The Titan Drowns: Time Travel Romance by Nhys Glover (highly recommended books .txt) 📕

her hand, placing it on the growing thing that was now lying flat against his belly. She recognised the feel of it from before, and as she touched the thing it jerked in response.

‘What is that?’ she asked, in astonished curiosity.

‘That is what will join us. Soon. However, I want to prepare you first.’

Before she could ask how, he was dipping his fingers deeper into her core and her legs fell apart automatically to give him greater access. When she realised what she was doing, she tried to draw her legs together. But he wouldn’t let her.

‘Don’t… please. I know you feel vulnerable spread open like this but that is what I need to see right now. You have no idea what the sight of you like that does to me.’ He moved his fingers and she jerked against his hand. Then he was stroking her with those fingers in the damp cleft between her legs and she felt the tension inside her building even higher. Her skin was so hot and clammy she didn’t know what to do with herself. All she could do was writhe against his clever hand as it pleasured her.

There came a point when he clamped his mouth around one nipple and sucked hard on it while he touched her down below and something happened, something incredible, and she felt her body explode with pleasure until she was crying out, just as Karl had done not long ago.

He lifted his mouth from her breast as she came back to earth.

‘Did I release my seed?’ she asked, as she felt the tension building again and she wriggled under his still moving hand.

‘In a way. I am going to replace my hand with my pe… manhood now. Are you okay?’

She nodded mutely, wondering what was to come. It couldn’t be better than what he had just done to her.

But then he was pressing the hard cylinder of flesh into her and she felt her body stretch to accommodate it. When she thought there was no more room inside her, he stopped. For a long moment, he stayed still, holding the weight of his body off her with his muscular arms as he looked down into her face.

‘Okay?’ he asked.

She nodded again. 'It doesn't hurt like last time.'

Then he was drawing back from her and she didn’t want him to go. Had reminding him of that other man turned him from her? Before she had time to feel the full sting of his rejection, he was driving back into her body once more. The sensation was slicker and more pleasurable this time. When he pulled back again she let him, knowing what was to come. When he thrust into her this time, harder and faster, she felt it right at the deepest part of her, and little ripples of pleasure started to make their way outward from that centre.

‘Ohhhh….’ She gripped the blanket beneath her convulsively as she waited for the next thrust.

Then he was moving steadily faster and faster, thrusting into her body as his skin became damp and hot and his muscles rigid with tension. And she found she was going with the movement, feeling her way, matching her rhythm to his. Lizzie watched his face as the sensations built. Sweating, features strained with deep concentration, he pounded into her again and again. She met his every throbbing thrust until she felt that strange explosion rippling through her again. Her body stiffened in response and she rode out the exquisite pleasure, only partly aware of the sound of Karl crying out above her as he rammed home one more time.

They were soaked with perspiration as they lie next to each other, bodies satiated and still.

‘I didn’t know…’

‘Hmmm?’ He nosed into her neck, found her ear and began to nibble on the lobe. Her body responded with another wave of pleasure.

‘That. What we did. I didn’t know that was “joining.”’

‘Hmmm.’ He bit down a little harder on her lobe and she moaned.

‘I thought it would hurt like… like with…’

‘Do not say his name. He does not exist. This was when you really lost your virginity and when I lost mine. Everything else… gone as if it never was.’

‘Women say it is uncomfortable even when it doesn’t hurt. I do not find it so.’

‘Good. I did it right, then. Now shhhh… I am tired. Sleep for a little while, hmmm?’

She nodded her head. Now that she thought about it, she was tired too. Exhausted, in fact, and with his body plastered to hers, she let herself drift off into peaceful oblivion.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Marco

 

‘Marco, what the hell are you doing? That’s the wrong plate!’ The Sous-Chef yelled at him in rapid and guttural Italian.

Marco looked down at the plate in his hand. It was supposed to be a quail’s egg entrée for Table 31, but instead he held a chocolate fondant. He frowned in confusion, put the plate back where he found it and looked around for his own order.

‘Your head is somewhere else. Get it back here before you find yourself out on your arse!’ This was the chef who had heard the reprimand over the general din in the kitchen. All the meals were laid out on the long, wide side-boards with their numbers next to them. Each was in a specific area allocated to a different waiter and his tables. It was an easy matter to come in, check your area and scoop up the food that was ready to go. However, for some reason, Marco had picked up a plate in another waiter’s area.

