Yes, it gets a little bit hot and heavy towards the end. I will leave this warning here :)

Chapter seven: No Going Back

Jack's breath become fast in his throat and his eyes darted to hers, searching for a clue in her face to see if she was joking, but she wasn't.

How could he draw Rose in such a state. How could one even concentrate?

"Are…are you sure?" he managed. Rose nodded. "If that's what you want, then…I will oblige, Rose." He smiled, his nerves bubbling beneath the surface.

''All right.''

He watched as she started towards her room.

"I will go prepare. Please arrange the furniture to your own comfort. I will be back in a short while." With that, Rose proceeded into her bedroom, leaving Jack more than stunned.

How could he do this? He had suddenly forgotten his own profession. How could he gaze upon her beautiful body and not want to just kiss her all over? He felt a little sick with nerves. He had never seen a woman he was in love with nude before…but then again, he had never been in love. Was he really in love, or was this something else? He didn't know. He knew he wanted her, though, in body, mind, and soul he wanted her.

He knew he couldn't save her from the confines of the society that they both seemed to be trapped in, but he could save her from Cal. He couldn't offer her much, but he had a little which he could offer her. He knew Caledon Hockley was worth more of a fortune that he, but Jack knew with Rose it wasn't about money. She trusted him fully and he knew that. She wouldn't have asked him to draw her nude otherwise. At that moment, Jack knew that Rose would soon be a changed woman. She needed to live, to enjoy herself, to become free, and Jack would do everything in his power to help her along the way.

Rose removed the pins from her hair and shook her head to loosen her curls as they fell down her back.

She had feelings only women had. He had held her so closely, his hand falling loosely to her waist and he had held her hand and stroked her face so tenderly.

Cal could run his hands to her waist and pull her body to his, on many occasions she had felt his erection against her but she had walked away leaving a trail of frustration behind her. She wasn't ready to be naked, for a man almost twice her age to see her body.

She was insecure. The list of imperfections which her Mother would scrutinise; she would burn in the sun, the freckles on her arms, a scar on her left knee, stretchmarks on her waist from rapid growth at such a young age and the breasts which she never felt fully fitted her body.

But he had kissed her, stirring a desire which she had never felt or known about. The urge to be fully exposed to him was exhilarating. She wanted to shed her identity for she was no longer a child but a young woman.

She reached up to remove the butterfly comb to allow her curls to fall freely down her back. She stroked the comb in the dim light before catching sight of herself in the mirror.

She was naked.

She traced her index finger from her shoulder to her waist and her skin was soft to touch. She touched a small stretchmark on her waist and traced her eyes to the curve of her hip then upwards to her breasts and her face. This was how he was going to see her. Nerves fluttered not from his reaction but from standing naked before a man who had made her feel like a woman. There was a longing there, a need and a struggle to contain it but she didn't know exactly what it was.

She wasn't the first girl he had seen nude and her body probably wasn't the first he'd touch but she knew he felt the longing too. Was he nervous? She sensed so. His reaction to her request was one which had caused an intense stare between them both and then he had leant forward to kiss her so tenderly as he closed his eyes he had fought with something inside of himself and she would like to know what that was.

She was timid, almost frigid as Cal would call her. He made her oversensitive and defensive, a man she should give herself to fully and at this very moment she knew that she never would. She glanced over her figure again. She had insecurities and imperfections but he would see through to her very core. She was opening up to him and stripping back every layer she had ever built up.

Shakily she reached out for her kimono and draped it over her body. It did nothing to cover her.

She knew her request had come as a surprise to Jack, but she had to break free and she knew he would do what he could to help her. A small smile crept onto her face as she pondered what his reaction would be to her naked figure standing before him. Her heart was pounding thunderously in her chest and her hands shook slightly. Rose thought of her mother and what her reaction would be to her well-behaved daughter appearing naked in front of a man she had barely known four days. That was the part Rose relished the best, knowing she was rebelling against everything she was ever taught.

With a deep breath, Rose almost had to push herself out the door. But she was ready.

Jack had positioned the divan to face him and had settled himself on a chair. He had removed his jacket, waistcoat, and bowtie and relieved himself of the shirt collar digging into his throat by unbuttoning his shirt almost halfway. He was never one for dressing over the top, but this society required him to.

Rose approached the door and as she placed her hands on the doorknob, she saw that her hands were visibly shaking. She turned the knob. Jack was sharpening his charcoal with a small knife when he heard Rose's door open. She emerged, wearing nothing but a sensual black kimono and, of course, the necklace at her throat. Slowly, Rose began to approach the divan, which Jack had arranged for her to pose on.

Rose wondered for a moment what Jack must think of her. His face seemed expressionless. She wondered if he sensed her nervousness. She took a few steps closer to Jack before slowly reaching her delicate, shaking hands up to part her kimono. She did this wordlessly for nothing was needed to be said in that moment and the ones which would follow.

