for the railing. She clung to the rail along the inside of the deck and gasped at the strength of the wind, the icy air catching in her throat and lungs. Water sprayed at her, cold jets of rain and seawater.
He meshed her fingers with his and pulled her onward, into the elements.
Her free hand trailed along the rail, ready to grip for survival. She leaned into the wind, weighing herself against its powerful force, anticipating the lurch of the ship that would realign them.
They passed about twenty feet that way before he moved toward the outer rail, looking back over his shoulder. His hair whipped around his head and she couldn’t discern his features. The roll of the ship sped her toward the outer edge and she gasped when her body hit the rail with unexpected force. He grabbed her against him and she held tight to him, her body pressed hard between him and the rail for support. The roar of the ocean and the wind buffeting her made her as wild and restless as the waves themselves.
He nodded toward the sea. She looked over the edge of the rail and the crested tip of the waves emerged from the encompassing blackness of the ocean. It seemed to suggest, by its very closeness, that she could reach out and touch the waves. Her senses were filled with the experience, the physical nature of it. Her body and mind were locked into the jeopardy.
She twisted round to look up at the ship, to gain some awareness of solidity. The two funnels stood out against the dense sky. A huge light made sweeping arcs across the sea ahead. The bridge was illuminated and other lights dotted about on the decks above them glowed orange in the gloom.
Rivers had his arm around her waist, holding the rail on the other side of her body. He watched her face as she took in the experience. She turned to him, realizing she could see him better now, in the illumination from the lights on the ship above them. His eyes shone, his expression intense.
He spoke but his words were swept away on the wind. He jerked his head back, indicating they should move on. He led, drawing her in against the wall of the deck again. As he turned to make sure she was all right, her scarf flew up into the sky and her hand automatically followed its path. She looked back at him as it disappeared into the darkness of the night and was captured by the passion in his expression. She had a sudden feeling of significance, as if the scarf had torn away some facade between them. They were alone in the face of the elements. A deep tug of affection and desire anchored her to the man who stood watching over her, as if encouraging her to be as wild and free as the wind itself. Was she dreaming this moment?
Her hair leapt up around her, dancing with the wind.
Rivers guided her to one side, into a recess. She caught her breath, the force of the air was less fierce in the more sheltered spot and she leaned against the wall of the bay. A dim light from above illuminated them. He came closer. His eyes were glinting.
“Is this enough danger for you, my dear Eleanor?”
There was more than a question in his eyes, there was a suggestion, and a hollow ache inside her wanted to know what the suggestion was. Her hair was caught again, and wet strands of it whipped across his face as he came closer still. A sudden tremor ran through her body. It was as if they were both possessed by the chaos and passion of the elements.
“Perhaps not…” she dared to whisper. “What else had you in mind?”
Rivers gave a dark smile, his eyes on her lips. He ran his warm palm up the back of her neck beneath her hair, cupped her head, and pressed his mouth to hers.
The firm warmth of his lips on hers kindled a flame deep inside her, a flame that fired through her blood. Her response was urgent and immediate, his hard lips met by her soft, eager mouth. Their hands left the railing to explore each other. The urgency and passion in his kiss fuelled her, then they lurched apart with the roll of the ship and she laughed. Her hair danced up around her again, and she relished the sense of liberation coursing through her. He hauled her close again and kissed her earlobe, smoothing her wild, flying hair, then pulled back to look at her again.
“Pray tell me, why do you consider this to be dangerous?” She arched an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Things between us are fragile enough are they not, my dear? If we become...”
“Lovers?” she stated. There was a new directness between them now. Was it a gift from the elements?
He stared into her eyes. “If we become…closer, yes, it will change things between us, forever.”
He’d been thinking about the implications of this as much as she had. He did want it too. A thrill ran through her. “Rivers, things changed between us the moment you first kissed me, back at Oaklands.”
He stared at her face.
She smiled. “I wanted you then and I want you now.”
“And I you… you are an attractive woman and very difficult to ignore.” He sighed and brought her fingertips to his lips to be kissed. “If I were thrown overboard, my one regret would be that I had not done this again.” With that, he took into his arms once more and kissed her deep, long and hard.
Opening to him, she relinquished any last shred of resistance, casting it off into the night winds. She was giddy with arousal, reckless with abandon, thrilled at the mutual desire confirmed in his words.
“Take me,” she whispered.
He groaned, holding her tightly in his arms.
