by Fiona Miers
Hannah moaned and opened her legs wider. She seemed to come back to herself and looked down at him again.
“And I can do this to you?” She asked, placing her hands on her hips as though she didn’t really believe him.
John’s mouth went dry. She could, but he wasn’t sure he could allow such a thing.
“You can…” he said slowly, licking her again to distract her.
Hannah wiggled and laughed. “Why do you say it like that?”
“Because ladies don’t usually.” John groaned as he nuzzled her inside thigh.
“But you’re doing it to me.” Hannah gasped, arching her back slightly.
“True, but I don’t do this often either.”
Something burned in Hannah’s eyes and she lifted her pelvis up to him. John smiled as he dipped his head, drawing her swollen nub into his mouth. He sucked gently and inserted his middle finger deep inside her.
Hannah moaned and grabbed at the mattress either side of her. John inserted a second finger, enjoying the tight clasp of her body around him.
“You are so wet, you want me.”
Hannah laughed and thrashed. “Of course I want you, stupid man,” she muttered, her back arching up as John found that sweet spot inside of her. “Oh… goodness…”
John flicked his tongue over her clitoris until he could feel her tightening inside, her body squeezing his fingers. If she was still able to talk, then she was nowhere near close enough.
He worked on her and worked on her, lapping up her juices whilst his fingers stretched and filled her. Just as he felt her muscles tighten again John stopped.
“John, no, please,” Hannah begged as he withdrew his fingers and moved up her body.
John pulled up Hannah’s knees and looked into her eyes, seeing the very soul of who this kind beautiful woman was, and hoping that this would be only one of many times he saw it.
“We come together this time,” he breathed and sunk slowly into her.
John had never taken a virgin before, had never thought he would have to. Hannah’s body welcomed him with its warm, wet clasp, but she was so tight. It felt like heaven to him, but he was sure she didn’t feel the same way. He looked down into her blue eyes and kissed her deeply.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her tongue between his lips. Thus distracted, John thrust hard, breaking through the barrier and planting himself firmly within her.
Hannah cried out and stiffened beneath him.
Some part of him marveled at the fact that a woman as old and as handsome as Hannah had been a virgin, but he didn’t doubt her integrity. She wouldn’t have lied. It didn’t suit her personality.
John didn’t move. He wanted to give her body time to adjust to the intrusion of his. The sweat began to bead on his forehead, but he still didn’t move.
After what felt like an eternity, Hannah began to relax. Her legs that had locked him in place began to shift restlessly and she began stroking his back again.
John could have shouted in joy.
He began to move. Withdrawing slowly and then thrusting back a little harder. His spitfire from America began to respond too. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist and John said a little prayer for strength.
He picked up the pace and began to thrust harder and harder, Hannah’s moans spurring him on. She began to thrash, her nails digging into his shoulders so harshly she could have drawn blood. He didn’t care.
“John, I’m going to…” Hannah gasped into his ear, her head coming off the pillow.
John’s own pleasure multiplied as her body contracted around him.
“Give it to me, come for me, only me,” John moaned in time with Hannah as she shouted and spasmed around him, over and over again.
John’s own orgasm began, hot fire racing down his legs as his balls tightened and pulsed between his thighs. At the very last moment, he realized what he was doing and jerked back, pulling out just in time to spill himself on the sheets between Hannah’s legs.
John fell onto her breasts, overwhelmed by the most intense orgasm of his life.
Believing he should get up, John pushed up to leave her. He had to be too heavy and he was covered in sweat. Surely she must hate him for such a thing.
Hannah wouldn’t let him get up, she grabbed him and tried to pull him back down. But that didn’t make sense to him, so he tried again. This time she fixed him with a gimlet stare.
“Lie down. I like holding you.”
John smiled reluctantly, he liked it too. He reached across and found a towel to put down beneath them and lay back on her. Her breastbone cushioned his cheek and her arms went around his shoulders.
John breathed deeply, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Hannah.
“That was so amazing. Thank you.” Hannah sighed, running her hands through his hair again and again.
The move was comforting, as was her closeness. He’d never experienced anything like it before, and for the more experienced of the two, he was no longer feeling like it.
“And we can enjoy it as much as we want, forever.” John sighed, comfortable knowing they would have a good future together. He couldn’t guarantee anything of course, but she rocked his world in the bed chamber. That had to count for something towards a good future.
Rupert had said it would.
He nuzzled in closer and suddenly noticed the difference in Hannah. She was no longer stroking his hair, she was unnaturally still.
“What do you mean John?”
John pulled himself up so that he could lay on his side and face Hannah.
“I want to marry you as soon as possible.”
There, he had said it. He hadn’t thought it would be so easy.
“I don’t think so,” Hannah murmured, sliding out of John’s reach and continuing out of bed.
John watched her beautiful body disappear from view beneath her chemise slip, then her night dress. What had happened? They’d shared, what he’d believed to be an incredible moment, and he’d done what he’d thought she’d want. Marriage. A proper proposal. Wasn’t that why she was in London?
