Francis. You are all I have ever dreamed that love could be.
“I love you, Francis. When I said I didn’t need you to be my hero, I lied. I’ve waited my entire life for you. Swear to me that you will never leave me alone.”
“I swear. From this day forth, you and I are one.”
Her heart swelled at his vow. For the first time in her life, she trusted a man to be there for her. That he would always be by her side.
I will never be alone again.
“Take me, Francis. Here. Now. Our forever begins tonight.”
Poppy worked open the front of Francis’s trousers, freeing his hardened erection. When it slapped against his stomach, he let out a groan of need. Taking him in hand, she stroked her fingers along his length. “This belongs to me now,” she purred.
Yes. Use me, for your pleasure.
As Francis lifted her, Poppy wrapped her legs about his waist. Then slowly, carefully, he lowered her onto his cock. The sweet heat of her body welcomed him as he thrust up. For a moment they stood both breathing heavy.
“Bed?” he asked.
“Table. I want this raw and heated. We can sleep later.”
It was a shuffling struggle to make it over to the table. Francis stopped every few steps to pump his cock inside Poppy as if they couldn’t wait for even the short moment it would take to get there. She was a greedy girl. “More. Harder,” were her words of encouragement.
When he finally got her to the table, he tumbled her onto her back. Poppy didn’t let go. She might well have been bruised and sore, but she clearly knew what she wanted. He exulted in her heated desire.
“Now claim me. I want it hard and deep. I want you to mark me with your kisses and bruise my hips with your thumbs.”
Francis leaned over her. It took an almighty effort on his part to slow his long strokes. To make this first time last. “You are not the shy virginal wife I’d once thought I would be bedding.”
She clutched at his arms. “I can play sweet if that’s what you want.” The wicked grin on her lips held a lifetime of promise.
He nipped at her earlobe. “No. I want you wild. Windswept and carried on the storm. You, Poppy, will never be a placid wife in public. Why the devil should I want you to be anything but your fiery best when you are naked in my arms?”
He was done with talking. It was time to let his body speak for him. To show her how she set his blood aflame.
With hands either side of her hips, gripping tight, just as she wanted, Francis took Poppy in a frenzy of hard, deep thrusts. Pumping in and out. His soul burned bright as she urged him on. Demanding. “Yes. Oh god, Francis.”
Her scream of completion had his heart almost fit to burst. The last of his control was torn away as he lay over her and ravished her body.
When he reached his own climax a few thrusts later, Francis’s world stopped. He gazed down at Poppy utterly in awe of her. Being with this woman meant more than he could ever have imagined.
He collapsed on top of her, heart racing, chest heaving.
In the silence came Poppy’s voice. She spoke the one word which touched his soul. “Forever.”
Chapter Forty-One
Christmas might have closed the shops and seen servants given a day or two of leave, but the busy London Docks never ceased. A visitor at his warehouse on Boxing Day afternoon roused a sleepy Francis from his bed. “My empty bed,” he quietly mumbled as he went to answer the door.
Poppy had sent him home a few hours earlier, citing her need to get some urgent paperwork completed. He had protested, but as soon as he’d stepped inside number twelve, he’d headed for his bed. Men might talk about wanting an insatiable woman, but the reality of it was exhausting.
I need a nice long nap.
Once he had his energy levels back, he would return to Poppy, heat up more water, and then join her in the tub. He was still mulling over the details of how he was going to get running water installed inside her warehouse as he unlocked the door and opened it.
Standing outside was one of the superintendent’s clerks. He recognized the man from his regular trips to the nearby offices.
“Good afternoon, Mister Saunders. And a merry Christmas.”
