According To Plan

By Seniya

Chapter Twenty Seven

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He had never in his life shared a bed with another human being—and that he had realized a sizeable two hours into lying next to her. She, who had drifted off to sleep less than a good ten minutes after their lovemaking, and had stayed asleep for the better part of the night.

Caleb hadn't been so slumberous; after all, he had essentially slept for the greater part of a day—and now, with her lovely, lithe body pressed exquisitely close against his, he discovered that he wasn't really sated at all. Not fully, anyways. And it didn't help matters that Will was an incredibly restless sleeper—and simply too soft and supple for a girl her size. Each toss sent a thigh across his leg, any stretch caused the swell of her bosom to brush against his arms…And so, soon it appeared that he had been seduced almost completely by a woman who was fast asleep.

He had thought of waking her and returning the favour with a more valiant, passionate approach but he did know that she was tired, and despite his lack of experience bedding virgins, he knew that she would be quite sore, and so he let her sleep.

It didn't help his arousal much though—and so he attempted to steer his attention to a more…restrained…area. For example, what to say to her once she awoke. Despite her passion and acquiesce, he suspected that regret would come with her awakening, once the full weight of what she'd sacrificed dawned on her. She would have questions he knew, she'd want to know how and whys, wheres and whens. She deserved answers to those questions, answers that didn't revolve around flowery prose and vague promises.

Truthfully, he'd blurted out words like "love" and "marriage" without a second's hesitation, forgetting momentarily, that while it was all very well and good to quell the questions in one's heart, those in one's mind burned on.

They'd need somewhere to live if this marriage idea was to be taken seriously. Someplace nice and roomy—safe of course, since children—yes children, would eventually have to be considered. In fact, and he spared a lingering glance over to Will's immobile frame, children could well be on the way now. He found somehow that he didn't mind, although he'd never placed himself in the role of father. Will would adore children, she'd relish in the opportunity to dote upon a child, feeling somehow it was necessary to atone for the shortcomings of her own childhood. And he'd enjoy watching her, and those pretty little girls with his eyes and her smile, young, strapping boys with their mother's crimson locks.

Perhaps he was jumping too far ahead—the vows had yet to be uttered, and more importantly, they still had nowhere to go after the church. Since he'd been a boy in his father's estate he had heard tales of America: a place they claimed that any man could make his fortune if he was a hard, honest worker. He, admittedly, wasn't honest, and he had only come to America in the first place because the commission that he had bought in the army had run out, and his overly zealous Earl of a father was determined to see him wed, bred and then, at home.

He could stay in America. He'd be willing to put an end to his life of lies for her. He could a job doing something, somewhere and he was certain that he could make her happy. But happiness —Will wasn't the sort of girl who lusted after trinkets, furs and gowns – yet, he couldn't dismiss the feeling that she should have them, even if they only decorated the insides of her closets.

As the heir to an Earldom, he would be able to give her that and much, much more. Give their children that – all it would take was for him to go back home. Although that was something that he was remarkably hesitant to do. Caleb could already see his father's self-satisfied face, he'd predicted that he'd return after all…

Face grim, and now severely distracted due to the mounting pain in his side, Caleb broke away from his thoughts. It was his wound, he noted, and it had started bleeding again, undoubtedly due to his recent exertions. It'd need to be cleaned again, the bandage changed, but truly nothing that he couldn't manage by himself.

Careful to remain as quiet as possible, Caleb removed his hand from about Will's shoulders, ignoring the way that his stomach quaked when he saw her body unconsciously seek his once he'd pulled away.

There were worse things than going home, he decided. Arrogant, selfish, drunken father and all; Will would have whatever it was that her little heart desired, be it crown jewels or flowers – he'd ensure her contentment, because he could bear it to be otherwise.

---

It was the first conclusion that she'd arrived at when she awoke: she was naked. And such a strange realization it was to come upon at that early hour in the morning (or late hour at night, she couldn't be certain), with her head and mind still intoxicated with the wine of slumber—and of course, with the unprecedented arrival of the second finding: she wasn't alone in her bed. And then, of course, the Zeus of all discoveries: the stranger was naked as well.

Alone, each of these was worrisome enough, but combined—oh lord, they were horrific. But slowly, as these things have a way of doing, the memories from the night before made themselves quite clear, and then, instead of feeling horrified, Will found herself nervous beyond a reasonable doubt.

