Harold Lowe has managed to claw his way up the career ladder of the British merchant marines, rising from a ship's boy to a master mariner with one of the world's elite passenger lines. Along the way, he's learned to master not only his craft, but...
Well, enough faffing around: in this chapter, Harry finally initiates Corrine into the art of love. I think you all know what's coming (ha ha). Mature content.
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Corrine followed Harry into the bedroom, which was almost entirely taken up by a four-poster bed made of carved dark wood. The bed coverings looked luxurious - nicer and more expensive than any she had slept on before, surely. And it was large... definitely big enough for two, she thought. Soon, she knew, she would be naked in that bed, with the man she loved. The thought was both thrilling and intimidating.
She stopped, suddenly hesitant and unsure.
"What now, Harry? Should I just... take my clothes off, then, and lie down?"
He turned then and looked at her closely, sensing her trepidation. "Well, yes, my darling girl, that is a part of it, but it's not quite as... mechanical as all that," he said gently. He hesitated, then said, "I think I can say, without fear of contradiction, that you've never been physical with a man before, right, Corrine?"
"No... well, you came close a few times." She blushed.
"Right. I remember," he said, grinning to relax her and lighten the mood a bit. "Well, there's an art to it, I guess you could say. We don't just... have at it - at least, not the first time. I have to prepare you, make your body ready for me."
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and her blood suddenly heated. She had an idea of what that might entail, and it sounded like it would feel... exquisite.
"Show me, then," she purred sensuously.
"First, the clothes; then, we play," he teased, but his voice was suddenly uneven with desire. "I can help you get undressed, if you want, but I'd rather... watch." The last word came out in a sort of strangled rasp, and he swallowed hard.
She eyed him closely. From the look of his trousers, he was already aroused... but then again, so was she. Just the conversation, the anticipation, had made her wet... how much more ready could she be? Oh, she couldn't wait to find out.
She nodded silently in assent, and his eyes flared with sudden heat. Slowly, she began removing her clothes, while he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her every move with keen, greedy eyes. It was awkward at first, feeling his gaze on her, but she relaxed a bit once she realized how very much he was enjoying the view. He reached down once to soothe himself, and the titillating sight brought a little whimper to her lips. After that, she dispensed as quickly as she could with her many layers, freeing her hair from its pins at the same time. Finally, the last piece of material covering her fell to the floor, and she stepped out of it. She suddenly felt very exposed - and very shy. She had never been nude in front of anyone before, and she had an almost irresistible urge to cover her breasts with her hands. She stared down at the floor, face flushed; she couldn't look him in the eyes. What if he didn't like her body? What if it wasn't the shape he preferred? What if-
