by Anna Edwards
Joanna settles herself back on the bed and opens her legs wide for me. She gives me the gift of her pussy and the numbers in my head go haywire.
Two times nine is sixteen, no eighteen. Fuck.
“Theo, take me,” Joanna begs, but I can’t answer her. I can’t look at her.
“Three times four is…fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Theo, look at me,” my wife demands, and the words pull my head up from looking at her perfect pussy to her beautiful face. “Twelve,” she tells me.
“What?” I’m confused and shake my head.
“Three times four...”
Shit. I can’t have kept my controlling math as deep within my head as I thought I had.
“I’m sorry.” I sit back up on the bed. “I’m completely fucking this up.”
She snorts a little laugh and then shakes her head.
“No, you’re not. You’re a smart man and your using your head to make love to me.” She points to where my brain is analyzing every minute detail and coming up with the wrong answer. “But you need to use this, instead,” she says, placing her hand over my heart.
“I’m so scared of hurting you, though.”
“And that’s why you’re making love to me like I’m broken. I want you to fuck me. Show me how it should be. Show me the feelings I saw on your face when I watched you come. That’s what I need, and you’re the only person who can give it to me.”
I can’t help but feel a total loser at her words. So much for being an alpha male. I’ve been approaching this from totally the wrong frame of mind. Joanna is stronger than she looks. I’ve told her enough times. If I want her, I should just take her and show her how making love can really be.
I nod slowly at her and tentatively reach out to touch her pussy with my left hand.
She gasps, but it’s not out of fear. It’s pure wanton desire. I run my fingers over her pussy lips and part them to reveal the delicate bud of her clit hidden beneath. It’s peeking out from its hood, needing my attention. With my tongue, I taste the length of her warm feminine flesh. It’s pure in its innocence and desire. She tastes like my perfect woman.
Joanna moans and grabs the sheets beneath her.
“More.”
I oblige, feasting on her pussy. My tongue tantalizes her clit and then dips into her hole to lap at the essence flowing from within her. She’s more than ready for me, but I want to give her an orgasm first. I push a finger inside her. At first, there is a little resistance, but that disappears the second I press my tongue to her clit and flick it.
“More,” she cries again, arching off the bed. “Make me a proper woman. Make me normal.”
I push another finger inside her to join the one already there and hook them up to rub at the sensitive spot within her. My tongue flicks harder and harder over her clit.
“Oh my god. I’m…I’m…. God.”
I use my teeth to nip at her clit, and that is all she needs to fly free, for the first time of her own choosing. A broken angel no longer. She cries out with the pleasure cascading through her, her body jerking as she comes. Her pussy clenches down on my fingers, massaging them with the powerful waves of her first pure, beautiful orgasm. It’s the single best experience of my life: watching her find herself. I guide her down after and allow her a moment’s rest before withdrawing my fingers and moving up and over her to position my dick at her entrance.
She doesn’t need to say anything to me. The look of affection in her eyes is her consent, but she knows I need to hear the words.
“I need you inside me, please.” A beautiful melody to my ears that has me slowly pushing into her. Her moist heat embraces my dick within its welcoming haven, and I lose my mind and almost my cum like a schoolboy experiencing his first sexual encounter.
“Now you can use your timetables, if you want,” Joanna teases. “I want to come again.”
“Bossy!” I laugh and slap her backside. I instantly worry it’s too much for her, but her pussy clenching around my dick tells me it’s something she enjoyed.
“Don’t let me lose you now, Theo.”
“You’re not going to.” I withdraw and then slam back in. Joanna lets out a squeal of pleasure.
“Fuck me.” Her legs clench tighter around my body as we settle for the missionary position. The traditional position for a newly married couple. I allow my mind to become lost in the movement between us as my hips thrust in and out of her in a poetic motion designed for only one thing…climax. My eyes meet hers, and the stare between us is intense. It’s not just the joining of two bodies but of two minds and souls as well. It’s perfect.
