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She moaned in a mixture of alarm and excitation. His iron arms lifted her from the ground and he leaned on her, so that she would feel the bulk of his member.
Trembling with lust, he fumbled with her skirts, pulling them up, heaving in her ear. He found her drawers and jerked them down, impatient.
“You drove me crazy!” He palmed her buttocks. “And now you’re going to take the consequences!”
She drew in air as his fingers surrounded her thighs and crept in between her legs. His body pressed her harder. His fingers dived in her dripping wetness. “Oh, God!” Blind with desire, his mouth came down to suck her neck, tickling it with his stubble.
Her head fell back and she moaned. The combination of the sucking with the tickling boiled her.
He left her dripping moisture to open his fly in swift movements, held her tighter as he positioned his weeping glans in her entrance. She arched her back for easier access and he slid in, delectably. Then his fingers got back to her womanhood.
Her arms went up, grabbing the tree trunk, her flushed face sideways, framed by her loosen hair. He sucked the base of her neck in total haze. He penetrated deeper and deeper, massaging her button in a maddening rhythm. She arched more, wanting him to fill her completely. That he did.
He pushed and pushed repeatedly, his finger still tantalizing her button, his mouth sucking her neck savagely.
She felt the prickle surge in the very core of her. Orgasm came in an avalanche that left nothing in its wake, exploding ardently, as she cried loudly in the dimly lit woods, echoing nature.
Her cries and her contractions undid him inexorably. Now his mouth left her neck and he grunted, feeling he came to the edge. He lunged once more, the deepest and stopped. He finally burst like a volcano, as flow after flow shook out of him and flooded all her womb. His head fell and he touched his forehead to her shoulder. Both emitted short breaths, one glued to the other, where they stayed for long minutes.
They rearranged their clothes, went back to the quilt and fell on it, totally satiated. Hugh had half of his body on Sarah’s, his face buried in her neck. What would his phlegmatic peers say if they saw him rolling on the dry leaves of the woods with his downstairs maid? They would certainly make a face, he thought, feeling half mischievous, half smug. Nevertheless, Hugh doubted they had ever felt so content and as fulfilled as he felt right now. He did not remember having been so carefree since his childhood.
He lifted his head, grazing his stubble on her cheeks then he saw the marks of his sucking on her neck becoming bluish. “Sarah, I left a mark on your neck.” His thumb caressed it lightly. “I am sorry!” He had been so insane with desire for her that he barely knew what he did.
“Don’t worry. My modest uniform will cover it.” Her fingers raked his hair.
“This chase got me savagely out of my mind, you naughty woman!”
She chuckled. “You’re not the only one.”
“Very soothing indeed!” He joked.
As the sun set down, they rode back to the gamekeeper’s cottage.
Hugh wanted to make the most of this last evening. They had candlelit dinner with a special Madeira wine, which Sarah loved. Then they lay down by the fire and Hugh sent her sky high again. They went to bed, where they cuddled tightly, as they sought each other in the deep night.
Morning came all too fast, Hugh thought as he awoke with Sarah wrapped around him. They were in an entanglement of bed cover, arms and legs. He held her tight, waiting for her to wake up, naked, as he could not leave her alone all night. A sense of loss crept inside him at the thought that they would leave. The days they had spent there were fast becoming the most memorable of his recent life. Now he would have to go back to town and to the tight social protocols that seemed like chains around his body. He would make it a point to come here more times with her, his sweet candid…what? Well, never mind. They would come here in other occasions.
They left early in the morning and Hugh hired another driver in the village. The driver, paid and released in the outskirts of London. Hugh left Sarah in that same hidden street in Piccadilly and headed for his club, so that they would not arrive together.
Sarah wrapped herself tightly in her shawl to hide the neck mark and crept up to her cubicle.
CHAPTER 9
A few days later, Sarah started to feel sick in the morning. She had heard too much from the women in her village not to know what went on with her. Furthermore, she remembered she had had her last bleeding a too long time ago. The nausea felt unbearable. It would begin after Lord Hawkmore left her cot, thankfully. She tried to control herself during breakfast, but it proved too difficult. Once she heard one of her village neighbours say that she used to eat a few bites of plain bread before getting up. So Sarah started smuggling old bread to her cubicle. It helped a little; water would be more efficient.
All of a sudden, she noticed changes in her body. Her breasts were fuller and heavier, and much, much more sensitive. Lord Hawkmore had just to graze his fingers on them and sensation blazed through her body. Her vagina felt more sensitive, too; and it felt hotter. This amplified tenfold the pleasure he gave her.
Tension and worry dominated her during the day. At a complete loss what to do she wondered at what she had to do. Her entire being would scream a loud ‘no’. She did not want her child to be brought up as a mere bastard. It washers! She would protect it, no matter what; or how. Doubt cut through her soul.
Nonetheless, when alone in her cubicle, a soft smile spread on her lips. She would gaze at her still flat abdomen and wrap her arms around it. Her child. His child. She wanted it intensely. Never would she go to one of those old women to get rid of it. She would fight. She would struggle and she would give the child all it needed.
That night, Lord Hawkmore lay on her cot, after they had taken each other, distractedly caressing her breast. “Sarah!” He palmed it fully, setting fire to her sensations. “Your breasts. They are so…appetizing!”
He kept caressing them hungrily, which sent them in another searing enjoyment of each other. “You’re so hot inside, today! How is it possible, Sarah?” He said as he moved blindly in her, panting. They had a more ardent than average orgasm; she could barely stop her cries.
As he held her afterwards, he looked up and noticed the breadcrumbs on her bedside. He did not say anything. Maybe she worked too hard and felt hungry during the night. A bit of guilt surged in him. She worked all day and they were together during the night. Of course, she spent a lot of energy, which would make her hungry.
Hugh felt very uncomfortable with that situation. Since they returned from the country, he wanted to send all society to hell and set up a house for her. The idea got more and more rooted in his head. He had begun looking in discreet small houses in decent neighbourhoods. He did not care anymore. He wanted her all for himself.
