Chapter Sixteen

J oanna screwed up her eyes and fisted the bedding. She'd never seen her husband this way. Yes, he could brim with passion and urgency, but this was different. She'd pushed his patience, made a spectacle of herself and of him, and now she was facing the consequences.

He clasped her hips tighter, his fingers pincers that would likely leave rows of bruises.

She held her breath, her cunny quivering and getting wetter by the second. Her breasts ached and her belly was tight.

And then she felt the domed head of his cock, pushing at her entrance, finding purchase.

"Mine. You're mine." He forged deep, plunging the entire length of his cock into her cunny.

She cried out as he stretched her deliciously, determinedly, and almost violently. A thrill went through her at the basic instincts she'd unleashed in him and she arched her back, pushing onto him and taking him even deeper.

He released a strangled roaring sound then pulled partway out, only to plunder back in, his flesh slapping up against hers.

Air was shoved from her lungs and she clenched around him. "Oh! Oh! Yes…" she managed. "More."

"Don't worry, there's more…I've only just started."

He set up a frantic, pounding rhythm. Driving into her body with single-minded determination and fervor.

A hunger sparked in her and she reached down and pressed her nub with the tips of her fingers, giving it what she needed.

"Yes," he managed. "Touch yourself. Release your pleasure when I release mine."

It didn't sound or feel like he was far off from releasing his seed. His voice was tight and his cock as hard as it ever got.

But on and on, he ravaged her. The bed creaked, tallow candles flickered, and she worked her nub until she was panting and sweat beaded on her forehead.

"You. Are. Mine," he said hoarsely and punctuating each word with a pound of his cock. "And I only want you. Can you feel that? Can you feel how much my body desires yours?"

"Yes. Yes….oh, please…don't stop…Philip." Her arm ached, she was fretting herself so hard and fast. Each time Philip slammed into her, his cock rubbed a place deep inside her cunny that was greedy for more.

He grunted and gasped, sped up, and dragged her onto his cock with each forward thrust of his hips.

This tipped her over the edge and she clung to the moment of pure bliss before ecstasy swept through her. Her spine stiffened and she held her breath, caught in honeyed anticipation.

"Yes!" He cried out. "Yes! Now!"

Pleasure ripped through her, bursting from her cunny and spreading delicious, hot fingers of satisfaction over her body. Her cunny spasmed around his cock as he forged deeper and stayed there emptying his seed.

Her pulse thudded in her ears and she flung back her head, taking him so deep, she felt utterly owned by him.

He grabbed her hair, pulling her spine even tauter.

"Ah, yes, like that," she said. "Take me. Oh…my love."

Her hair roots tugged, sharply intensifying the bliss ripping through her. She trembled from head to foot and her toes curled. "Oh…Philip!" His possession of her was so complete, so uninhibited. She wanted the moment to go on forever. He might have been proving his ownership of her, but right now, she also owned his mind and body utterly.

He groaned, a low, guttural noise that thrilled her, then doubled over, his chest covering her back and his cock still lodged deep. "You drive me loco ," he said, "and much as that drives me to distraction, it also makes me want you more, more than I ever thought I would want any woman."

"Good," she managed, staring at the fleur-de-lis pattern on the bed's curtains. "I want you to want me more than you've ever wanted anything or anyone."

He released her hair then pulled out.

She flopped to the bed with her head twisted to the side and her rump still in the air. Cool air washed over her hot flesh.

Breathing hard, he collapsed next to her and stared upward.

"Imagine," she said, studying him. "If we have created a child, a son, right here in French court."

He turned to her.

"A son who will be a brave warrior and a fine politician and will bring down all of France, including King Louis."

"Hush, my love. That is dangerous when spoken of here."

"But I only speak it to you."

"I would not like you to be overheard, or forget yourself after wine." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "The French are known for separating heads from necks with one slice of the sword."

"They would have to get past my knights first."

"And me." He frowned. "Remember."

"Yes, my love, and you." She paused. "But do not fear. I would not dream of uttering one perilous word outside of this bedchamber."

He huffed.

"You do not believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you not to speak ill of the king, but when you refuse to curtsey to him and flaunt your heritage in his face with your gowns and dancing, I have learned just how far I can trust you."

"Which is?"

"Let's just say I know to keep you within arm's reach at all times."

She smiled. "That pleases me, for I hate it when we are apart, even in separate rooms. It hurts me here." She pressed her hand to her chest. "You are my one and only love. My heart speaks your name with each beat."