The garment fell to the floor with a whisper. Self-consciously, Rose brought her hands up around her stomach. It took every bit of strength in her to keep herself from quickly covering herself. Jack was in awe of the beautiful woman who stood nude before him. The experience was more challenging than he imagined. The looks which transpired between Jack and Rose gave each other the confidence to continue.

"Over on the bed…the couch," Jack stuttered. Rose immediately felt more at ease, knowing that he, too, was nervous. Jack allowed the artist in him to take over. Rose lay herself on the divan and positioned herself as Jack instructed her to. She trusted him completely.

With one arm on the cushion above her head and the other by her face, Jack began his masterpiece. Rose could feel Jack's eyes running over her naked body. While she felt so nervous and exposed, at the same time she felt so alive at this new experience. She had never stood nude before anyone before, let alone a man. But Jack was different.

His head took charge for the time being. He gripped the charcoal, feeling the filings chip away against his skin. His sketchbook lay open on the table and as he picked it up he saw his hands were shaking. He took a few more seconds to regulate his own breathing.

She lay on the divan couch before him. Her waist length copper curls spread out around her. There was something wildly open about her and yet so vulnerable at the same time. He took a deep breath before staring at the blank paper; by now inspiration had usually come to him. He was male, of course he enjoyed admiring the female body and to put it onto paper as much as he did while in Paris made his job even more enjoyable but then he would not stay around to watch their clothes be put back on. Too much inspiration came to him; he was too scared to admire her for fear of not been able to stop. He fought against those feelings and anything else which came to light in that moment. His ears were ringing; it was as though an electric current was running through him and into his veins.

He put his charcoal against the paper. A line formed into another. He managed to glance ahead at her face. She was nothing short of perfection. She wasn't relaxed he could tell. All of the other girls would lie there, exuding confidence but none of them had lain quite like her. An heir of innocence flew around her. He found he had stopped drawing and just stared rudely. He heard the drop of something on the paper and he realised he had dropped his drawing aid. This bought his back to reality for just a second, he was such a mess. He picked it back up seeing his trembling hands.

He scratched his face and ran his fingers through his hair. He pulled his sketchbook back onto his knee and took a deep breath which turned into a sigh. Something inside of him took over, he began to create lines and he didn't think anymore. His hands moved like fluid over the paper, rapidly creating the masterpiece which would be his own. He eyes darted around her body, her flat stomach and the smooth roundness of her breasts. Her face had been the starting point, the translucent beauty of her skin and the emerald green of her eyes which could never be captured as perfect as they were. The copper curls which lay around her body, a few strands which fell over her face and then her waist.

As his eyes ran over her body, Jack could feel himself blushing as he sketched her most intimate parts. When he drew, his face was deadly serious. He had never felt as engrossed as he was right now. He could draw her all day long just so he could be in her very presence.

She tried to picture a more intimate moment than this. Even the women of Paris wouldn't have shared times like this with him, of that she was sure and smiled.

"I see you are blushing, Monsieur Big Artiste."

Jack laughed a little as he began to smudge the lines he had created. Jack's hair fell into his eyes as he gazed over his sketchbook and at her. At that moment, Rose felt her stomach flutter. It was as if he could see right through her.

''And yet I cannot imagine Monet blushing?''

''That is because he does landscapes.''

She giggled a little, distracting Jack.

"You're laughing."

"Sorry."

"Just relax your face. No laughing."

Rose took a deep breath as Jack continued to sketch her. She was at ease now, knowing that Jack was all right with the situation. She knew she had been a little forward, but it was what she wanted. When he drew, Jack's face was deadly serious. He was so engrossed in his work, making sure that each line was purely perfect and she admired him tremendously. He was incredibly talented.

Minutes later, the drawing was complete.

"All right. I'm done." Jack broke the silence.

Quickly, Rose retrieved her kimono before Jack could see anything. He had just finished smudging a line or two.

"May I see it?" Rose asked, quietly. She felt as though she needed permission to.

"Of course."

Steadily, Rose came up behind Jack and gazed over his shoulder. The drawing took her breath away. The woman on the paper was so beautiful it was difficult to comprehend it was actually herself. She touched the edge of the paper before sighing. It really was her.

"Date it, Jack. I want to always remember this night."

Jack scrawled the words JD, April 14th 1912 at the bottom of the paper before taking a moment to admire his art. He was impressed by it. She really was an amazing woman. He closed the portfolio and handed it to Rose.

"Thank you."

Standing, Jack took Rose in his arms and she kissed him a little hesitantly, not quite sure of what to do. She was a little uncomfortable knowing she had just been nude before him, and now here he was, kissing her.

"Thank you, Jack. It's beautiful." Rose smiled and pulled away a little.

