Chapter twenty-eight:

A hip bath was brought in at Jack's request later that day, and once it was measured against the limited space in the room, it was placed beside the bed and filled with a little hot water and left to cool after the doctor had given his blessing for Jack to be aided in his wash carefully.

Rolling up the sleeves of her dress to the elbow, Rose dipped her arm in to test the temperature. The ship wasn't in usage of central heating, only electric lighting and now Jack's fever had broken, the room was cooler than he was used to. Turning to face him, with a nervous perspiration, she smiled knowing this would be a difficult task with a stubborn male. Oh, how the tables seemed to have turned right before their very eyes.

''I think that should be all right."

''I will not need an aid.'' Jack turned his legs to the ground, and propelled himself forward with a little more ease than before, although the pain within his face was evident.

''Then, how shall you lower yourself into the bath when you struggle to simply get to your feet?'' Jack closed his eyes, wrestling with the stubborn streak. ''After what we discussed earlier, I thought that we had passed the point where you felt that I pitied you and understood that I merely wish to help you.''

''It isn't that.'' Jack fiddled with the sheets, moving them away from his legs and exposing them to the cool air of the room in the dimming light. ''I was trying to save your eyes from-''

''Your modesty went when I had to strip away your soiled clothes and washed every part of your body thoroughly, twice daily for two days, Mr. Dawson.'' Her cheeks were flushed, she could feel. ''And my eyes are no longer innocent to the sight of your entire body, just as yours are no longer innocent to mine.''

Rose felt steely in herself. Standing with her hands upon her hips, unbeknownst to her, had thrust her breasts upwards and they heaved as she heavy breathed through the thoughts of him naked beneath the sheets and recollecting just how brazen she had been to request of him to sketch her nude. The dress she had borrowed from another passenger was ill-fitted across the bodice, but it would suffice until they reached Boston and she could hopefully be fitted for another, or at least, borrow one which didn't come unstitched at the seams when she breathed in or out. She was still able to move more instrumentally in these garments than she ever would her own.

''How could you find any happiness in helping to bath a man who reeks of God knows what?''

''I assure you; I could find plenty, but I will not.'' Her eyebrows raised as she stepped towards him, and he grasped the covers across his lap tighter. Long, lean legs were bare to her, with the prickling hair which had tickled against her own. How she had touched them, only briefly but marvelled at their hardness and shape. How muscular and toned. A woman hardly got to see a man's lower body, not one as defined as his. There was also something intimate about his bare feet, and how the sight of him there even half nude arrested her. The vulnerable state to him made her feel more for him that she thought possible.

''How you are revelling in my misery.'' Jack's glance went from her watery eyes, down to where her breathing was shifting between shallow and excessive. ''Why are you wearing a different dress?''

''B-because my own was ruined. This was kindly borrowed to me by another passenger who had managed to rescue her suitcase.'' Her breathing turned shallow. ''I shall not enjoy not any of this whilst you are in pain.''

Rose's eyes met his, sensing his discomfort at something there between them, as though there had been a shift in gear during the course of the last hour or two. His cheeks flushed, as his eyes darted for the floor and then back to her once he had stopped speaking.

With all of her heart, Rose wished that she had the guts to ask if her naked body, soaked in water, would affect him in such a way. The actual thought of it stirred feelings within her that she never even knew existed. It was terrifying but exhilarating as the same time. The air was thick once more almost as though something hung over them. With a fleeting glance over her, he toyed with the ends of the linen blankets, as though he was in two minds whether or not to actually remove it.

Noticing his discomfort, Rose pulled at the bodice of her dress, so that it was further across her body, not realising just how much it caused her breasts to swell atop it. Jack looked to be in pain, as he winced and his heavy-lidded eyes slowly closed.

''You cannot bear to look at me, can you? What has changed?''

The steel in her voice shot a pain through his heart.

''Because all I want to do is look at you and that is why I am trying so hard, Rose.''

''Hard to not look at me?''

''Yes.''

Exhaling slowly, Rose followed her heart; allowing the confidence which she had gained from realising herself to be an attractive woman to shine through.

''When I had asked you to draw me, you helped to remove my gown and your fingers upon my back was the most wonderful feeling I had ever had. Until the restrictions were gone and I saw how you watched me. And then—then, you touched me.''

Moisture flooded his mouth, as his gaze fell upon her angelic face, lit beautifully ethereal in the dim light of the fire and the gas lamp.

''You saw me then.'' Rose whispered. ''But, you cannot look at me here, like this, or allow me to see you in the same way.''

''Rose, when I draw, I am a professional. The truth is I have never been-''he paused, to think of just how to word it, ''been involved emotionally with a subject of my drawings.''

''I see.''

The watery eyes which fell upon him pulled at his stomach and his heart. His smooth palm came up to her face, to hold it there and to study her.

''And to separate what I saw and how I felt was very hard.''

