Page 59 of The Baron Takes a Wife

She pursed her lips together and nodded, feeling giddy with anticipation. Suddenly, his trousers fell to the floor. He stepped out of them, then used his arms to cage her against the wall, at the same time meeting her mouth and kissing her deeply. As he held her against the wall, he stroked down her leg and wrapped it around him, and Elena put her arms around his neck as she drank in his kiss. It had never been like this before, raw and rough, with a bone-deep need to be filled completely and utterly. He pushed her remaining petticoats out of the way, and she felt his hand along the slit of her drawers, parting them as he sought her eyes again.

Yes? he mouthed.

Yes, she answered, more than ready for him, and he entered her with a deep thrust and a groan low in his throat, filling her and, at the same time, pushing her against the wall. This position felt different than before. Even though she was trapped against his body, she felt like they were racing together, running wild and free into oblivion. The pleasure was so exquisite it was almost unbearable. His lips went to her neck, and he found that spot, the spot that sent her into rapture as they moved together with greater speed and intensity. His hands then went to her chest as he pushed down her loosened corset and tore the top of her chemise, freeing her breasts.

His hands were rougher than usual, but she loved the raw adoration he gave her breasts, the animal need with which he massaged and grasped them as he pumped into her. Suddenly, she felt like she was reaching toward something, an even greater joy and longing. She began to feel her entire body shake as wave after wave crashed into her. She cried out at the same time he did, dropping her head to his shoulder. Slowly, he withdrew, and she lowered her leg to the ground. They stayed against the wall, wrapped up in each other for several moments. Elena pushed off her corset, drawers, and remaining petticoats and stood there in her sheer chemise, now torn so that it revealed that spot David liked so well, right between her breasts. He traced his finger from her collarbone down to that spot, and she saw his lips form a soundless word.

Mine.

She led her husband to the bedpost, then took a cloth and poured a small basin of water. She wrung out the cloth and then began to bathe his body. She moved the cloth carefully from his broad shoulders down his back to his well-muscled backside and legs, which were strong from all the exercises he did to regain his walking. She guided his arm to lean against the bedpost so he did not have to stand on his own for so long. Strangely, of all the things they had done together, this felt the most intimate. She could tell he felt the same. As she came to his front, she could see color flushing his face, spilling down his neck

“Elena, you don’t have to do this.” He put out his free hand as if to stop her.

She caught his wrist. “I want to. Tonight, I’m taking care of you, yes?”

“But—”

As she wrang out the cloth, she carefully brought it down the length of him, and he seemed to lose the power of speech. She smiled as his arousal was clearly returning. She wrang out the cloth again, then worked her way up his body. She had to look up as he was at least a head taller than her, and what she saw in his eyes floored her. She dropped the cloth and found herself in his arms again, his skin hot and damp.

“I love you, Elena,” he whispered against her ear, “I love you so much. Stay with me.”

In response, she kissed him deeply, saying everything with her body she couldn’t yet say in words. She used her tongue to tease open his mouth, but going slowly, gently, unlike their rough and raw coupling moments before. She could feel the heat of his body through her thin chemise. She ought to take it off, but she liked the rough sensations it made against her skin. As they broke apart, he sat on the bed, looking away from her.

“I did not withdraw in time.”

She stared at him for a moment, then thought back to their coupling. She hummed in understanding.

“Nothing would please me more than having a child with you. But I want you to be able to go back to your family if…” He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, then went on. “If that is what you decide to do. I wanted to stay away from you until we found out, but I don’t think it is possible for me to do so. In that case, perhaps it would be wise if, in the future, I try to withdraw before completion. Or we could use French letters. You know what those are?”

“Yes.” She dipped her head. Anatole had used what David called French letters, and she had heard them talked about in the hospital among women before. She understood what he was saying and why he was saying it, but her heart and body rebelled. She loved their intimacy, their skin against each other’s skin. It didn’t make all the horrible moments from her past completely go away, but the memories were fewer and far between. She was so happy to feel pleasure and desire again with him that she didn’t want to change a thing. But if she found out her family was alive, could she bear to have a child she might have to leave behind? Could she bear to leave him behind? She had longed for her family for so long that she had not stopped to consider what her life would actually be like if she were to go back. Those were questions for another day, and so she brushed them aside for now.

“You are wise, Husband.” She pulled her chemise over her head, leaving her only in her stockings, and she pushed him back onto the bed, angling herself over him as his gaze hungrily roamed her body.

For some reason, she felt lighthearted, and playfully emphasized her accent as she said, “Let us try, how do you say, withdrawal this time, yes?”

His expression changed, and he broke into a wicked smile. And no more was spoken that night.

Chapter Seventeen

Before she left London, Elena wanted to see Annamaria one more time, so she suggested that they take a walk in the park with Annamaria’s daughter and Goliath, who David insisted go with them. She chose to meet her in Bloomsbury Square. It was not considered a particularly fashionable area by Polite Society, but she hoped Annamaria would feel more comfortable there. David had also insisted she bring a footman, Gerald, who was waiting at the carriage and looked to possibly be resting his eyes. Elena turned from Gerald with a grin on her face and vowed she would not tell on him.

It was a hot day, but the sun had gone behind the clouds, and there was a mild breeze, so Elena did not need her parasol to shield her eyes from the sun as she watched the little girl chase the dog. She glanced at Annamaria, whose wardrobe was very different from the threadbare gown and shawl she had seen before. In fact, Elena was reminded of Sophie, as Annamaria’s blue and gray striped walking dress and jacket looked both practical and quietly elegant. She looked nothing like the woman with the matted blood in her hair and the swollen jaw she had first met. Elena looked down at her own floral yellow dress and bonnet with matching ribbon and marked to herself that she was finally wearing bright colors without guilt. As they sat on a bench, both of their gazes followed Evangelina, or Eva, chasing Goliath around a tree. He really was recovering quickly, and while Elena knew he was still compensating for his back leg, he moved with speed and strength. It must be all that food that mysteriously fell off her plate onto the floor for him. Suddenly, the little girl stumbled and pulled on Goliath’s tail as the dog gave a short yelp.

“Will he hurt her? He looks like he could fell a grown man.” Annamaria moved to rise.

“He will not hurt her.” Elena could not explain her certainty, but somehow, she knew as she drew breath that Goliath would never ever hurt anyone who wasn’t a threat to Elena. She and David hadn’t even provided Goliath much guidance. There was something instinctual about his protectiveness. Just as this thought crossed her mind, Goliath had braced himself so the little girl, old enough to walk but not much more than a babe, could lean against him for support. Annamaria sat back down, hand over her chest.

“You found him on the street?” she asked.

“The very day I met you.”

“My mama would say that was fate,” Annamaria said with a faraway look in her eye.

Elena smiled as she thought of her village. “My grandmother was a firm believer in fate. In the Orthodox church, fate and forgiveness are paramount. I suppose that’s part of why we have confession.”

“Catholics, too.” Elena could see Annamaria turn toward her out of the corner of her eye.

Elena had thought a great deal about forgiveness since her conversations with David after Anatole’s message. Sometimes, she felt like she didn’t know where to start, but then there would be days when she would find herself looking at her past actions in a different light, as something gone and far away. What that forgiveness?