Chapter Twenty-Two

Emma chose to take her dinner with Horatio. No doubt her decision was not solely based on her desire for his company. He imagined she had no great relish to repeat the morning's events and he was glad she wouldn't have to be in the same room as Jack Simpson, devil incarnate.

She'd make a fine doctor, Horatio surmised watching her as she stirred his broth. It hurt him too much to chew. A person could be healed just looking at her. Her blazing red hair was pulled half back at her temples so that most of it still hung about her shoulders in a blanket of red silk. A few small curls fell across her forehead. Her soft round face belied the fierceness in her blue eyes. They stilled his heart whenever she looked at him, as she did now, bringing the spoon to his lips carefully.

Her lips, God save him, were soft and full and tasted of coffee and butter the last time he'd kissed her.

The slim pale column of her neck beckoned for his hand. The rest of the yellow ribbon that had not been wound around his finger settled against her neck where his cufflink dangled tantalizing just above her breasts. She fiddled with the cufflink sometimes when she was nervous. Horatio doubted that Emma was even aware that she did it. It made him feel giddily possessive of her somehow and proud at the same time. It lightened his heart to know that she took a small measure of comfort from something he had given her.

Horatio's eyes went back to her breasts, hidden by the shift she wore. She had changed into her night clothes and wore a pretty pink robe for modesty's sake in case someone should knock on the now locked door before they settled in for the night. The rest of her was modestly shapeless right now but he remembered the curves underneath. The slim round bones of her hips that he had held in his hands. Horatio reached out a hand towards one side but only succeeded in reaching her thigh. It was enough. Emma stopped, spoon held above the bowl and stared down at him.

"Come to bed." He said softly. There was a flicker of something in her eyes. Not quite apprehension. Anticipation, perhaps? "It'll be good enough just to lie with you alone, finally." then he smiled. "Aye well, not quite good enough but it'll do." He amended.

"It'll do." She nodded putting the bowl down by the bed. She crawled in beneath the blankets gingerly, trying not to hurt him. She only made a token protest when he pulled her closer, worried she'd press against his injuries. Emma made a sound like a soft sigh and snuggled against him, pressing her lips to his throat which made Horatio purr with a sound he'd never in his life heard himself make. Emma ran her fingers along the inside of his collar, touching heated skin. "Tell me if I'm hurting you."

"Aye, madam doctor." He said softly.

"You smell wonderful." She said burrowing her face in the crook of his neck.

"That's because you've practically bathed me in brandy." He said stroking her hips, glad to have them in his hands once again.

"Ah. Then we have to thank the good captain, don't we?" She asked with a giggle.

"We can thank him tomorrow." Horatio insisted. When her hand grazed his thigh, Horatio sucked in his breath at how hard he swelled at her touch. and her fingers not even there yet. Emma stopped and looked up at him in concern.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She said quickly moving her hand but Horatio clamped his hand over hers and kept it still.

"It wasn't the pain of it. It was good."

"Oh. Good then." She said smiling. Then hesitantly she asked, "Would you like me to continue? I know we can't do anything else but...I read that it's not healthy for a man to be left...aching." Emma said "Do you want me to...well...I should very much like to...umm...touch you. If you w..wish of course." Emma said staring at his neck. She watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallowed.

"Are you certain?" He asked, glad she wasn't looking at him for he was sure his face must be bright red.

"I am." she admitted. "We can do that at least. Only...well...if I make a mistake you must be sure to tell me." It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how would he know but he held his tongue. Besides, after three years at sea with a crew of men and not a woman in sight he was well aware and familiar with that much. Still, he wondered if it was different to have a woman's touch instead of one's own. He soon had his answer. Emma slid her hand daringly higher until she was just there. Horatio heard her swallow hesitantly and then felt one finger dip into the soft hairs. They both jumped when she made contact with the warm skin of his shaft. She sucked in her breath and curled her fingers around him.

"It's very hot. Even for you." Emma whispered. Her voice held a soft sort of breathiness. Yes. A woman's touch was quite different. When Emma ran the back of one finger behind the shaft to the sac tight against it, Horatio gave a sound that was half a grunt and half a whimper. Emma looked up at him hesitantly.

"It's alright. Do not stop." He said, the words coming out like a plea.

"What does it feel like?" She asked him, fingers moving once again. he took a deep breath, trying to master his befuddled senses before answering. But he couldn't think of a good enough explanation for her.

"Heaven." He sighed simply. She dotted small gentle kisses along his chest while stroking him. God, he wanted to kiss her, to feel that sweet mouth on his and pain be damned.

"I don't think I shall be thinking of England at all." Emma said suddenly, confusing Horatio. Was he so far gone that she had been speaking and he hadn't heard her?

"What?"

"I don't find this unpleasant in the least." She admitted. "You're wonderfully warm and flushed all over. Your eyes shine quite beautifully when I do this." She gave him a gentle squeeze. He supposed the surge of lust burning through him caused his brown eyes to 'shine' as she said. "And your skin feels soft and slippery. I don't think I'd do quite well as a lady in polite society. I feel quite wanton touching you but yet I find I like it very much. Do you find me shameful?" Emma wondered.

"We're...ah..." Horatio mumbled intelligibly and moved his hips up, startling Emma when it felt like he was thrusting back into her hand.

"Do that again." She said. Emma held her fingers still but tight around the shaft and felt the shift of his hips up and down as Horatio pushed through the ring of her fingers. "How very fascinating. Does that feel nice?" She asked.

"Nice." He repeated with a laugh that made his ribs ache. His back was sore where Simpson had kicked him. Horatio eased the movements of his hips until he merely rolled very slowly. He'd hoped perhaps that if he could move them enough he could take Emma in the manner he wanted. But no. Damn Jack Simpson to an ever lasting, painful, burning hell.