Page 51 of Daring the Forbidden Earl
“I do not know if I am dreaming. Have I fallen asleep, my darling? Will I awaken to find that you never came here, and all of this has been a figment of my tired imagination?” Truly, it did not seem real to Johanna.
Is there really a way in which we can marry? Might this be true?
For a moment, her fractured thoughts rested on London’s gossipmongers. They would likely explode if they discovered that she had remarried so soon after her husband’s death, and to her husband’s nephew, no less. Perhaps, aspersions would be cast that there had been some foul play, or that Johanna had always been waiting for the younger man.
And yet, as she looked back up into Mark’s eyes, she found she did not care what the scandal sheets might write about her. She did not care what anyone had to say about them. She cared only about him, and the friends who were dear to her. After all, she was not truly a part of high society, so why should she allow them to sway her decisions?
“You are awake, Sweeting,” Mark assured, looking more worried by the second. “And there is another reason that I am asking. I want to marry you because I love you, first and foremost, but also to protect you. This is the only way we will be able to prevent Lord Dresday from causing us harm. If we are wed, he cannot stand between us. Though we will have to reside at my country manor instead of London, if you do not object?”
In truth, Johanna hated these silent apartments, which reminded her of a marriage that she now abhorred wholeheartedly. Even before she had discovered the truth of her husband, she had despised being in this quiet, lonely place. And though she would miss having Nora nearby, she knew her friends would visit as often as they pleased. She mustered a nervous smile. “Then… nothing would make me happier, my darling. Yes! Yes, I will marry you. Yes, I will go to Gretna Green with you, and yes, I will live with you at your manor. And if anyone takes issue with that, I do not care a jot! We will be wed, and we will be safe, and we will begin our life together properly.”
“Truly? You are quite serious?” Mark raised a cautious eyebrow.
She nodded effusively. “I do not know if I have ever been more serious about anything in all my life.”
“You consent to be my wife?” Excitement crept into Mark’s voice.
“Must I say it a thousand times, my darling? Yes! Let us put this unpleasantness behind us and be truly, insanely happy!” She grinned up at him, feeling her former sadness slough away as he scooped her up into his arms and swung her around. Once they were married, they would have all the time in the world to speak about their past woes and miseries. But, for now, she was content to enjoy this pure moment of absolute elation.
As Mark set her back down on the ground, she lifted up on tiptoe so she could press her lips to his with a newfound hunger. For this would not be the kiss of two lovers without a hope of a future. This would be the first kiss between a wife and her husband, though the official vows and such would come later.
His mouth met hers eagerly, their lips moving in a familiar, passionate rhythm as his hands trailed up the curved line of her spine, making her shiver with anticipation. She had forgotten just how exquisite it was to be touched and kissed and adored by him, and the absence of him for the past few days had only made her more desperate to feel him again.
“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth.
“As I love you,” she replied, parting her lips so their tongues could join in the delicious dance.
Sinking deeper into their kiss, Johanna’s breath grew ragged with passion. With every gasping pant, she pressed closer into his solid chest, and pushed her hips against his, until she could feel the hardened outline of his member, straining beneath his trousers. In return, clearly feeling the same need to be closer to her, Mark pressed her up against the wall of the study and raised her arms above her head, stroking his fingertips up the lengths of their soft skin until his fingers entwined with hers.
With her arms still above her head, Johanna smiled as she felt Mark reach for the hem of her gown and lift it upward. He did not stop until the garment was on the floor, where it was swiftly followed by her shift, and her stays. Meanwhile, she set to work upon the buttons of his waistcoat, and his shirt, and the fastening of his trousers, until they stood before each other in naught but their undergarments… and the strip of cotton around Mark’s bicep.
“You are divine, my love,” Mark purred.
Johanna smiled, her cheeks red with warmth. “As are you.” Her eyes observed the sculpted contours of his chest, and followed the cut lines of his toned abdomen, all the way down to the swollen protrusion that jutted from beneath his undergarments.
However, before she could reach out to take hold of it, and experiment with some of the suggestions in Nora’s letter, his hands unfastened the ribbon of her drawers and let them fall to the ground, skimming down her milky thighs. A second later, his fingertips slid over the mound at the peak of her thighs, and separated the petals of her already slick cleft.
She gasped and threw her head back, clutching onto his strong arms, as his forefingers began to strum against the swell of her secret bud. Truly, there was magic in his fingertips.
“Oh, Mark… Oh…” She arched her spine as his forefingers slipped lower and came to pause at the heat of her entrance. All the while, in some miraculous feat of sexual prowess, he maintained the blissful strum against her secret bud with the pad of his thumb.
Her fingernails dug into his arms, though she was careful to avoid his injury, as he slowly pushed his two forefingers inside her. Unleashing a rasping gasp of overwhelming elation, she began to roll her hips back and forth, matching the rhythm of his gently thrusting fingers until she could not even hear herself think over the cries that escaped her throat.
Pressing his body against hers, until they were skin to skin, his lips left a searing trail of passion along the curve of her neck and down to the rise of her bosom. She bucked as his mouth found a taut nipple and sucked upon it in that delicious way that made her lose all sense of everything. There was only him, and her, and the pleasure that crackled and sparked between them.
“Oh… Oh goodness… Oh!” Out of nowhere, the building crescendo of ecstasy within her suddenly crashed through her veins, tightening the muscles of her abdomen, and making her legs shake violently as the waves of euphoria swept through her again and again. Indeed, it came upon her so suddenly, that she did not even cry out. Instead, she clung onto Mark, her mouth open in a frozen “o” while a held breath stayed captured in her throat.
It has been much too long…
Finally, that held breath transformed into a last, thrilling gasp of pleasure, before the tide of her ecstasy ebbed.
Slumping from the indescribable barrage of exhilaration, Johanna felt Mark catch her in his arms, lifting her up into a bridal carry. Indeed, she could easily have gone to sleep right there in his embrace, but she did not want their encounter to be over just yet.
“I want you, my love,” she breathed huskily. “I was tricked the last time, but I know you will not fool me.”
Mark’s eyebrows raised a touch. “Are you certain, Sweeting? I am content to wait until we are married. In truth, I would wait years for you.” He smiled. “In a way, I already have.”
“It will be days until we are able to find our way to Gretna Green,” Johanna insisted. “So… let us make tonight our wedding night and have another when we are legally married.”
