Chapter 13 #2
“I still ruined it. And even if I’d sent you that six-page letter and all the tulips in London, it still wouldn’t have been enough. I should’ve been there.”
“You wouldn’t have been able to get leave. And you were in Bermuda. And you didn’t find out until weeks after it happened.” She had a sudden picture of Mark, age twenty, reeling from bad news and with no idea how to handle it. No idea how to comfort a wife from halfway around the world.
He shrugged. “I shouldn’t have joined the Navy. This whole problem wouldn’t have happened if I’d not made a rash choice.”
Ellen smiled, the hard, bitter shards in her heart melting away. “On that we agree, at least. For the record, I could live without the color purple.”
“For your birthday I will find you tulips,” he promised.
Warmth blossomed in her chest. Ellen stretched out in the carriage for hire, her slippered foot accidentally resting on his. She jerked away, surprised and uncertain, and the slipper fell off somewhere in the darkness.
Mark glanced at her in surprise, heat flaring in his eyes.
“My…my slipper.” Ellen licked her lips nervously, and his gaze focused on them. She flushed. “Pardon me.”
“No, let me—”
They leaned forward at the same time, feeling around the dirty floor of the carriage for her shoe. Ellen found it first.
“Got it.” She forced a smile to hide her fluttering heartbeat, the blush certainly staining her cheeks as the temperature in the carriage rose. Still bent over, she wriggled the slipper back on her stockinged foot.
Mark froze, still bent toward her, and his eyes dipped to her décolletage. Now it was his turn to lick his lips.
A thread of desire unspooled in her, turning her core molten and wet. Ellen carefully sat upright, affecting a calm she didn’t have. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly, “for your assistance.”
Mark let out a pained grunt as he, too, sat back against his squabs. “You’re beautiful. Have I told you that yet?”
The heat in her cheeks grew hotter. They passed another gas lamp, and in the flash of light Ellen saw the playbill crumpled in Mark’s fist, his knuckles white. “Thank you.”
Their breathing filled the darkened carriage.
Ellen yearned for his touch. She silently begged him to lean forward and kiss her, to put an end to the terrible drought her body had suffered through. But he didn’t. He didn’t take his eyes off her. His knuckles grew whiter, but he didn’t move an inch.
He wouldn’t, Ellen realized. He wouldn’t press her. He’d been serious about their relationship moving forward on her terms. He wouldn’t touch her unless she asked him too.
Her mouth went dry at the thought. She couldn’t speak. Half of her felt powerful with this realization. The other half was too shy to make the first step.
Blast, she didn’t want to be shy! She wanted to be beautiful and brave and bold. Her gaze flicked to his, and she couldn’t look away. His eyes captured hers, entrapping her in a piercing, blinding current of lust.
The carriage swayed around potholes as the horses ambled into Mayfair, and still they didn’t look away.
Ellen swallowed, and his jaw clenched in response. Her lips parted as she tried to suck in air. Her chest was so tight, all she could think about was stripping off the gown and wrapping herself in her husband’s arms.
All she could think of was coming closer to Mark, setting the old pain aside and moving forward. The carriage halted, breaking the spell.
Gaye opened the door, and Mark bid the old butler goodnight while Ellen clutched his arm.
They divested themselves of scarves, hats, gloves, and cloaks.
By the time they made it upstairs, Ellen was panting in desire.
She turned to Mark in the dark hallway and summoned enough bravery to make the first gesture.
“A kiss for midnight?” She held her breath.
He cupped her elbows and drew her gently to him, kissing her chastely on the forehead. Then his lips worked their way down the bridge of her nose, and finally to her lips. He suckled and nipped and teased at her mouth, and Ellen pressed closer against his broad chest.
Frustrated he wasn’t moving faster, Ellen nipped his lip—hard.
He rose to the challenge. Suddenly she was pressed against her bedroom door, and he lifted her so her legs wrapped around his hips. She felt his cock straining against the cleft between her legs. Ellen groaned at the sensation, bucking against him.
“Greedy little thing,” he said with a laugh, and his breath in her ear caused her to shiver. “What do you need?”
“You,” Ellen said against the warm skin of his neck.
“Oh, it’s been far too long for you, hasn’t it?” Mark’s hips pressed against hers.
Ellen whimpered an assent.
“You work so hard and you need a little pleasure to end the day, don’t you?” He licked along the low neckline of her gown.
“Yes.” Ellen leaned her head backward, bumping it against the door, to give him better access.
“So let me give it to you. Let me make you forget all our troubles and I’ll make you writhe and scream like your world has just begun.” He devoured her mouth, thrusting his tongue and stroking hers until she saw stars.
“Yes.” Ellen was limp against him, and not participating as much as she probably should be. He was so ferocious.
“Let me hear you say it.” Mark massaged her buttocks through her taffeta skirts and bustle, groaning as he did it.
“Give me pleasure,” she whispered.
“Tell me exactly what you want.”
Ellen felt embarrassed to display her wantonness so openly, but it was Mark, and he’d never shamed her for her desires. He reveled in them. “I want you to take me out of this dress and kiss every inch of my skin.”
“Consider it done.”
“And bite my breasts.” She arched as far as she could, pressing against his hard shaft through his trousers.
“I will.”
“And lick me everywhere,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She paused, blushing furiously in the dark. “I mean everywhere.” Ellen felt his smile against her mouth.
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to be more specific. Your thighs?”
Ellen grunted in frustration as his hands stopped stroking her bottom.
“Between your thighs?” His breath was hot against her throat.
“Yes, that!”
“Your sex?” Mark was teasing them both.
“If you want to,” Ellen teased while also providing a way out.
Mark responded by grasping the doorknob and turning it so they stumbled into her room. He put her feet on the ground, his hair rumpled and necktie undone. His eyes glimmered dark with desire, his face flushed. He locked the door behind him, never taking his gaze off hers.
A fire crackled dimly in the fireplace, granting just enough light to see.
Ellen didn’t have to look in her vanity mirror to know she was a sight. Her hair had fallen down, and her own face and neck were flushed from kisses and his evening stubble. Her bosom heaved as she caught her breath.
“Turn around.” Mark stalked toward her.
Ellen did.
Mark unbuttoned her, not nearly quickly enough, and gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’m out of practice, I fear.”
Ellen smiled, heat uncoiling in her core. “I’m glad.”