“Hannah, I don’t understand. I thought that was what you wanted. You came to bed with me.”
She turned around to face him and tied her dressing gown beneath her breasts. “I know I did and it was wonderful. But I came to learn about love making. To indulge myself with a rake, I never expected you to offer for me.” Hannah’s face flushed scarlet as she said the words and anger stirred in John’s belly.
“So you are refusing me?” John asked, his tone colder than he intended.
Hannah sat on the bed and looked at him with soulful eyes.
“John, you are a renowned rake. You told me yourself that love was for fools and any woman was replaceable and interchangeable. How could I marry a man who felt that way about me?”
John swallowed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away and turned his head so she wouldn’t see.
He had said that, and he had been a fool. His pride was balking at her rejection and his teeth were setting in anger. Holding on to the last of his dignity he turned back to her.
“Thank you for a wonderful night, and for your virginity.”
Hannah frowned at him and John bit his tongue, the devil in his mind lashing out at her.
She stood up and straightened her spine, flicking her long hair over her shoulders so that it flowed around her like a sunset ocean.
“Thank you for your experience, I’m sure no one else could have done such a good a job,” Hannah said in clipped tones as she slipped out the door.
John sat in his empty bed looking at the door for a long time after she left. How had it come to this? How had he been reduced to this sad, empty shell of his former self?
Where was the fire and rage that had once fueled him?
He rolled back onto the pillows and fell into a fitful sleep, unsure of what tomorrow would bring.
Chapter 11.
Hannah t
ugged on her walking dress lace and sighed as the ladies maid applied another flower to her upswept hair.
“Don’t you think that’s enough Anne-Marie?”
“Yes, madam. If you think so.” The girl grabbed her things and hurried from the room and Hannah was struck with guilt.
It wasn’t Anne-Marie's fault that she was in a foul temper. She’d slept terribly, tossing and turning most of the night.
She had achieved her goal, she had enjoyed one night in John’s bed. She knew what to expect in her marriage, and she had now appeased that terrible need that had been clawing at her since John had entered her life.
But what to make of the terrible fuss he’d made after their lovemaking had been done?
Why had he proposed marriage to her? Surely not out of guilt or a need to do the right thing. She didn’t think John had such tender feelings.
“Stop it.” She pushed herself to her feet and glared at her reflection. She would not be brought down by a man like John Dunford.
She had a real gentleman to walk with today, and more men to meet tonight. One of them would surely be respectable, and still, arouse her body the way John did.
Her shoulders sagged. Damn it. Even her thoughts betrayed her. But they did have a point. She wanted to feel the passion, and first tendrils of love for her husband, that she experienced with John.
However, she needed to feel them with a man who was right for her.
She nodded her head once and strode out the door, bouncing down the stairs and into the foyer.
“Miss Turner. I am to accompany you to the park today.”
Mabbs, the elderly housekeeper stepped up to her, a parasol in hand.
“Oh really? Is Charlotte feeling unwell?”
She assumed her cousin’s wife would want to be the one to accompany her. Charlotte seemed to have more interest in Hannah’s making a good match than Hannah did.
“Lady Turner is abed. The doctor advised her to rest.”
That didn’t sound good. “Oh, perhaps I should stay then.”
“No miss. We must go. Lady Turner demanded it.”
Of course, she did.
Hannah released a sigh. “Thank you, Mabbs.”
She moved to the front door and there was a creak behind her. She turned, her heart leaping into her chest as John walked down the stairs, slowly. Deliberately. Staring at her.
“Enjoy your walk, Miss Turner. I’m sure Dovey will put on a good show for you.”
The twist in his lips made her fists clench as she twisted the handle on the parasol.
Just because they had been intimate, did not give John Dunford any control over her.
“I’m sure he will, Lord Dunford. Good day.”
She turned and strode out the front door and hurried to the waiting carriage. Her chaperone followed her and together they made their way to central park.
He was there waiting for her, so as soon as the carriage stopped she got out, extending her hand for Lord Doveton.
“Good day, Sir.”
“Good day, Lady Hannah.”
“Hannah, please.”
The smile on his face dropped and he tried to hide it by kissing her hand and then turning to walk beside her.
“Shall we?”
They began ambling along the narrow road that winded through a rather odd looking park to her. So manicured. So unnatural. Nothing like the wildness of the parks at home.
“Tell me more about yourself Lord Doveton.”
“Well, my father is a Baron and my mother is a Marquees’ daughter. They live in Kent most of the year and I spend as much time in London as I can.”
She frowned and looked up towards the blue sky, trying not to judge the man beside her too harshly. What sort of person defined themselves in that way?
“Do you ride horses, Lord Doveton?”
“Oh no, not at all. Unclean beasts.” Doveton practically shuddered and Hannah stifled the loud sigh she felt building up. He was making this a little too hard.
