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A Sweet Contrast	By : BrunetteWeasley Category: S through Z > Titanic Views: 3548 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie, James Caneron's Titanic, nor the recognizable characters and situations. I make no profti from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Sweet Contrast
- 2-A Sweet Contrast 2
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- 2
Chapter 1: Cal
"We're going to have to get a little bit closer…"
I felt his fingers spread across my lower back. As he pulled me toward him, I felt a fire ignite in my lower abdomen. His light eyes twinkled at me. If I didn't know better, I would suspect he knew what he was doing to me. As we got swept up in the dancing, I forgot about the fire, but it didn't go away.
The music was still pounding below deck as we slipped up the stairs and out of the roaring party. My blood seemed to speed though my veins in time with the music. I was laughing as we rounded a corner, Jack tailing close behind me. He grabbed my wrist and spun me around. My back ended up against the wall. He pressed himself against me. His hands gripped my hips, and he grinned. His head dipped toward mine. I felt the fire from earlier leap back to life. My breathing became hitched and shallow. I closed my eyes in anticipation of his touch, but then as I felt the beads of my dress and the bones of my corset press into my back, I remembered who I was. I flickered open my eyes and moved my head slightly.
"Jack, I can't." He paused but didn't immediately pull away. My hand had found its way to rest lightly on his arm. The cool metal of my engagement ring sent a chill through me as I acknowledged it. I think he must have felt it too. He dropped his hands from my hips and moved back a step.
"Oh. Sorry, I forgot." He raised his head and flicked his hair out of his eyes. He grinned again. "Well, Milady, thank you for a lovely night. Shall I escort you back to your quarters?" He took on the mock haughty voice he had used to joke with me earlier that day. I could tell he was just trying to cover up what had happened, or almost happened between us. I was grateful for his transition.
"No. Mr. Dawson, I am fine. But thank you again for everything." I brushed past him. I had to keep things formal. And, more importantly, I had to get away. How much I wanted to stay scared me. Feeling his body pressed against me and feeling his breath ghost across my face had stoked the fire within me to dangerous heights. I had to do something about this fire, but what? I shouldn't have come with him. I always seem to make the wrong decisions. I should have learned long ago that anything that felt right to me was probably wrong in the eyes of my mother, her friends, and Cal.
Cal. I remembered that Dr. Freud wrote that when our id, the side of desires, and our super ego, the side of restraint, battle the ego will settle the dispute by finding a socially acceptable way of satisfying both. Cal could be that socially acceptable way. All I knew was that the fire had to be extinguished. As much as I wanted it to be Jack, that couldn't happen. I remembered Cal's request, the one he not so subtly made when he gave me that dreadful necklace.
I looked up and realized that my feet had led me back to my stay room. I nodded at the attendant as I walked in the door.
"Could you send to me Mr. Hockley for me?"
"Yes, of course, what would you like me to ask him, Miss?"
"Ask him… ask him if he would still like me to visit him this evening?"
I sent the attendant away and excused myself to my rooms closing the door behind me. I slipped my heavy dress off of my shoulders and let it crumple to the floor. With a little struggling, I was able to remove my corset and peel off my stockings. I moved to the vanity and picked up the washcloth lying by the water jug. I used the cloth and water to wipe away the sticky sweat and beer that coated my skin. I took what was left of my hair pins out and attempted to brush out the tangles. When I was finally satisfied, I moved to my wardrobe and pulled out a soft dressing gown. I pulled the dress over my head and set down at the vanity to wait. When I had sat here just hours earlier and Cal had draped that heavy necklace across my collar bone, I never thought I would actually give in to his request. I had already begun planning my excuses, too tired, a headache, seasickness, anything.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. Assuming it was the attendant returned with Cal's answer, I didn't bother getting up.
"Come in."
Cal stepped into the room. I quickly stood up. Manners had been so plowed into me since birth I sometimes responded by reflex. Cal reached behind him and locked the door. The sound of the metal sliding into the latch caused a feeling of panic to shoot through me, but I quickly squashed it. I was going to marry Cal. I needed it to work.
"I wasn't expecting you. I was waiting for the attendant to come back."
"I decided it made more sense to cut out the middle man." He began walking toward me. He slipped his hands around my waist and pulled me toward him. When Cal acted, he always acted with purpose. "I'm really glad you sent for me, Rose." He made a move to kiss me. I quickly placed my hands on his chest holding him momentarily at bay.
"Before we start, I just want to let you know that I don't plan on… consummating our relationship tonight." He raised his eyebrows at me, so I continued. "I would prefer to save that until after the ceremony in Philadelphia."
"Where did this new righteousness come from?" He asked. I could tell he was restraining himself. I could tell he was angry. "Why did you send an attendant to me, Rose?"