“Make love to me, Rivers, I want you to make love to me…”
“Do you know what you are saying?” His voice was low, a growl in his throat. His eyes were wild, his expression predatory.
She shivered, then nodded.
“Eleanor, it’s been hard enough being close to you, wanting to hold you in my arms and do just that…” His voice was hoarse. “That s
urely will change things between us.”
“Rivers, if it’s my honor you are concerned with…please remember I’m a grown woman, one who can make decisions on such matters.” She managed to speak with a lot more conviction than she felt. A momentary doubt had crossed her mind. Would he find her gauche and unsophisticated in the ways of lovemaking? Would he prefer a woman like Miette, a sophisticated, knowledgeable collaborator? She hoped with all her heart she wouldn’t disappoint and clutched him, physically reassuring him her desire was strong and her intention real.
He kissed her mouth, her face, and her eyelids. His body was taut with restraint. “Dear god,” he murmured. “I don’t think there’s any way I could turn away from you now.”
“Then it’s settled, let’s go to my cabin.”
* * *
Something akin to madness must have infected his blood, he decided, as he they hauled themselves back inside, their bodies wrestling with the sway. He pressed the door closed behind them and looked around. There was no one else in sight. He wondered vaguely whether he was going insane. He was going to bed her, that much was certain. This thing had gone too far to stop it now.
Eleanor sidled close, put her arm around his neck, and continued the interrupted kiss. She smelt fresh and alive and he tasted the sea on her lips. He wanted to strip her and crush her to him, to hold her lush body and lose himself inside her. He moved her up against the wall, lifting her easily against the hard surface. She gripped his collar in both hands, breathing fast, her eyes wide. He wanted to get her out of her coat, out of her clothes, to feel her need trembling through her naked body, to answer it with his own.
They moved along the corridor.
“No, wait,” he said, and led her different way, a short cut to the cabins along a service route, away from the passenger aisles.
When they were inside her cabin, she quickly raised the light of the lamps, unbuttoning her coat as she went. He stood inside the door, watching her from under furrowed brows. She dropped the coat in a wet heap on the floor and turned back to him. There was a moment of hesitation, a shadow of doubt. Then, as her hands reached for the buttons of his coat, it was gone, and they were both locked into the moment, unable to turn away from the desire that had set its course in their veins.
With a sigh of long withheld need, he lowered his head and kissed her. When she melted against him, everything was pushed from his mind except the hunger he had for her, the deep need that could only be satisfied by uniting them in the most intimate way possible. His hands crept around the outline of her bottom and pulled her close against him. She pulled away and her eyes blazed, beckoning to him, there was a shy nervousness in her expression too. His little wanton, she was such a chameleon. He smiled, pleasure running rich and hot through his veins.
He lifted her skirts while he kissed her. She gasped when his fingers plied beneath her petticoats and headed for her warmth. He found the slit in her drawers and eased his fingers inside.
“Oh my sweet, you are aglow.” His hips shifted, crushing her body against the wall.
“Surely we can make it to the bed?” Patches of color appeared high in her cheeks.
He was struck by the undercurrent of innocence and tenderness in her. She was everything at once, and he was hungry for her as he’d never hungered before.
“I fear I cannot wait another second to touch you in your most intimate places,” he breathed. His fingers stroked over her belly and tenderly slid into the warm soft curves of her most sensitive places.
Her breathing altered.
“You are wet, my darling,” Rivers murmured. He was painfully hard, throbbing urgently, dear god the waiting and the wanting was sweet, now that its end was so close. He eased his finger inside her groove. He groaned when her intimate flesh grasped at him. She breathed quickly, her mouth opening.
“I think we have waited too long already,” he added.
She nodded, her lashes falling, her head going back against the wall.
“Oh,” she whimpered, when his slid his damp finger in and out.
His blood roared. She was ready all right. He coaxed her some more. She moaned and clutched at him. She was so ripe, more than ready, she was close to climax and he wanted to be inside her when she was driven to that particular distraction.
He drew away, abandoned his coat and knelt down to remove her buttoned-up boots, his hands clasping her feet as they slid out. He smoothed her stockings down the length of her legs, looking appreciatively at her exquisite pale flesh and the shapely curves. His need was growing more urgent. He stood and quickly undid the small buttons down her back, his nails scratching at the stiff corset enclosing her waist when it was revealed. She struggled to assist. He managed to free her breasts, squeezing his palms against her corset to press their soft flesh out of its constraints. He dropped down to take her nipples in his mouth. His teeth grazed her flesh, threatening her with their ferocity. Her body arched under him, the laces of her corset dangling neglected in her hands. He tutted and returned to his undressing of her.