My orgasm warms in my lower back, and I know I won’t be able to last much longer. Reaching between us, I rub at her clit, and within seconds, she’s coming again. Her whole body shatters around me in a violent orgasm of nothing but pleasure and desire. Then my orgasm rips from my balls and out of my dick in an explosion, coating her insides.
Shit! We didn’t use a condom. I freeze, and she must realize at the same time.
“I’m clean.” I offer immediately.
“So am I. They checked me,” she stumbles over her words.
We both fall into an uneasy silence with my dick still inside my wife.
My dick still inside my wife.
I realize it doesn’t matter about protection as a vision enters my head of her swelling with my child, and I drop down to kiss her lips.
“My wedded and bedded wife.” I chuckle.
“I love you, Theo,” Joanna whispers before nestling herself against my neck as I say the words back to her.
“I love you, too.”
Chapter Twelve
Joanna
The world tilts on its axis when the sunlight streams through the curtains, and I realize my husband is not in bed with me. The space where he fell asleep last night is still warm, which suggests he left the bed recently. I listen for the shower, but it’s silent. I’m disappointed, and my heart instantly deflates. Was I not good enough for him? Is that why he’s not here? Does it show down there I’m a victim of abuse. I want to cry, and the tears well up in my eyes but don’t fall when I suddenly notice the time on the beside clock. Eleven in the morning! I don’t think I’ve ever slept this late. No wonder Theo isn’t here in bed with me. He’s an early riser. My body must have been more exhausted than I thought after our lovemaking. Pulling back the bed covers, my hand slides to my flat stomach. I can’t help but wonder if Theo and I created a baby last night. It seems odd to me that by being pregnant I’ll be safe from a beating, but equally, I’d love a mini version of Theo and me. A baby to worship and give me hope.
“I’m expecting a child in there as well.” The deep timbered voice comes from the corner of the room. It’s the voice of my nightmares. Please say I’m dreaming. However, as the owner of the terrifying intonation steps from the shadows, I know it’s real. Viscount Hamilton is here. “It’s taken you long enough to entice my son into that delightful pussy of yours.” The monster comes closer to the bed, and I’m scrambling to cover myself with the bedsheets. I’m back in my pajamas, which thankfully offer me some protection. He’s stronger, though, and with a hard pull on the cotton fabric of the sheets, they are ripped from my frantic grasp. “I don’t believe this is the way I taught you to greet me!”
Next, I’m pulled from the bed by my arm and thrown onto the floor at his feet. I bow my head and stay quiet even though my entire body is shaking, and my teeth chatter with fear.
“My son is too lax with you. He’s always been a softy. Sometimes I think Victoria has more balls than Theo does. Let’s just hope what he does have are fertile. This has taken far too long. I’m getting frustrated. Do you know what it’s like to hide from the police all the time because Nicholas Cavendish thinks he’s found morality? Victoria is wasted on him. It’s infuriating!” I jump when he stomps his foot on the floor in protest at his perceived injuries. I know exactly what it’s like to be running from someone although my someone isn�
��t the law—it’s the man standing in front of me. It’s exhausting, debilitating, and so very frightening.
I feel him tangle his hand around my hair before it’s pulled hard, so my face juts up to meet his.
“You get a baby in your stomach within the week, or I’ll come back and put one in there myself. Do you understand?”
My bottom lip quivers, and I manage to stutter out a, “y-y-yes”.
“Good girl.”
He bends forward and presses a kiss to my lips. He smells of cigars and brandy—nothing like the fresh and inviting scent of Theo. I want my husband back. Where is he? I say a silent prayer in my head for him to burst into the room and witness his father’s abuse of me. My eyes flick to the door, willing it to open and my savior to fill the void.
The Viscount laughs.
“He was called away to a meeting. I’m sure he’ll be back later with another vote of confidence in us to take over the society. There are more men like me out there than you’d believe. We aren’t all insipid wimps like my son and the Cavendish brothers. We know the real way to treat a woman.”