''Well, I am be your wife as soon as you wish for me to be. I want to not just aid you now in your sickness but I want you to be able to look at me, to never feel as though I cannot-''

All words ceased after that, as Jack threw caution to the wind and removed the linens and as carefully as he could, stood unaided for the first time since the fire. Rose was stunned; beyond fascinated. He was lithe, tanned, with a little freckle here and there. At the place where his heart hammered in his chest for her, sat a small dusting of hair. His stomach was toned; with ribs visible but not overly so below the bruises and then the line of hair went down, passed his hip bones where more hair started just below his naval and travelling down before it disappeared just below to-

The reason for his reluctance to remove the linens, perhaps. Hiding a roaring erection which he had concealed as it must have sprung to life whilst she was preparing the bath. She had bathed him whilst he slept, fascinated by how at times, it could adjust to the temperature of the room or react to her touch but she had never seen him so-alive.

Rose's stomach tightened, as her gaze travelled vertical to Jack's own flushed face. He reached out for her, as though asking for her guidance and her forgiveness. Rose crossed the water soaked carpet to him and then, his hands were in her damp hair and then, his lips were on hers as an almost guttural moan filled her with a flare of something new and their torsos crushed together, with the only care been not to hurt him at all.

It was too much...

Another hand went to her waist, feeling how her body curved there for the first time beneath any clothes. Even though she wasn't exposed to him, she felt fully naked. If there was a time to surrender, then now was it...to surrender herself to him properly. A woman's virginity was meant to be only be given to the man whom one was to marry, whether than be for love or for business. Here, she was, not yet eighteen and about to give herself to the man she had known less than ten days. Did time ever matter? One had to wonder when surviving the sinking of the Titanic. The entire whirlwind filled her head and left her with nothing else to think or speak of but Jack. He consumed her in every way one could.

Jack's lips were wickedly tender, yet filled with such emotion that Rose's stomach pulled as though she was about to cry. Urgency coursed through her veins, as she massaged at his bare unharmed shoulder feeling the heat which exuded from him. The feel of her heaving breasts against his bare chest was enough to cause her to want to remove that final layer of material which separated them but there was a barrier; one which she felt he was putting up. Was there something terrible about wanting to give herself to Jack? God, she was ready to. More than. His lips left her own, to find their way down to her bare throat, his hand cupping at her behind atop the dress. There, Rose went limp, her entire body seemed to become boneless and weightless.

Together, they clattered to the wall behind them with her pressed against it, with Jack suckling at her neck. The new heights which were gathering about her were more intense than anyone thought possible. The areas darkened as he went, and it seemed guilt had flooded him once his eyes opened to view the bruises which he had inflicted upon her pale and innocent skin. As though he had been hit by scalded water, Jack pulled back from her, with a hand running through his hair and the other at his rib to soothe out the aches.

''What is it?'' Rose panted, through her cloud of eroticism. ''Are you hurt?''

''I'm sorry,'' he tried to regain his composure, ''I should not allow myself to become carried away.''

''Don't you desire me?'' She frowned. ''The way that I feel that for you?''

Rose found she no longer flushed at such confessions. Why should she be? A woman should not be ashamed or scared of voicing her wants for fear of anything. The woman in her shone through. The woman which Jack had part created and the other part he had freed from the gilded cage.

''Rose, since the day I met you, I had desired nothing but you.'' Jack stood, unabashedly naked and it was difficult to even think straight. ''Yes. I am afraid because I want you to know that I respect you. That I would only touch you in such a way once I was truly certain that we would be only each other's.''

Rose was touched. Her hammering heart seemed to accelerate though. ''I want to belong to you. Mind, heart and body.''

Leaning against the coolness of the wall for support, Rose felt her legs about to weaken. Exhaustion overcame her, and Jack immediately came to her, sensing her discomfort. Once he was close enough, Rose felt him there against her; the hard line against her own pubic bone and the fire was ignited once more. It felt wonderfully weird. A part of Jack which she had never felt, bore witness to properly or given much thought to but now, with everything, she wanted to feel the weight of him atop her.

A gasp came from her, as he moved, the rigidness digging against her belly; coincidentally where she felt the mass of butterflies breaking flight. He watched her reaction; open mouthed and wide eyed. There, another barrier was torn down between them. Shaking hands came to his chest, across both of his nipples and then they very slowly lowered down to the line of hair which went further below. As her fingers traced downwards, his stomach sucked in and his breathing stalled for a few seconds.

''See, I do desire you,'' he started, with a voice low, silky and coarse, ''but I never even thought possible for it to be this way with us. I never wished to marry, had a care to, but now all I want to do is to be your husband.''

Would becoming the wife of a stranger lead her to a destroyed life or a happy and full existence?

Rose darted her tongue to her very dry lips. Before her, Jack trembled with something. The room had turned cooler, the air about them fell silent as though the quiet was enabling them both to think and yet, neither moved an inch from the other. They were close enough to hear each other's hammering hearts.

Jack pressed his lips against the dampness of her hair, the scent of Rose filled his senses and he squeezed his eyes closed in a bid to both saviour the moment and gain some clarity. Against his bare torso, he felt every single part of her. Pulling away from his neck, Rose found the heat of his gaze. She was flooded with the crazy, intense desire which had been kept at bay for a little while. ''Have me as your wife then.''

