A Lord’s Desperate Love Part Twelve – A Historical Romance Story

She tipped her head to one side and then shook it. He thought she was saying no but then she smiled in that swift sudden look of appreciation which was all her. Her eyes burned just as he’d remembered them doing the very first night she’d walked up to him.

“You are irresistible, Geoff.” She laughed again, then kissed him.

It was a slow kiss, one of longing and love. He wished to reiterate that things had changed between them. He pulled away, lifting his eyebrows. “I love you, Violet. This is nothing more or less than that, the need a man has to show a woman he loves her.” She smiled and tears brimmed in her eyes as they widened. “And just to make this very clear, I am always going to love you. I am never going to look elsewhere. We will be a pair from now on. I will always expect you to warm my bed, even if it is only to sleep.”

Her smile lifted higher. He could see she recognised this was him taking the reins she’d always held. “I’ll not play master to you. We’ll be a partnership.”

Her smile suddenly tilted and shone in her eyes, then she said, “I’ll let you,” before pulling his mouth back to hers.

He laughed, the moment before his lips touched hers.

They went upstairs as they had gone upstairs the first night, with her leading him by the hand. Then in her small humble room, which bore nothing of Violet’s nature, she stripped off his neckcloth as he began undoing the buttons at her back, and then she pushed his morning coat from his shoulders and his arms.

When he exposed skin, he worshiped it, with his fingers, tongue and lips. It had not been that long since they’d last done this, yet it felt so different. She loved him, he knew that now.

She said, “I do love you, Geoff,” as she stripped off his shirt, as if she thought the same. “I have for weeks,” she continued,when his shirt fell on the floor. “I have known it, but been afraid of it. I thought it would grip you with horror.”

He laughed as she raised her arms, then he lifted off her chemise. “Horrified, Violet?” His voice had lowered an octave or two, with need. “Look at you, why would I be horrified…”

His gaze dropped to the outward curve of her stomach. The back of his fingers ran across it. The skin was stretched, and beneath there was no give, just a hard little bump. His child. Theirs. What a fool not to have noticed in London? Emotion welled inside him and his fingers trailed upwards as his gaze met hers.

With an odd smile, as though she thought he might change his mind about taking her to bed, she unbuttoned his falls.

He was in her hand, aching and throbbing with need as she touched him.

He knew exactly why Violet had favoured him in the beginning because of his looks, his size and his prowess in a bed. He smiled down at her as she looked down, her slender hand, now bearing his ring, ran upward, then her thumb brushed over his tip. His stomach muscles clasped, in a sudden sharp spasm of need.

Bracing her face in both his hands, he lifted her gaze, then kissed her, deeply, his tongue slipping into her mouth. When he broke it he whispered over her lips. “Do you wish to go on top? Would it be easier with the child?”

She shook her head. “We only did this a few days back, Geoff, it is no different.”

Her eyes shone with the emotion that churned inside him too. “And yet it is very different. Isn’t it, Vi?”

Her breath came out on a sigh. “Yes.”

In a moment they were on the short narrow bed. She with her legs splayed wide as he knelt between them, leaning over her with one palm pressing into the mattress beside her shoulders.

Looking her in the eyes, he said, “Violet Rimes, I shall warn you, I consider myself bloody lucky to have won you. I am not having any hide-it-away wedding. We shall be married in St George’s. I shall get a special licence and we’ll plan it all as soon as we get back to London, but I wish my family there and our friends. I am going to make a statement, Violet. You have chosen me over anyone else and I you.”

Her fingers brushed through his hair. “Do you feel threatened by others, Geoff?”

It was the sort of question she would have teased him with in the early days. This wasn’t teasing though, he saw it, she wanted to know.

Honestly. “Yes.”

Her fingers brushed through his hair again, then rested against his cheek, one of them baring the ring he’d chosen for her. “You should not be jealous,” she said quietly. “No one compares to you. You have been all since the first night I met you. I have been in denial about that too.”

He smiled, gripping the back of her knee with his free hand and slid slowly into her, looking down to watch. His senses reeled at the engulfing warmth.

He looked up, “Violet.”

She’d closed her eyes. They stayed closed as he moved.

This was heaven, being in her body like this, but he dare not press deep, he was afraid of touching the child in her womb.

She bit her lip, then her fingers slid down his arms as her legs lifted to grip his waist.

With more vigorous strokes he took them forward. Her fingernails cut as her mouth fell open. She was never quiet. Her breath was hot heavy pants.

Beautiful Violet.

Her eyes flew open when he pressed a little deeper, too eager. He thought he’d hurt her, but she smiled – her I-am-enjoying-this-very-much smile, but-not-enough.

He shook is head and lifted the tempo, taking her hand and pressing it between them, holding her fingers to press against the place where he worked, adding intensity for them both.

Her fingers suddenly gripped his, grasping, as she fell over an edge where he was not yet ready to follow.

He parted her thighs wider, forgetting about the child, and thrust in, gaining another inch in his invasion. She was breathless, quivering, aspic, and he was granite, steal and heat.

“God, Violet,” he said as she broke again on a keening cry.

He bent and kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, before he lifted again. He still held her hand between them.

“Geoffrey, you are –”

“The best man you have ever taken to bed.”

Her eyes opened and she laughed. Then her fingers swept back his hair as he kept filling her again and again, relentless, firm and heavy. He could see she could hardly think and form words but she managed some. “The best man ever… Geoff… ever. But then I am bias because I love you.”

“And I love you.”

She dropped into the well of pleasure again and left him behind.

Pressing her legs even further apart and winning a little more of her ground, he thrust and thrust and thr – God. “Violet!”

A Lord’s Desperate Love is the story of two of the secondary characters from the 2nd book in the Marlow Intrigues Series

‘The Passionate Love of a Rake’

The true story of a courtesan, who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan, which I’ve been telling every Sunday, will continue alongside this, and if you fancy more reading, my lovely, moody, arrogant, fractured-golden-hearted Duke is out now The Scandalous Love of a Duke!

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.

Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark