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“Rose,” I corrected, kissing him gently. “Please, call me Rose.”
“How…? How did you manage to get undressed and behind me without me knowing?” James asked quietly as he opened the cargo door.
I shook my head.
“I am an accomplished lady.”
***
We spent the remainder of the journey finding any excuse to be alone, entertaining each other with our bodies interlocked. We stole glances, whispers, jokes, and laughter at every opportunity.
And it was easy.
The longing for William, however, grew with every interaction. I’d find myself seeing William in James’s face, hearing his voice, the hazel eyes became emerald. It was crushing. I realized just how much I missed the connection I had with William, how much he completed me, and in a way I knew he was my equal.
My exact missing piece.
On the ninth morning of the journey, I sat in the captain’s quarters where I spent my time during the day, reading a collection of poems or whatever fodder was available to me from the crew mates. James was bent studiously over a book of records, whatever he tallied and was in charge of. His father had left us to commandeer a crew member, as there had been talks of him throwing men overboard. Though, it was really I who threw them to the sea after feeding from them.
James studiously recorded his findings, the crease in his forehead deepening as he wrote. I leaned back on his bed, sighing when I dropped his book onto the floor. He looked up at me, a small smile playing on his lips.
“We don’t know when he will return.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” I simpered as I trailed my hand over my breast, stopping at my nipple and twirling my finger around it through the fabric of the dress. James exhaled in defeat, quickly closing the distance between us to climb on top of me and kiss me gently. I pulled away from him, looking into his molten eyes, swirling green pools of desire. They were emerald.
“What is it?” James asked, searching my face. My affections for the man he wasn’t seem to burst. Despite the fact that James was thoughtful and kind, and that he kissed me as if I were a fragile treasure, he wasn’t himself to me.
“Why do you kiss me like that?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“So gently, as if I may break under your touch.”
James chuckled quietly, his head dropped and he shook it. Sandy hair tossed in the movement, catching the light and appearing almost golden. I fingers found his jaw, pulling his head up to meet my gaze.
“Because I feel as though you might. If I kiss you too hard or grab you too roughly, you’ll poof into dust and blow from my fingertips. I do not feel as though you are real sometimes.” I smiled, rubbing his cheek, he leaned into my hand.
“I am real, I am here, and I promise I will not turn into dust under your touch. As a matter of fact, it would beyouwho would turn to dust undermytouch.” James kissed me, kissed me with such a force I thought perhaps Iwouldcrumble under him. It was all-consuming, his lips against mine, working fervently as his tongue slid into my mouth, teasing my own.
“I love you, Rose,” he said suddenly against my mouth. I reared back, dread tight in my throat. I quickly pressed my hand to his lips, shushing him.
“Don’t do that, please,” I begged softly.
“Why? I do, I love y—” I flipped him, bringing his body under mine in a moment, knowing his human senses couldn’t comprehend the speed. I lifted my dress, exposing my nakedness to him and James groaned as he took it in, gripping my hips.
“Naked, now,” I demanded. He obeyed eagerly and I positioned myself to lower onto him. Desperate need filled his eyes as I slid his length into me, moaning with every inch I took. I tossed my head back, riding him hungrily, listening to him struggle to contain himself already as he dug his nails into my hips. I wished he could hurt me, wished he was strong enough to break me.
God damn it all, I wished he was not even himself. I took my hands into my hair, allowing him to see all of me as I ground my pelvis against his, feeling his hips desperately rock under mine.
Moving faster, harder still against him, I placed my hands on his bare chest to bring myself up and down, swirling in pleasure. His chest was hot under my cool hands, slicking them with his sweat. James wrapped his arms around my waist, spinning us around so he was on top again, pressing me into the bed. A laugh bubbled from behind my lips and I kissed the satin skin of his neck.
“Rose, look at me,” he ordered, stopping his rhythmic thrusts. My head fell back onto the pillow, doing as I was told. “I love you.”
“No—” James brought himself out of me to the tip, roughly thrusting all the way in again. I cried out, gripping his shoulders. He pulled out, almost completely again to the tip.
“I love you,” he said gruffly, thrusting himself to the hilt, this time we both whimpered. Once more, he began to pull himself almost completely from within me, but I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him back in, releasing the built-up tension in a wave of gratification. James could no longer hold himself together, filling me under my throbbing, falling onto my body. I kissed his sweaty cheek, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck. It was no longer acceptable to pretend he was someone else. Why did he have to do this?
***