He looked up at the chef with vague eyes and nodded. It almost felt like he was drunk. Nothing was making any sense to him today. He had gone through the morning and now the luncheon rush in a blur. People spoke to him but he didn’t understand them. The only thing that made sense to him was the smile of a lovely, young woman who thought she was from the future.

In his mind, he had gone over and over their strange conversation that morning. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. After not seeing her for a whole day and believing he had lost her forever, she had come to him, offering herself to him like a dream. Her story about the ship sinking and being from the future was just nonsense. Even so, he would go along with her until he could prove her wrong. Then he would care for her as she unravelled the confusion in her head.

However, he was the one confused in the head, or that was what the Chef would have him believe. And if he was making mistakes like this one, then he was probably right. A woman wasn’t worth ruining his life over. And he needed the tips he would get from this journey to start his new life. Start his new life with Pia, his inner voice added.

He scooped up the right plate and hurried out into the dining room. It was busy. More than the usual numbers of patrons were eating with them today. Gardi had said that this was common at this stage in every journey. The passengers were becoming bored with the Dining Saloon and their choices there. They wanted a change of scene and different (“superior” was Gardi’s word) food to eat.

Whatever the reason, the result was the same. They were being run off their feet and the tips were handsome. The cashiers, two young girls who were distantly related to Gardi, had told them the total so far today. It was higher than for any day to date. He couldn’t afford to throw all of that away by being distracted.

Giving his patron, a bluff old army major with a walrus moustache, his quail eggs and a winning smile, he saw Paulo clearing Table 32. He had proven to be an excellent assistant: fast, careful and efficient. Marco rarely had to correct him. The boy had become a friend, too, his easy manner and friendly loyalty a balm for the wounds the grudging looks and snubs from the other staff unerringly left behind.

The staff from the second Ritz restaurant in London hadn’t known him, but it just took a few negative comments about him from those who did for his reputation to spread. That Paulo ignored the other men’s attitude and accepted their slights because of the side he’d taken only increased his affection for his assistant. They had become the ‘us’ to the many ‘them.’ It felt good to have someone on his side for a change.

‘Busy,’ Paulo commented as he passed.

He put on his best smile and was slightly mollified to realise that it was Mr Ingham and two of his friends who were being directed to the table. The man regularly chose to sit in his area. He liked to think it was because he provided superior service. It couldn’t be the location itself, because they were the closest area to the kitchen, which made it busier and noisier than elsewhere in the elegant, gilded room.

‘Marco, you will be joining us so I have been informed,’ Ingham said with genuine warmth.

Marco had liked the man right from the first meal. He was not one to put on airs and graces but treated everyone the same, calling him by his name, asking his opinion about the selections for the day. And he was not a big eater. At some meals, he would only have one course. Other times, when he dined with friends he would have more, but he was never one of those who gorged himself on one course after another.

‘Joining you, sir?’ He had no idea what Ingham meant.

‘Pia has told you about what is to come?’ The gentlemen at the table exchanged guarded looks.

‘Pia? Oh… oh, yes. She has told me. I… do not really know…’

‘It is all very overwhelming at first, I do understand, and totally unbelievable. However, I have seen evidence with my own eyes that what they tell us is true.’

Marco stared at the man in shocked surprise. He knew that Mary… no Eilish… had been with this man the other night and it had partly got through to him then that Ingham was somehow involved, but this overt discussion of this fanciful tale was more than he expected. He believed the delusion went no further than Pia. That she would soon realise her mistake and then let him help her back to sanity had been his only goal. But now he saw that there were others involved in this insane hoax – respected, intelligent men. Could it be real?

‘Yes, sir.’ He settled on a waiter’s neutral comeback.

‘You have a little time to come around to it. Has she told you when it happens?’

‘Not… exactly, sir. Soon, is all she said.’

‘Yes, too soon. I will just have the chicken chasseur and some fruit and cheese for dessert. You, Carter?’

‘Eating with you is such a relief, Ingham. Those endless courses down stairs drive me to distraction.’ The man called Carter grinned at Ingham and then Marco. ‘Pia is a sweetheart. You are a lucky man; I hope you know that.’

‘You… you know Pia?’ he stammered in surprise.

‘We have worked as part of the Retrieval team for many years, although I am part of the adult team and Pia works with the children.’

‘You… you are from the f…’

‘A little circumspection, please. Yes, Finn and I both are. He was the man with the dark skin who was with us the other night.’

‘I see…’ But he didn’t. How could the men all think that they were from the future? It was like some secret club they all belonged to. And within that club, they shared wild ideas and performed outlandish rituals.

‘I will have the