She wanted something to say – and regardless of the hundreds of questions swarming her mind, none of them at this moment seemed appropriate and so she stayed quiet. Was he vexed with her? No, he'd given her no reason to think so – he was asleep for God's sake! And she was naked. Yes, that was a problem…perhaps he wouldn't awaken until morning and in that case, she didn't want to be unclothed when he did, it was a known fact that things looked different in the daylight. Perhaps he hadn't noticed some things last night, and, well she didn't want to ruin it for him.

Will made a careful attempt to untangle herself from his arms, tucking the sheet beneath her armpits and scooting over to the side of the bed where, she remembered that her clothes had fallen, or had rather, been tossed.

Last night had been – amazing. Yes, and that would have to do, for at that very moment a thousand recollections streamed into her mind and stole her thoughts. He loved her, he'd said so, and he'd kissed her in a way that caused her to believe it as well. And other things – making love – despite general obscurity seemed to be a remarkable event, one that she hoped that she would be experiencing again very soon. She wouldn't mind terribly if he awoke right now to go again – but perhaps those things weren't proper.

Maybe it was simply something done only when the mood struck, or when the man was feeling particularly amorous. Truly, before she hadn't a clue what she'd been expecting, just that she loved it when he kissed her, and truly yearned for more than just a brush of his lips.

Perhaps – no, she could just lay back down. He loved her, he'd said so, and she loved him back. She didn't mind him looking at her…she had nothing to be ashamed of. Decidedly crawling closer to his warmth, Will curled up against his body, pressing her leg tentatively against his before surrendering to the pleasure that his proximity brought with it.

He was very well built for a man. And although she did have very little knowledge concerning the male anatomy, she could respect the graceful cut of his muscles and the strong shape of his arms. There was a light dusting of hair on his chest, one that grew steadily denser as her eyes moved downwards. So engrossed was she with his torso in fact, that she never noticed when he awakened.

---

He caught her staring at his naked chest much too soon, although instead of mocking her, as she'd feared that he might, he'd only pulled her closer in order to place a warm kiss atop of her forehead, one that had her worries receding in seconds.

"How did you sleep, beautiful?" His voice was warm and strong, a comforting baritone that she could feel building in his chest when she was this close to him.

"Nice…I mean well, I slept well." It was odd to consider that beautiful meant her, it was even stranger still to recall the mountains of adjectives he had called her last night during their lovemaking, words that still made her heart tremble when she remembered them.

She ran her flattened palm along the planes of his torso, feeling each sharp ridge of muscle and raised protrusion, half expecting him to tell her to stop, half praying that he wouldn't. Heart still racing, she encountered the thin sheet of fabric that covered his wound. "Does it hurt still?"

"Trust you to ruin the mood." With a wry grin that awakened the gooseflesh on her arms and legs, he casually traced the soft slope of her cheekbones with his fingers.

"I know how you are," Staring into his laughing green eyes, she did try to keep her tone stern, "you'd be haemorrhaging and not tell me."

"Nothing hurts." And to prove his good health, he tugged her upwards to kiss her small mouth, "You don't have to coddle me. I'm fine."

"But…I heard…" And she had, last night, she'd heard him leave the bed, watched him as he washed his wound, "I mean, I imagined that I heard…never mind."

Very visibly, she sank further into the covers, pulling them up to her chin, and recalled her once wandering hand. "Why do you do that?" He asked.

"Do what?"

"Say something and then stop." She caught his eye then, stopping to laugh at his accusation, "I don't…I mean well…I don't know."

"I want you to know that you can tell me anything that you'd like to."

"You'll regret that request." But the smile gracing her lips was telling him that she was grateful to hear it. "You tell me most things that I don't care to hear in any case." He countered, and once again lured her closer to his body, desperate it seemed, for her delicious warmth.

Few moments passed in that comfortable silence, she tucked her head into the curve of his shoulder, then taking a long, deep breath before she began, "I heard you. Last night. When you changed the cloth."

"I was…" He had been intending to lie about it, to explain to her that it was simply because the fabric had been chafing, reluctant of course to have her worry again – somehow however, once he met her warm mahogany eyes, the truth slipped forth, "it had started bleeding again."

"My fault?" She whispered, hesitant to know the answer.