My hair is pulled harder until I’m up on my feet and pressed against his body. I’m so glad I chose to put my PJs back on. Theo wanted me to sleep naked, but I’d told him I wasn’t ready for that, yet. I still need the security of my clothing. He helped me re-dress. Maybe if I keep thinking of him, I’ll survive what is about to happen to me, and the false hope I had that I was safe here won’t be decimated into a crumbling ruin? The Viscount pushes me up against a chest of drawers in the corner of the room. He kicks my legs apart and strokes my pussy through the cotton fabric that’s keeping it hidden. ‘Theo,’ I repeat in my head. ‘Remember him doing the same thing. The way he made you feel, the pleasure which cascaded through your body when you came with him inside you.’ It’s not possible, though. Theo was gentle but dominant when he touched me, having realized I’m not broken. The Viscount, however, is harsh with his ministrations, prodding and poking in a way that’s completely devoid of romance and entirely designed to inflict pain. He pushes his finger hard into me with only the linen of my pajamas forming protection from his calloused hand and jagged nails. I can’t keep in the whimper falling from my lips, and I hate myself for giving it to him.
“Always the little whore for me, aren’t you, Joanna?”
He thrusts his fingers in a couple more times before withdrawing them.
“You know, when this is all over, I think I’ll keep you for myself. My perfect toy who’ll take anything I can give her. My cock really enjoys your cries. It makes it so hard.”
He grinds his hips into me, and bile rises into my throat at the thought of what he can do with his repulsive member.
“Now is not the time for frivolity. I’m here for one reason alone.”
The Viscount finally allows me to breathe by putting some distance between us. I gasp air into my lungs and adjust my pajamas to make my aching private parts more comfortable. That will have to do until I can burn my clothes and shower in scalding water to make myself feel cleaner. I’ll never be able to feel completely clean again, though.
Turning around, I watch the Viscount open up a briefcase I hadn’t seen before. I don’t even want to begin to guess what he has in it, but I know it won’t be good. Nothing with this man is ever right. How can I have gone from feeling confident in myself again and strong enough to make love with my husband to having it all destroyed in a matter of minutes? The realization dawns on me there will never be any escape. This is my life until the day I die. Theo may be adamant he’ll protect me, but the problem is he’s protecting me from the wrong enemy. The burden weighs heavily on my shoulders, and I sink to the floor.
Viscount Hamilton looks at me and shakes his head with a look of disgust on his face.
“Weak… just like all women.”
He pulls out an envelope from his briefcase and stomps menacingly back over to me. I cower away, wanting to crawl into my own skin and hide.
“I’ve already told you I don’t have time to play today. You can stop with the whimpering act. I need my dick inside you to make that fun, and I’m only here for this.”
He throws the envelope down in front of me.
“Well open it!” he shouts, and it sends a shudder all the way through my body.
My hand tentatively reaches for the envelope, and I open it as quickly as I can while fighting to control the terrible shake coursing throughout my body. I pull something out and notice it’s a photo. I instantly recognize the person captured on camera. It’s a younger Nicholas Cavendish, and in his hand is a painting. It’s vaguely familiar: the vibrant yellow flowers punctured by the glowing red blooms of two poppies. It was in Oakfield Hall. I remember it from the day I was sold. Victoria was staring at the picture for ages, and I wondered why. I never had a chance to ask her, but I’ve since learned from others she has an appreciation for art.
“I don’t understand,” I mumble and then shrink back scared I may be punished for talking.
“You don’t need to understand. All you have to do is give that to Theo.”
I look down at the picture again. It gives me an unsettled feeling in my stomach. Nicholas is dressed head to toe in black, and the outfit he is wearing is not the clothing of someone who’d be carrying a priceless painting around for any honest purpose.