I couldn't answer his questions. I couldn't give decent answers even years later. My best reasoning would be that I wanted to make it work. I thought I would be stuck in that life forever, and damn it I was going to make the best of it, if at all possible. Why did I still want to hold out? I just couldn't do it. I have no better explanation than that, just a gut feeling that it still wasn't over yet. Although I was always thankful that I had followed that instinct, I would hate myself for many years because of what happened next.
"I thought there were other things for couples to do."
"If you are speaking of this ‘I'll show you mine and you show me yours business’ that's a little childish, Rose." He still wasn't amused, but the edge to his voice was subsiding since he realized this night might not be a total waste, at least in his eyes. He was always looking for what he could gain.
"You're a business man; think of it as a business venture. You wouldn't buy something before properly inspecting it would you." I used the coarse clipped tone I always used when speaking to him. It probably didn't carry any weight any more. He probably assumed that was just the way I spoke, but my words appeased him.
"Fine, a business venture then."
He crashed his lips onto mine. He forced his way into my mouth. The fire within me did respond. Cal was a physically handsome man, and he wasn't a stranger to intimacy. I returned his kiss. He tasted of cigars and brandy. If money had a taste, it would taste like Cal. He broke the kiss and moved his eager mouth to my neck and collar bone. He was gentler there. Even then, he knew that we had to keep up appearances. He slipped a hand from my waist up to my breast. I couldn't stop a moan from escaping my throat. I knew his ego would grow even more just from that sound.
He pushed my dressing gown down my shoulders until my chest was exposed to him. He dropped his head and took one of my pink buds into his mouth. His tongue rolled around that tip. I gasped when he pinched it in between his teeth. He had one hand holding my lower back, supporting me. The free hand traveled to my thigh and began collecting the fabric of my dressing gown pulling it up so he was able to sneak his hand under the dress entirely.
His nimble fingers found my center. He used his index finger to stroke up the length of my womanhood. I gasped and leaned my forehead against his shoulder. He used his thumb to massage my most sensitive spot while he dipped a finger insider me. While continuing what he was doing with his hand, he backed us up until my back was against the wall. He must have been looking for leverage so I could remain standing because he moved his hand from my lower back to grasp the back of my head right at the nape of my neck. He pulled my head off his shoulder and looked into my face. He must have wanted to see the power he had over me in that moment. A tension had been building in my lower abdomen. He slipped his finger out of me, and I mewed at the loss of contact. But before I could lose the feeling, he plunged two fingers back into me. With one like flick of my most sensitive spot, I came shuddering in his arms. He must have loved the sight, me completely submitted to him, if only for a moment.
He let me recover, leaning back against the wall but still clinging to him for support. When he could tell I had regained my strength, he growled in my ear, "My turn." He moved a hand down to the buttons on his pants. As I have alluded to before, Cal never did anything without expecting something in return. I didn't know exactly what to do, so I timidly moved my hands toward him. I tried to steady the shaking of my fingers. I brushed them against his hands. He took the lead and grasped my hand moving it inside his pants. He curled my fingers against his hardened length. I was surprised at how soft the skin was and the way it twitched in my hands. He moved my hand up and down his length setting the pace. After a few strokes, he removed his hand leaving the job up to me. I glanced up at him. He had both hands on the wall behind me with me in between his arms. He had his head slightly bent down, but even then his face was controlled. I could tell he was exerting much effort, but he still had every muscle of his face locked down with his eyes closed. Even when I felt a warm liquid spill over my hand, he barley flinched. The only sound he made was a slight groan.
After he finished, he pushed himself off the wall. He swiftly buttoned his pants and straightened his jacket. He turned his back to me and walked to the door. I quickly fixed my dress and followed to see him out. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. I stepped into the door frame to look after him. His man, Lovejoy was waiting for him as always. Lovejoy shot me a look before turning to Cal.
"Mr. Hockley, I have something to speak with you about."
I knew that he must have seen me with Jack below decks. I knew he would tell Cal of my behavior. Damn him.
"Let's take this to my quarters then. And send for some brandy." Cal turned back to me. "Goodnight, Rose."
"Goodnight."
I waited until they had made their way down the hall. Then I shut the door, slumping to the floor as soon as the lock clicked. I buried my face in my knees. I expected the tears to come, but they didn't. I believe that at that point in my life I must have spent my allotted amount of tears.
The next morning at breakfast, Cal slung the table and dishes across our private promenade. That damn Lovejoy had told him, and of course Cal did not find it acceptable. I still wonder whether my actions with Cal the night before had made the news of my fraternizing with the third class passengers more horrible to him because he felt duped, or if they were the only thing that saved me from his fists. At that point, Cal had never laid hands on me, but his anger scared me.
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A Sweet Contrast