"No." He caught onto her diffidence and with practiced arrogance, he stated with mock bravado, "I slept too much on one side."

"My fault." She pressed, but eased her face upwards to kiss his cheek.

"I'm not complaining." He grinned, tipping her chin sideways so that he could capture her lips beneath his.

She relished in the softness of his lips coupled with the ferocity of his tongue and when he snaked a hand around her body to grip the base of her skull, she practically moaned, crushed to insensibility by his mouth. It was the sound that made him stop, aware then that while he could attempt to hush his own desires, hers were another matter altogether.

"You…you…liked it then?" She breathed, although it took him a good few moments to register what she was referring to. Last night. Well, more likely a few tender hours ago. Memories: kisses, caresses, words…all still fresh in his mind. "How could you think anything else?"

Something that had been hiding quite well behind her deep brown eyes vanished suddenly and a new emotion overtook her face entirely, she smiled up at him unashamedly wordlessly appealing to him for a kiss. It didn't take long for him to comply, for he thoroughly enjoyed her when she was this warm and pliant. However when she pressed her lovely body closer, casually pressing a warm hand against his chest, he captured the wandering limb in his own vice like grip, causing her to break the kiss.

What she saw was him looking at her palm intensely—strange behaviour, she thought, for him to kiss her one second and then stare at her hand. "What's wrong?"

"My mother could read palms, she would do mine when I was younger." She had never once heard him speak anything of his parents, and so, hungry for more of what she felt was a very precious piece of information, she blurted out the first thing that sprang to her over excited mind. "Truly? I read about it…in…in a book…" Realizing that such things sounded particularly foolish, she tried to cover her faux pas with a stab at maturity, "but I didn't know that people could actually do that."

He was silent after that, seemingly lost in a deep realm of thought that he was unwilling to welcome her into. He was tracing patterns idly into her skin with his fingertips, and so she asked, more curious than anything else, "Could you do mine?"

"Certainly." He smiled, and then pondered the obscure lines on her tiny hind with a grave severity. "This line here…" He spoke at last, "means that you…are the worst, most scandalous drunk…" She pulled her hand away then and stared at her open palm with an openly incredulous look twisted upon her pretty face, it seemed from where he was that she was half expecting to see the words themselves in large black print jotted across her skin.

"It doesn't say that!" She laughed and half-heartedly smacked him on the chest.

"Oh yes, right here—see the way that it's curved, it says to watch your spirits, and this—oh dear—" He watched her with large, mournful eyes. She found herself laughing again. "What?"

"This one here well it says that you are encouraged to enjoy more romps in ponds—under my guardianship of course."

"Of course."

"There's something about romance as well."

"Is there?" There was something to be said about lying here, stark naked beside this stark naked man, watching as he attempted, whole-heartedly to distract her from her blatant awkwardness.

"It says that you are soon to be besotted by a handsome man."

Will decided to play along and so she feigned a drastic gasp of surprise. "How handsome?"

"Remarkably."

"Lucky me. What's he like?"

"You know the type." And he brushed a kiss across the middle of her palm. "Green eyes, brown hair. He's tall with a wonderful personality."

Will nodded rigorously. "I thought that I knew who before…but that personality bit threw me off…I don't know any of those. I'll have to be very watchful for when he arrives."

He smiled his lazy smile then, and before she could think of what he meant to do, he touched his mouth to hers and lowered her back onto the pillows. His lips were magical, tender and rough, all at the same time. He was leading her someplace with his hot series of kisses, and when he brushed his tongue along the line of her throbbing pulse, Will decided that she would follow. Sighing her acquiesce, she arched her back, wrapping her arms about his neck at the same time that their bodies touched.

"Maybe…" Her lips were warm, and when he whispered against them, they stung. "You should go back to your room now."

"Why?" And she kissed him again, nibbling at his mouth with her teeth, remembering that he liked it when she did that. Yes…why? An answer seemed so useless to him at this moment, for she had turned her attentions to the muscles in his neck…was that her tongue? "Because…you're still…sore from before…" He managed to grind out his answer, and she did pause then.

"No. No I'm not." When in truth she was, but she didn't care about any lingering tenderness too much. She wanted to feel him again, she wanted those kisses and those words, those feelings—"I want to…if…if you want to."