“It’s stolen.” The words escape me, and I will my mouth and brain to disconnect. If they keep speaking my thoughts, I could really end up beaten or worse.
The Viscount laughs out loud, the sound filling the room.
“Maybe you are smarter than I gave you credit for.” He takes the photo out of my hands and places it back in the envelope. “Of course it’s stolen. How do you think we all have the money we do? Looking after old houses and maintaining certain social standards doesn’t come cheap. Nicholas Cavendish thinks he can give these things back and get away with it… No, it’s not happening.”
My tormentor kneels down in front of me and runs his tongue over my face.
“Art equals money. Money equals power. Power equals women, and women equal slaves. That is the future of the Oakfield Society.”
A final kiss is pressed to my lips, and I’m thrown onto the floor before the Viscount leaves me lying there, alone. My heart pounds in my chest—its rapid beat is loudly thumping, and I place my hands over my ears willing it to go away, wanting the world to go away. I’m never going to be free. I slide my hands down my body to my stomach.
“Please God, don’t let a child be in there. I can’t bring another life into this world. It’s corrupt and evil. It’s hell. Hell is on Earth, and the devil is Viscount Hamilton.”
Chapter Thirteen
Theodore
I throw my car keys into the pot on a table in the entrance hall where I keep them. Today has been a complete waste of my time. A wild-goose chase around most of London with little result. My first meeting didn’t bother to show up, no doubt paid off by the Cavendish brothers, and my second one disappeared halfway through when I mentioned I was married to Joanna. I’ve no idea what his problem is, no doubt something to do with her father. I’ve been doing some research on Earl Linton, and it seems he’s not as innocent as he makes himself out to be. I wonder if Joanna is aware he was once arrested for rape, but all the charges were dropped when the victim was found dead. A rather convenient death he couldn’t be linked to, so he got away with the whole thing. I think I’ll keep a better eye on him. It’s crossed my mind before he could be a spy for the Cavendish brothers. The last thing I need is for them to know our plans before we’re in a position to implement them.
I need to lose the tension in my body, and my beautiful wife is the only person who can do that for me. I didn’t like leaving her still sleeping this morning. I wanted to wake her and take her again, but she looked so serene and peaceful, curled up in a little ball, so I decided not to disturb her. I start for the stairs leading to our bedroom, and taking the steps two at a time, my cock hardens with ever
y step.
“Theo.” I spin around when I hear my wife’s voice coming from behind me, and in no time at all, she’s in my arms, and I’m pressing my lips to hers.
“I missed you.” I can’t help but notice the way her body tenses, and how her eyes fail to meet mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” The answer is quick, probably too quick.
“Joanna, is it about what happened last night?” My cock rapidly deflates at the thought it was too much for her, and she’s suffering because of me making love to her.
“No, no. I promise you. I’m a little sore, but it was perfect.” She shuffles her feet on the floor still looking away from me.
“Then look at me and tell me what’s the matter because I know something is?” I place a finger under her chin and tilt it up, so I can meet her sapphire eyes.
“I made something for you, but I’m not sure if you’re going to like it.”
Cocking my head, I raise a suspicious eyebrow.
“What is it?”
She holds her hand out.
“This way.”
Following Joanna through the house, she leads me to the busy kitchen. Staff are running around preparing dinner. The mouth-watering scent of roast beef wafts in the air, and my stomach rumbles. If I’m not going to be having sex with my wife, anytime soon, then a roast dinner is the perfect way of relaxing me, especially if it comes with a full-bodied red wine and Joanna at my side.
“Where are we going?”
The staff get quickly out of our way as Joanna leads me into the part of the kitchen that’s used for making sweet confectionery. Sitting on a table in the middle of the room is a cake.
“You made me a cake?” I question.
“Yes, it’s a Dorset apple cake…my grandmother’s recipe. The chef helped me a little bit as I couldn’t remember a couple of the processes, but it’s been so much fun to do. It felt normal.”
