Chapter Thirty-Two
When Donovan and Phoebe arrived back at Hawthorne Hall they found themselves in a raging storm. After the frame was carefully but quickly moved into the library, Peter walked in and the three security guards returned to their quarters. As Peter studied the frame for any damage, Donovan ran his fingers down the back of the right side.
“I found the spot,” he declared. “The wood has been carefully cut away then put back. It won’t be difficult to remove. What time is David Weiss arriving?”
“He’ll be here in the morning.”
“Hiding jewels back here would be impossible unless a hole was carved out. Regardless, we’ll soon know.”
“Excuse me, I’m exhausted,” Phoebe interjected. “I’m going to take a nap. Donovan, are staying down here?”
“No, I need to relax a bit as well.”
“You both did a fantastic job,” Peter said gratefully. “I’ll send up some tea, then make sure you’re not disturbed.”
“Ah! Tea!” Donovan repeated with a chuckle. “The stuff of life. Thanks, that would be great.”
Moments after Donovan and Phoebe left, Peter heard someone come through the front door. Leaving the library and walked into the hall, he saw Trevor and Jane completely drenched and peeling off their wet coats. But before he had a chance to speak with them Trevor quickly excused himself, and Jane hurried up the stairs to her room.
* * *
As the day passed the storm continued, finally easing off early in the evening. Donovan and Phoebe joined Peter for dinner, but Jane had requested a tray, and Trevor sent word to the kitchen he wouldn’t be down. It was a low key meal, but a happy one. They were enjoying a delicious dessert when they heard voices in the hall.
“That sounds like Mary, my wife,” Peter declared. “Please excuse me.”
Hastily rising to his feet he hurried from the room to find her out of breath, surrounded by suitcases, and one of the housemaids helping her out of her heavy wool coat.
“Mary! I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Please, I must speak to you in our room.”
“What happened?” he said urgently as they started up the stairs.
“Our daughter happened,” she replied, lowering her voice. “Peter, I’ve been such a fool, and I’m so dreadfully sorry. Jane rang me and just started talking at me. I couldn’t get a word in, but the things she said…and she was right about all of it. I’ve been a terrible mother, maybe even a worse wife, and I want to make things right with both of you.”
Hours later, after a long talks and tearful apologies, Jane forgave her mother, and Peter came to understand how he’d let his wife slip away. He’d been so determined to make her happy he hadn’t objected to anything, and she’d thought his constant acquiescence meant he didn’t care.
“Jane, I have to ask,” her mother said solemnly, “after all this time, what made you pick up the phone and ring me?”
“It was a suggestion from my future husband. His name is Trevor. But you can’t say anything. He doesn’t know it yet. At least, not completely, but he will.”
* * *
The following morning Phoebe woke up feeling Donovan’s hardness pressing against the back of the thighs, and his hands fondling her breasts. Sighing happily, she shifted to allow him entry, then moaned as he thrust inside her.
“What a wonderful way to wake up,” she murmured as he moved his hand down to her pussy.
He didn’t respond, but began rubbing her clit as he stroked, then slowed to a stop and pulled out. Before she could protest, he moved her on her stomach, grabbed her hips, pulled them up and delivered several hard slaps.
“Ow, what’s that for?” she demanded, looking over her shoulder.
“As I’ve said to you before I don’t need a reason, but this time I have one. Consider this short spanking an ounce of prevention,” he declared, landing several more hard smacks. “Sometimes you can be impetuous. When David Weiss is here let him do things in his own time.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, yes, sir.”
“If he’s a talker don’t interrupt him, and if he’s quiet don’t press him. Is that clear?” he finished, swatting her again.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good, now that’s out of the way we can enjoy ourselves.”
Gripping her waist with both hands he began pumping with slow, powerful strokes, slowly accelerating as her moans and cries signaled her arousal. When he sensed she was drawing close to her release, he paused to lean over her body and sharply pinch her nipples. Letting out a cry, she bucked back against him, then wiggled her hips.
“Please, sir, please…”
“Please what? Tell me.”
“Please fuck me.”
“Slow, fast, hard?” he teased.
“Whatever pleases you, Sir.”
“You’ll be rewarded for that,” he growled, straightening up and clutching her hips. “Come when you want.”
As he began to plunge in and out of her soaked channel, her gasps and cries grew louder.
“Are you close?”
“Yes, sir, yes, yes.”
Clenching his teeth, he waited, then suddenly she let out a howl. As the convulsions seized her, his cock unexpectedly exploded, sending sparkling sensations rippling through his body. The cascading spasms seemed never-ending…then suddenly stopped…leaving him with his heart pounding and his entire being weak. Slipping out, he fell onto the mattress next to her and let out a heavy breath.
“I’ve never had sex like this,” she muttered breathlessly. “Every time it’s just so great. Like—mind blowingly great.”
“That’s because...”
“Because why?” she pressed.
“I was going to say, because we’re a match, but it’s more than that. We’re connected.”
“We are, but I also think it’s because I can be myself with you. Totally. And there are no blurred lines.”
“Blurred lines?”
“You know…you’re the caveman and I’m the wench.”
“Ah, yes,” he said with a chuckle. “And don’t you forget it.”