Caleb imagined that she would soon discover that men always want to. He touched his lips to her blushing cheek, relishing, momentarily in her soft, clean smell. "I won't hurt you." He promised in an unwavering voice.

"Of course not." She wanted him, wanted and needed him and nothing would change her mind from that fact. Oh, how it had grown, from mere attraction to a dangerous obsession to this…all consuming, blistering need; one that ate away at her very core and yet lingered, still hungry for more…he was a part of her now, or at least he possessed a large portion of her person. Will recognized that she would never be whole again without him—or at least until he allowed her to take from him what he had stolen.

Although, was it even possible to reclaim a heart?

---

"I love you." She breathed when they parted, merely because she wanted to hear him echo the phrase. But he didn't then—actually, he moved away completely.

Caleb wanted to kiss her again, he wanted to feel her wonderful softness around him as it pulled and clenched, he longed to whisper words of lust and passion into her cherry hair. But the ache that had been plaguing him for days now, seemed intent on tormenting him, and so he rolled from on top of her, collapsing beside her on his back. Aware of more than one throbbing pain in his body.

"Caleb?" Dazed now, and more than a little confused, Will turned onto her side to question him further. "Up," he muttered and to her surprise he only pulled her closer, pulled her atop of him in fact—and then eased lower seconds later, in favour of his bandaged side. A smile warmed her flushed face and Will eased her hand into the darkness beside them, reaching for the covers and then cloaking herself in them once she had them in her grip.

The night had become warm again, dense and thick, stifled suddenly by the unrelenting perfume of desire. Her skin was burning, her heart thundering, and he was peeling the covers off of her shoulders, sending her skin deep into an abyss of sensations. She thought of closing her eyes and hiding from his gaze—but decided against it only moments after—his eyes never made her feel like hiding.

Pressing arms down on either side of him, Will eased forward, meeting his mouth with hers, hoping to share with him her desire—

But she knew that he was probably just as aware as she. His breathing had slowed when she had moved, and his hand gripped her shoulders when she kissed his chest for the first time. She bent lower, so that her mouth could brush against the side of his face; then she dragged her parted lips against his temple, tasting him in a way that she had never dared to before, relishing in the feeling and near salty flavour of him. She bestowed small, nervous kisses along his jaw line before cupping his face in her both of her hands.

He was trying to remain calm. To be composed as she kissed him and touched him, intending of course to prolong her pleasure for as long as possible. But it seemed impossible now—God, she was good at this.

"You have a lot of scars." She whispered.

An odd emotion wrapped around his heart, making it difficult for him to breathe. There was a yearning, rebellious tenderness that could freeze his blood at the thought of her face; the insatiable boiling that seemed to inflame his flesh whenever he actually saw her…right now he was tormented; torn; his body being ripped to shreds due to the struggle of feeling both hot and cold at the same instant; a sensation that he was certain that only she could create in him.

"Yes. I…I know." And he was shaking, trembling as though he were some smooth faced lad in the middle of his first encounter with a woman. And nothing helped to soothe him, he noticed. Over time his body had become so aware of hers; especially now, when they were both alone in the comfortable, persistent darkness. Ribbons of her scent clung to the heavy twilight and brushed against the side of his face—hands; invisible; uncaring; reached through his defences to embrace the memories of her kisses, then, coldly, they dragged them to the surface—submerging him in a rush of frigid sensation.

She found the first mark, a particularly long one near his collarbone. "Was this a knife?" He wished that she wouldn't ask, there were some—one just above his hipbone especially, that was remarkably long and had its origins at the point of a bayonet. He hoped that she wouldn't ask of them, but if she did, he decided that he'd be honest. "Yes." Not quite certain what she had intended to do, he was truly taken aback when she pressed her lips to the raised mound of skin, acting as though she could heal it with her kisses.

It seemed to him then that perhaps her finding the one near his hip wasn't a particularly bad occurrence. Then she bent her head and placed a series of lethargic kisses along his midsection.

He had somehow forced his body to calm, nothing short of a miracle honestly, but now, due to the teasing feeling of her satiny skin across his body, his blood burned once more, and a groan stilled deep in his chest.

Will leaned further over him, for a long moment drenching his senses in her aroma, her lips; her warm, sweet mouth kissed his pectorals, while her hand moved over his arms. She paused to survey his reaction through hooded eyes. "Does that feel the same way…like when you do it to me?"