When she stood naked, he stepped away to look at her beautiful body, the thing he longed to see and hold. His gaze moved from her flushed face to her gloriously bountiful breasts. Her legs were long and strong, her hips softly curved, her waist an invitation to rest his hands there. Her breasts were already sensitive with their lovemaking – the wine-colored nipples peaked before his eyes.
She blushed.
He took her hand and led her to the bed. She laid back and held her breath when he stroked the full globes of her breasts, then she reached up and parted his shirtfront. She pulled it over his head and fumbled with his breeches. She paused, looking down at the large bulge she encountered, her eyes wide.
“Yes, look at the state you’ve got me in,” he said, accusingly.
She looked positively daunted, the cheeky wench. He pressed her over the bed with one hand on her shoulder, undid the buttons on his breeches and sprung free. She seemed to look at his manhood with a mixture of longing, fear and appraisal. It sent a dangerous thrill through him. He laid his weight over her. He almost came apart immediately when he eased the crown of his cock inside her sweet entry and felt the firm, moist grip of her warm flesh. He drew back, about to thrust deeper and give her the full length of his manhood, when she let out a fevered gasp and her body tensed.
Easing back, he realized he’d met some resistance.
For a moment he couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
Eleanor clutched at his arms, her eyes pleading with him. “Please, Rivers, please don’t stop. I want you there. I want you to take me.”
“I don’t understand, I thought…” He paused, unable to order his thoughts.
She’d mentioned other men. Hadn’t she told him she was mature enough to make this decision? Oh, but wasn’t that so like her?
“– you are a virgin?” He was ready to pull away when her legs moved up round his hips, arresting him.
Her fingers gripped onto his shoulders. “Please, Rivers, I’ve wanted this for the longest time.”
By god, she was a determined little wanton, he couldn’t stop now.
He thrust gently and more deliberately, his body closing on hers. He stroked her cheek, soothing her, making her relax again.
The tension in her gave way.
“My sweet love,” he whispered. “Tell me if I hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“No it feels good. Oh...Rivers, how I’ve dreamed of you.”
Her words released a heady confirmation in his mind and body.
She’s mine.
He plowed on, rising up onto his arms to thrust into the tender space that she’d offered him. Such a gift, and she’d given it to him. A fierce ache lodged in his chest as he watched the expression on her face change from fear to rapture. Her head rolled from side to side, her mouth open in an ecstatic moan.
“Oh my. The intensity, it overwhelms.” She gasped for breath. Her eyelashes were wet. Even in the grip of impen
ding release he knew it wasn’t the tears of loss but those of extreme pleasure.
He was close to spilling. He slid one hand down to where they were joined. He couldn’t hold out much longer. He silently vowed to bring her pleasure higher… until – yes, there she was – he’d sent her over that dizzy edge.
A startled moan escaped her, her lush, tender flesh embracing him over and over. It was his final undoing. He managed to pull out in time and spilled his warm seed over her belly.
* * *
Lying in his strong arms with the aftermath of those exquisite sensations washing over her body was the most delicious thing Eleanor had ever experienced. His long hard thighs were pressed against hers, his arms gently cocooning her. They nestled that way for some time, regaining their senses. Then he rested soft kisses down the side of her face while he dabbed gently at her belly with the bunched corner of the sheet.
“Why did you…?” She was looking at where he was wiping away the evidence of their lovemaking.
His mouth twisted in a cynical smile. She saw chastisement in his eyes. “My dear Eleanor, I’m making an effort to salvage something of your honor.”
He sighed deeply and ran his fingers through her hair, spreading it out across the pillow. “We cannot have you heavy with child when you arrive in California, can we?”
Eleanor blushed, annoyed with herself. If she’d thought about it, if she’d waited until her mind could think straight, she could have worked that one out for herself. Fool.
She’d been embarrassed when she’d seen the look of horror in his eyes, when he’d realized that she was a virgin. Now she’d made herself look even more gauche and silly.
He shifted his body alongside her, one hand cupping her right breast.
“I’m very annoyed with you,” he said, resting a kiss on her breasts.
Annoyed? He was annoyed, with her?
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