Page 52 of Daring the Forbidden Earl
Mark’s eyes shone with desire. “Do you want me to make love to you, my darling wife?”
“I would like nothing more, my dear husband,” she replied coquettishly, as she pushed away the slight hint of anxiety that bristled in her abdomen. Intercourse held no good memories for her, but she hoped that tonight would remedy that, as it had already remedied a great many things.
Mark chuckled. “As you wish.”
He carried her into the bedchamber, where a fire blazed in the grate, drenching the room in a romantic haze of warmth. There, he swung her into a different hold, so her legs were wrapped around his waist and his hands were supporting the firm rise of her buttocks. She did not know what he intended to do with this position, but she was eager to find out.
Gazing deep into her eyes, Mark settled himself down on the edge of the bed, shuffling back slightly so he would not topple forward to the floor. Bringing her knees into a kneeling position, she reached for the fastening of his undergarments and pulled them away from his hips. He did the rest, edging them down his legs until they pooled on the floor, where he promptly kicked them away.
“Are you entirely certain?” He pushed the strands of her long hair behind her shoulders.
Johanna nodded. “I am.”
She took that moment to steal a glance downward, and almost gasped in surprise as she observed the size of his manhood. It was thick and lengthy, with a broad tip that she was eager to feel inside her. Especially as she was quite certain he knew how to bring a woman pleasure with it.
He pulled her head down toward his and kissed her with a refreshed zeal. Their lips pressed ravenously together, their tongues probing, while Mark’s hands gripped the supple plumpness of her backside. And as they kissed, the motion of his hands bringing her hips closer to his, she felt the first graze of his manhood against her entrance.
A gasp pealed from between her lips, and she knew she could not wait any longer. Emboldened by the promise they had made to one another, to go to Gretna Green and marry, she reached down and took hold of his hard, thick length. Pulling it back toward herself, she lifted up her hips until she felt the broad tip rested against the slick warmth of her sex.
“Mmm… Johanna…” Mark moaned, sparking new bursts of pleasure within her.
With tantalizing slowness, she lowered herself down upon his member, taking him inside her inch by thrilling inch until he filled her completely. To her delighted surprise, there was no pain, as there had been so many years ago. Instead, there was only a delicious pulse of bliss that branched out through her body, making her feel as though every fragment of her was ablaze with wildfire.
She sat there for a moment, growing accustomed to the forgotten sensation. And then, eager to find out what else lay in store, she began to rock her hips back and forth, feeling the fire of rapture build each time he slid out of her and sank back in to the hilt. With each swell and ebb of her hips, her gasps came harder, until she was clinging to Mark’s shoulders, and crying out like a woman possessed. And she had not even reached her peak yet.
Meanwhile, Mark slid his hand down toward her bud, letting his fingertips repeat the movements that had made her shake and tremble before. It was almost more than she could bear as she rocked her hips faster, meeting every thrust of his until they were moving in perfect unison. But he did not neglect the rest of her, his mouth seeking out her throat, her breasts, her mouth, her jaw, her shoulders, until she thought the world around her might melt away, unable to endure the intensity any longer.
“Oh… Yes… Yes, my love… Oh…” Johanna arched her back and gripped tighter to his shoulders, bracing herself so she could rock ever faster against him. She could feel the swell of euphoria gathering within her once more, shivering and splintering through her like fiery streams of powerful pleasure.
Seemingly spurred on her by her encouragement, Mark added more pressure to his fingertips, as his thrusts continued to match the motion of Johanna’s frantic hips.
Then, in a moment of perfect synchronicity, they both cried out at once as they reached their blissful peaks, and let those consuming, shivering, shuddering, intoxicating waves of overwhelming ecstasy course through them. Johanna’s muscles tightened around Mark’s pulsating member as he spilled his seed within her, prompting her to buck in delight as she felt every tiny pulse set off a fresh chain of sparks inside her.
“I love you with all my heart,” Johanna whispered, as she lolled forward into his arms and held him tight.
His arms encircled her in return. “As I love you with all mine.” He nuzzled into her neck. “Indeed, we should think about departing for Gretna Green as soon as possible, for I have never done what I have just done with you.”
She pulled back slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I have never spilled my seed… inside before,” he said, somewhat shyly. “And if there are to be children, I would like them to be legitimate.”
A smile spread across Johanna’s face. “My love, so would I.”
After seven years of living with a husband who would not even touch her, leaving Johanna with no hope of ever having legitimate children, she realized she might be about to get everything she had ever wanted—love, a happy marriage, and children to fill up her heart, and complete her home.
The trouble was, the more she allowed herself to hope, the more she stood to lose if it all came crashing down.
Chapter Thirty
Mark whistled cheerfully to himself as he wandered downstairs, having slept more soundly than he had done in… He could not even remember when. Of course, he would have preferred to wake up beside Johanna, but she had insisted that he return to his own home late last night, so he could begin to make preparations for their departure.
They had agreed to leave for Gretna Green tomorrow morning, which would give him plenty of time to arrange a suitable carriage and tell anyone he wished to tell. He was not yet sure if he would inform Liam and Kenneth until he returned, so they could not stage some kind of intervention. Kenneth, in particular.
“You seem to be in a fine temperament this morning, My Lord,” Chalke said, appearing from the right-hand corridor with a timely tray of poached eggs and a pot of tea.
Mark beamed from ear to ear. “I should say that I am, Chalke. It is truly a beautiful morning.”
Chalke glanced out of the front window, where a gray and gloomy downpour was presently lashing against the pane. “If you insist, My Lord. Will you take your breakfast in the dining room, or will you be retreating to drawing room again?”