"Will…" And so it seemed that she was enticing him using the very same techniques that he had used on her last night. Taking his breathlessness as a signal for encouragement, Will placed another warm kiss on the nipple, and then slid across his chest to its twin.

"Will…" he swallowed and held a lock of her red hair before it fell into her eyes, resisting the urge to pull her lips down on his when her face fell at his protests. She shook her head slowly, before kissing his chest again, listening to his shaky breathing and unsteady heartbeat, willing that to give her strength. It was easier to feel brave in the dark, or perhaps it was because of him, he, who she wanted to pleasure just as he had pleasured her.

More than once she encountered a raised section of flesh, those she would trace with her fingers, touching them with her lips, and then tenderly caressing them with her mouth, as though she could make them all vanish. It was obvious that she had never done this before for she would pause every few moments to watch him with her round, curious eyes. Still all the inexperience in the world didn't dampen her eagerness, and she continued along the length of his body, lingering only when she heard him groan.

There was a slight line of hair that led into his privates she discovered, she looked at him for approval, before tenderly marking the trail with kisses. Now, he had become more vocal, whispering her name and reaching for her hands. She fell back onto her knees, tucking some hair behind her ears before crawling closer, "what's wrong?"

A whisper, a mere whisper, but it had driven him insane. He stared half dazed at her lips, that gorgeous pout, God the things she could do with that mouth. "Will…" how to phrase it? What was wrong with him? He wanted her, they had done this before, and…he released her hand. When he did, she kissed him softly atop his mouth as if to placate him.

Lower still, and Caleb swallowed at the sensation of warmth that engulfed him. His skin was flushed and tight; every limb was made taunt and alert. He was so aware of her ministrations, so much so that he could feel every last brush of her soft body; it left him, still, breathless.

"Will."

All thought left him when her hands touched his already aroused shaft. Her caresses lingered far more towards exploration rather than seduction, but it didn't matter, he was too far-gone to know the difference. "Caleb," Her sweet, sultry voice again, rising to linger in between them, "does this feel like when you…"

She didn't get to finish, because at that moment he could no longer keep a chain on his desire. "Will," He pulled her closer and tugged at her lips, "I can't…I can't wait." His entire body seemed to have been tied into large knots of desire, her small, graceful fingers their master. She nodded confidently, although unsure of what to do next. So he guided her along, pressing and pushing, whispering and then pleading with her, until she had welcomed him into her warmth. Only then did she become oblivious to his words, unaware truly of anything other than the sweet tension that taunted her at the place where they joined.

They moved together, blissful in the ignorance of where one ended and the other began…she opened up to swallow him whole, and he unfurled inside of her, watching, with glazed eyes as she trembled atop of him, crying out in a voice made hoarse by whispered wants—

And he followed her. Succumbing to the pressure, to the exquisite pleasure. To anything that she offered, knowing in his heart, that she was giving him everything.

---

"Will," She was in immediate danger of falling asleep on top of him, but somehow she was too blasted content to care. She was aware of him shifting her, easing her off of his body and onto her side. Managing to force a very heavy eyelid open in order to watch him, she grinned when he smiled at her. "Tired?" He whispered.

And she nodded, or at least, she imagined that she did, he tucked her closer to his side, and silently surveyed her face as she welcomed the advances of sleep. "Will." He had made up his mind. "Yes," She mumbled, her words obscured by his skin. "What do you think about coming to England with me?"

"I'd go anywhere with you." His chest rattled with pride when her voice touched his ears. "I'm taking you home."

Home. She really loved the sound of that. "When will we leave?"

"As soon as…"

All sense of drowsiness gone, she raised her head. "Can we leave tomorrow?"

He nearly laughed at the suggestion, but the strange serious look in her eyes hushed the sound in his throat. "I…I don't think that tomorrow…what's the rush? Are you in such hurry to get married?" He raked some of her more unruly hair from her forehead, "because I'd hate to disappoint you, but I don't really think that it'll get any better than this."

"I…I have something to tell you something." She eased herself into a sitting position, her voice faded with the distance, and he followed her upwards, flinching several times when his side protested the movement. "It's important."

"What is it?"

"My grandmother…she doesn't…I mean…" A long deep breath then, "She's arranged for me to be married to someone else. She wants to take me to France to meet him."