"So are you, Rose…"

Rose blushed a little, but her eyes never left his. It was like he held her beneath some sort of spell and it was hard to break free. How had she come across a man as gentle and kind as Jack? What had she done to deserve him? He was everything a man could ever be and more. Rose was sure at that moment that she had fallen in love with him. A love which could only grow stronger in time, if he felt the same, obviously. Rose remembered her words from earlier in the day when they had been up on deck, watching the sunset. She had told him her dreams and she wished he could be part of her life, so now she was going to begin to put her dreams in motion and nothing could stop anything which would happen tonight. Neither of them could.

"I was so nervous, Rose. I thought I wasn't going to be able to concentrate."

"I was scared, too. My heart pounded…"

"My heart is still pounding. Knowing you're in my arms like this…I don't ever want this to end, Rose. I don't want this night to end…"

Leaning forward, Jack gingerly touched her face and then kissed Rose's forehead tenderly. He kissed her eyelids and her nose before kissing her lips softly. His hands moved to the small of her back and he caressed her gently.

He could feel feelings stirring inside him which he had never felt before. He was overwhelmed by his feelings for this woman who was in his arms.

He knew he loved her. He had probably known since that first day up on deck.

Slowly, Rose's unsteady hands reached up to Jack's shirt buttons, and hesitantly, she undid them one by one before finally exposing Jack's bare chest. He was well built for a man of his age. She ran her shaking hands over his stomach and chest. For a moment, Jack pulled away, a little breathless, wondering if this was what Rose really wanted.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Slowly, Rose nodded and pulled Jack closer once again to kiss him. Gingerly, he ran his artist's hands up to her shoulders and gently slid the kimono from her body as, for the second time that evening, it landed on the floor with a whisper.

She pressed her bare chest upon his and kissed him once more before taking his hand and leading him into her bedroom.

Both hearts were beating wildly as they continued their kiss inside Rose's bedroom. Clothes were spread out on the floor as they lay nude in each other's arms.

"Rose…if we do this, then I can never go back. This has to be it." He knew that if they made love here and now, he could never just walk away from her again and never see her. If they did this, then he wanted her to be his.

"No, Jack. There's no going back now."

This was all Jack needed to know. He knew that now, after all of the hurt and hesitance leading up to this moment in time, they were together and no one, especially Caledon Hockley, could change that.

"Are you nervous?" Jack asked. His voice was husky.

"No."

And with that, all barriers which had ever stopped them being each other's were broken down. This was it for them now. No going back.

A little while later, Rose lay her head on Jack's chest as he gently stroked her copper ringlets. She could hear his heartbeat as it pounded.

A sense of emotion overcame her and she could feel an urge to burst into tears of happiness. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for the intimacy she and Jack had shared. Nothing had prepared her for the experience which making love for the first time would be. She had given herself completely to this man, who she had known barely four days, and yet who she seemed to know so well.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. I think so, Jack. I think so."

Concerned, Jack shifted onto his side and pulled Rose with him.

"You think so? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No. Of course not. It's just us. Me and you. We've known each other for a matter of days."

"Rose, does that matter? There is no time limit when it comes to love…"

"Love?" Rose asked, blinking back tears.

"Yes, Rose. I think I've fallen in love with you.''

For a moment, Jack wondered if he should have confessed such things after the intensity of their lovemaking, but it felt right. This felt right. He loved her and no longer wanted to hide it from her or the world. What would his friends think when he told them he had fallen in love with this wonderful girl?

"Jack…I don't know what to say…"

"Don't say anything, Rose. Don't say anything…"

With that, Jack pulled her closer to him and kissed her passionately once again. She ran her hands up his back and he shuddered a little.

"Jack…when the ship docks, I'm getting off with you."

Jack's eyes widened. He hadn't expected this. "What?"

"I am. We said no going back, and there isn't. Jack, you taught me how to live. You showed me what it's like to be free, and that's what I want."

"Rose…your mother…Cal…"

"I don't care. This is my life. I'm fed up with being treated like a porcelain doll. I'm going to live, Jack. I am seventeen years old and I have the right to do what I choose. My life starts here. I'm yours, Jack…if you want me, that is?"

A rush of love overcame Jack and he gently wiped the tears from Rose's eyes.

"I do, Rose. I do. I want us to share our life together. I promise harm will never come to you, ever."

They shared another long kiss before feeling something shudder, something like a bump. Moments later, the engines seemed to have stopped. Pulling away from Rose, Jack frowned a little, wondering what was happening.

"Did you feel a shudder?"

"Yes. What was it?"

Jack jumped up, pulled on his pants, and found his shirt. Outside, he seemed to hear a slight commotion. Running his hands through his hair, he attempted to neaten it a little.

"Don't worry, Rose. I'll be right back. Just checking what all of the commotion is about."

Rose nodded, something didn't quite feel right in her gut. She was worried about what was happening. She pulled the sheets away from her and strolled to her wardrobe room to find something to wear.

Minutes later, Jack appeared in the doorway. He seemed out of breath, his cheeks red.

"Rose, there's something you should know…"

"What is it?"

"We've struck an iceberg."