Why did she know that John would never answer in such a way? She didn’t want someone who was obviously a social climber, preferred town and defined himself by his birth.
John seemed to hate his responsibilities and loved horses. She wasn’t sure about his preference for town, they’d never talked about it.
She shook her head to clear her muddled thoughts. She had to stop thinking about John.
“Are you looking to marry soon, Lord Doveton?”
That question made him smile and he indicated to a park bench where they could sit.
She sat, despite the fact that it meant she had to look straight at the gentleman who she had been recommended to for a future spouse. At closer range, she could see the unhealthy pallor of his skin and the slight yellow tinge that she knew indicated excessive alcohol.
How John did not have that same colour, she did not know. Probably the excessive boxing and riding that Charlotte had mentioned he did often.
Her eyes fell to Lord Doveton’s waist and a shudder shivered up her spine. What sort of soft paunch belly would he have? How would she be able to be with a man that did not compare favourably to John?
“I am, very much in favour of marrying this year… Hannah.”
He reached over to take her hand and there was a twist in her gut that was not at all pleasant.
“Are you financially independent, my lord?” She asked sweetly, deciding to weed out just what sort of man this was.
“I… ah, rely on an income of sorts like most men of my rank.”
So, in other words, he was looking for a dowry.
She waited for a question and finally, he, asked. “I believe, being American, you would have something to contribute to the marriage as well?”
She did. A considerable amount, but she didn’t want to buy herself a husband, and certainly not one who did not live up to her standards of what a person should be. Honest. Strong. Healthy.
“I am a hard worker, a pious, generous soul. I was told that was what gentlemen in London would value.” Hannah forced out, her tongue turning to ash as she baited the man before her. She was no longer chaste, but he did not need to know that.
“Oh... well… I did not expect… being American I…” He stammered over his words and now she wasn’t sure what he was trying to say.
Her temper began to boil as her brain drew all sorts of conclusions together, one of which was that being with John for a night had been a good idea. They didn’t expect her to come to them intact anyway. “What do you mean Doveton? That you assumed that being American that I would not be virtuous? Or that I would have plenty of money? Which one made you more inclined to marry me?”
His eyes widened and his mouth opened and shut like a simpleton.
She glared at him and huffed. “Well?”
She certainly could not marry a man who couldn’t keep up with her in conversation. That was the very least of her criteria. He could be old, balding and pudgy, but at least be honest.
And have a clever and quick mind.
Like John.
When Doveton still had not answered, she lost her temper.
“Grr…” She stood up, turned around and marched back to the carriage, her shadow trailing behind her.
The footman scampered down off the carriage but she was too impatient to wait, throwing open the door and climbing inside herself. The housekeeper wasn’t far behind her.
She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed the whole way home. Was this really the cream de la cream of London society? She had been sadly mistaken if this was the case.
When she got back to Charlotte’s townhouse she jumped out of the carriage and went straight inside, heading for her cousin’s study. Hopefully, John wasn’t in there too.
She knocked on his door and pushed it open, finding Archie reading a document at his desk.
“Can I have a moment, cousin?”
Archie nodded, giving her a soft smile. “Of course, Hannah. How can I help you?”
; She marched in and sat down on the soft leather chair, feeling very much like a woman on a mission. Her life had just become a sorry-state-of-affairs.
“I would like to marry. I have reached an age where I want a family and a home of my own.”
She loved her parents, but it was time to move on to her own life. She had begrudged their interference initially in sending her here, but now she saw the wisdom of it.
Archie blinked at her and leaned back in his chair. “I imagined that was why you came to London.”
Archie’s calmness had a settling effect on Hannah and she relaxed into her chair, finally seeing how Charlotte and Archie’s opposite personality’s meshed together so well.
“I did, however, I believe I haven’t been focusing correctly.”
No, she’d been too busy shopping and socializing and falling for a handsome rake who was just not suitable. She may have money, but not enough to be able to stay in London forever, living on a whim.
“You have done everything right so far cousin, please don’t be harsh on yourself. You settled in with us over the break, bought new clothes, socialized. That is all anyone ever does.”
“Well, I am not attracting the right suitors.”
Archie’s solemn face changed to one of amusement, his lips perking up on each side. “Doveton did not suit you?”
She rolled her eyes and glared at her cousin. “You know he doesn’t. The man can barely string a sentence together.”
“And he needs a fortune.”
She continued to glare at her cousin. “Why did you not stop me from meeting him if you knew that?”
Archie shrugged. “Fortune hunters are not all vicious, everyone needs to live. And I assumed you would work it all out on your own Hannah. You are a very clever young woman.”
The compliment stopped any anger than had accumulated and she relaxed once more into her chair. “Archie, I need your help. Can you introduce me to any gentlemen that you think may be suitable?”
Archie sat forward in his chair. “I could if you gave me some of the things you would like in a gentleman.”
The door swung open and John stepped in.
“Oh. Hannah. I didn’t know you were in here.”