He didn't say anything else to interrupt her, and so, interpreting his silence as a signal for her to continue. "She wants me to leave by the end of the week." And she explained in a rushed, low sort of voice each detail as she could recall it. "If…If we could leave tomorrow," She finished, "before she had a chance…"

"How long have you known this?"

"Not very long." Will pressed her arms over her stomach, holding the sheet in place. "She meant to do it since she came here, but she only told me on Saturday. She made me promise that I'd go with her."

His silence was frightening, and slowly, she felt the breezy contentment that had been between them vanish. "Are you upset with me?"

"You should have told me this before…We did all of this…"

"It doesn't change anything."

When he spoke again his voice was odd, she didn't like it. "What if you're…with child?"

"A baby?" She hadn't considered children. Even worse, she couldn't understand why he was being like this—no, she definitely didn't like it one bit. "You told me that I could tell you anything…and this is important."

"You're engaged to someone else."

"It isn't finalised." She turned her face to look at him, only to discover that his eyes were fixed on the wall. "You're…You're scaring me Caleb."

"Shouldn't it scare you? Will, even if I take you away with me your grandmother will follow us. She'll take you back."

"If we're married then she…"

"Do you think that that will stop her?"

She spoke slowly; carefully threading the words that Irma had used to reassure her with around her emotions. "If the marriage is consummated…if I'm not a…virgin…He won't want me. And if I am…with child then…"

He changed suddenly. "Is that it?"

"Is what it?"

"Is that why you wanted to…" Images of her blushing face when she'd whispered her quiet surrender to him rose from his chest to torture him. "…is that why you said that you loved me?"

"I said it because I do."

He chose that exact moment to meet her gaze—a mistake for holding onto any sort of anger that he had created, for in those eyes he saw the dark haze of disappointment, a mixture of sadness and fury that lay stagnant in those orbs. "I know you do." He pulled her closer to him, kissing her temple and gladly relishing in the fact that she hadn't pushed him away. "I'm…sorry Will."

"She won't come for me…she won't be able to find us. Jamestown is massive…I've heard…and…"

"We'll think of something." He promised, although his mind reeled from the mere hints of the improbabilities.

"I'm scared of losing you." She admitted, and he knew then, even though he'd never admit it, that he was a great deal more frightened than she. "The good things are always difficult." He whispered, and she nodded. "Besides, I won't give you up so easily."

"You aren't mad then?"

"You should have told me before."

"I know." And then edging closer she whispered jokingly, "You could have told me the truth about you and Cornelia. So I guess now, we're even."

"Touché." Taking advantage of her closeness he tipped her chin upwards and touched his lips to hers, hoping to allow some of her seemingly endless optimism to seep into his body. She seemed intent on wrapping her arms around him and dragging him closer, but he, once again hesitated. "It seems like a terrible thing to bring up now, but where is your grandmother?"

"I'm not sure. Irma was dealing with it." She didn't want to stop kissing him; she tugged him back down to her level. "And that doesn't worry you in the least?"

"Irma wants…" She kissed him again, "…us to marry far more than I do. I'm not worried." He shifted so that she found a way to crawl atop of him, now, with her hand wrapped in his hair, and the sheet separating them falling away to her side—she felt ridiculously empowered. "I thought you were shy." He mumbled when she drifted downwards, to his collar.

"You want to stop?" She had yet to learn of the effect she had on him—when he wasn't in constant discomfort, he intended on showing her. There, so her optimism was indeed rubbing off. "I'll let you know angel." She smiled at him for a moment before lowering her head and kissing him full on the mouth.

---

Author: This chapter really didn't have anything to do with anything, just some smuff (smex + fluff) to aid you in this time of WillxCaleb withdrawal. This chapter was supposed to have the Cornelia rescue scene, but it's taking me a VERY long time to write and so instead of having you wait God knows how long for an update, I decided to shove in this scene. It isn't much but hey…

Sorry that it's taking so long, but some things have come up this summer and with college around the corner, it's a lot harder than I thought it'd be to update.

Yeah, so…I read somewhere that redheads like to have sex more than other hair colours. Random fact I thought I'd use. Also, yes I know that there is no plausible way that Caleb could have so much action considering his injury, but hell—season two sucked, I deserve a little something something.

Review loves!