Jack pressed his lips to her forehead just once. His eyes were closed, his body made smaller movements as though he was containing himself, caged and suppressed.

''Don't try to extinguish what you feel. I wish to say that a fire should be allowed to be brightly but-'' she glanced down and he stopped her with a finger to the chin.

''It should, when it is a fire of desire; desire for a person, a life or a love.'' Jack smiled, knowingly. ''Which is why it is killing me now knowing that you are about to ease me into a damned bath no larger than a child, wash me all over and touch me and I cannot do thing about it but let you.''

The flare of her anger was certain within her face. To steady herself, she blinked away the tears of frustration. ''You will allow me to help?''

''Yes,'' pulling himself away from her was difficult. As soon as she was an inch away from him, the air was cold and torture. His ribs throbbed as he tried to walk unaided to the small, tin hip bath and Rose was behind him. ''Your stubbornness is worse than mine.''

''Yes, so very rare a man does as he is told.''

''So very rare that a woman aids a man to bathe.''

''Very rare a man risks his life twice in one night so that a woman has to aid his bathing.''

Sucking in the pain, Rose tried to gain clarity. The contrast of emotions between seconds ago to now was like a light bulb brightly burning her eyes in the darkness. Jack lowered himself into the bath, keeping his upper body out as much as possible. It was ridiculously tiny, like cramming thousands of sardines into a very small tin but somehow, he managed, perhaps with the need to bathe properly and rid himself of the smoke, the blood and the sweat.

Rose noted that the steam in the room had subsided and the room was clearer and the air less harsh to breathe in. Reaching forward, she found the single bar of soap and ran it over Jack's skin and body feeling the smoothness of it and how it calmed him in a subtle way. His arms were solid at the top, formed in muscles not too large but not small. She wondered of his life before her; just how different it had been travelling across the world the way that he did.

''Do you participate in many sporting pursuits?''

Jack laughed, low and dry. ''Sometimes, usually after I am in need of burning away the stresses.''

''I thought that was the reason that men took women into their beds to limit that.'' Rose hadn't meant to sound brittle in any way, but it came out undiluted.

'No, Rose. At least not for me.'' Jack breathed out. ''Why do you think I was in the gymnasium several times after meeting you.''

''And, did it not help?''

Jack tilted his head back against the lip of the bath, to find her eyes and then smiled. ''No, because someone rudely accused me of trying to ruin them once more whilst in the gymnasium.''

Rose lowered her mouth to just touch her lips against his own. ''And later that night, you stole away some of my innocence.''

Jack held her lips with his own, smiling as she pulled away to continue his wash. If he thought anymore of how he had tasted her, touched her and felt how she found some release within him arms, even briefly, then he would come apart himself.

Rose took the soap and started up his neck, caressing, so that then, his hair was lathered and soaped fully atop his head, each time she rubbed at it, the suds fell into the water making it whiter and opaquer. Watching as it fell, she seemed to be transfixed by the small bubbles which had formed along the surface of the water and then, there, protruding out of the water was his erection. As her hands absentmindedly rinsed out the soap from his hair, Jack wiped the suds from his eyes and met her warm gaze. Her face was right there, beside him and her hands suddenly knew what to do. In the light of the candle and backlit by the fire in the grate, Jack looked like an angel, himself, austere and filled with a palpable dark energy. There was a softness to him, no seduction, just a silent irrefutable command.

Rose's hands trembled with such unexperienced nerves that she marvelled at the first touch of him. Hard and thick, it pulsed with starkly etched veins. His legs spread wider in invitation; an automatic reaction. Her hand gripped at the root and stroked to the tip. Her gaze rose to his face, and then travelled the length of his body, watching the play of muscles across his torso as she moved. With trembling hands, she swirled her hand down the length of his shaft, her strokes fluid and graceful despite his obvious lust. His heavy sac was tight and hard, his gaze locked with her own. He lay motionless, arrested by the sight of Rose pleasuring him. She'd never witnessed anything so erotic in her life, could never have imagined it. One would think a person would be vulnerable in such a pose, and yet Jack held an heir of fragility as well as proudness. His pupils dilated, the brilliant blue retreating until it was only a faint rim around the black. It was then she realised that the power was hers. Not his. Not because of his current state, but because of how much he had honestly wanted her from the start. From the first glance. Filled with renewed confidence, she spread his legs wider. His lips parted on a hiss of air all the while she watched her own hands, pumping him with a strength that looked painful, but gave him obvious pleasure.

"Rose." Her name was a tormented cry from his lips as he spurted, his hot seed splashing in creamy bursts through her fingers and mingling with the bath water. Startled by the stunning intimacy, she shivered as he came, feeling wicked and wonderful and some other warm emotion she couldn't name because she'd never felt it before as she was sure he whispered his undying love softly into her ear as the aftermath of the orgasm set in.