He smiled and moved a strand of hair from her cheek. "We should get some sleep. It is late and we have had a long day with more long days to come as we journey to Toledo."

*

Her husband had been right. There were many long and arduous days to come, not least because they'd lingered overlong in French court enjoying fine dining and late-night conversations over wine.

During the journey through the Pyrenees, Joanna spent her days in a carriage, lamenting how it rattled her bones but enjoying gossiping with Beatriz.

Philip preferred to ride with Antoine, Thomas, and Belmonte conversing about matters of Burgundy and the Low Countries.

The scenery was beautifully rugged after the flatness she'd become used to, with towering, snow-capped mountains and dense, green forests, as well as babbling streams and wide rivers. The entourage stopped to make camp most nights, but on a few occasions, they stayed in small towns or villages, making the most of inns or local hospitality.

And with every mile, Joanna's heart filled with the knowledge that she would soon be in her beloved Spain again. She longed to see her parents, to show them the lockets engraved with their grandchildren's faces. To show Philip how grand a place it was with beauty in nature and grandeur in its cathedrals and castles.

She only hoped that he would charm them. For he could be as stubborn as her father and the issue of his rightful title was not one he would drop.

"We are nearly at the border," Belmonte said through the window of the carriage as he rode next to it on his large, black horse.

"Oh, at long last." Joanna straightened. "Beatriz, how do I look?"

"Quite well."

"Am I not too pale?" She nipped each of her cheeks to give them some color.

"A little, but that is to be expected in your delicate state."

She rubbed her belly. "How quickly I have fallen with child again." She giggled. "My husband is quite the stallion."

Beatriz glanced away.

"Oh, my friend, do not blush. It is a truth. One only has to look at his fine jawline and pert buttocks to know that his seed is potent."

"Oh, dear Lord." Beatriz crossed herself. "What a thing to say."

Joanna laughed harder. "I am sure my parents will be at the border eagerly awaiting our arrival. I wish to look my very best so they know my husband keeps me in the manner to which I was previously accustomed." She touched her hairline, checking for stray strands peeking from her headdress. "Will this gown suffice?"

"It is a gown made of fine material."

"That is your only comment?" Joanna raised her eyebrows.

Beatriz was quiet.

"Beatriz?"

"It is, for my taste, plain, but then, I am used to a Spanish palate of vibrant reds and greens, orange, and yellow."

"This is traditional Burgundian. The embroidered roses are quite the fashion." Joanna stroked a silk petal sewn into the gown.

"Yes. It is very beautiful." She paused. "The truth is I long for the orange Spanish sun, and the deep green of ripe olives, the flash of blue when a kingfisher swoops over the rivers and…"

Joanna chuckled. "Yes, I know what you mean. The Low Countries are low in color as well as hills."

Beatriz covered her mouth and giggled. "Do not let your husband hear you say that about his land. He will be quite offended."

"He knows that my words run away with me, but as long as I do not upset his dearest new friend, Louis, I am safe."

Beatriz giggled harder and shook her head. "I do not know how you got away with that night. Your gown, your dancing…and heavens above, the fact that you wouldn't curtsey to the king and queen. God must have been protecting you. I certainly feared for you."

"I didn't get away with it entirely." Joanna grinned at the bedchamber memory and then rubbed her belly again. "I was taken in hand in the most basic of ways and now a new king grows inside of me, one whom I will train to bring down France, the very place he was conceived. Do you not think that is revenge enough against Louis for his greed in Italy?"

"Your Highness." Beatriz leaned forward and took Joanna's hands in hers. "You really should be mindful of your words. I fear for you if you become any more reckless."

"Do not fear, because soon, I am home, and a home I will rule over one day." She took her hand from Beatriz's and waved it in the air. "I hope my robes are finished for the ceremony in Toledo. I have no desire to wait around for seamstresses to work from scratch."

"The letter went ahead, with your instructions. Though it is just as well you do not yet have a swollen belly."

"It will come soon enough. Quite honestly, this has been such a long journey, I am surprised the child has not been born and is walking and talking." She laughed. "Don't you agree?"

"The border, Your Highness."

The carriage came to a halt and the door was opened.

Her knights sat on huge horses, sunlight glinting from their armor. Beside them, Philip was on his favorite steed.

Joanna stepped down, aided by a courtier. She looked at the river dappled in shade and the carriage marks that ran through the stones toward the narrow passing place.

Opposite, all was quiet. Sunshine glinted through the canopy, a light breeze rippled through a reed bed, and in the distance, a woodpecker hammered on a trunk.

"Where are my parents?" She frowned.

"It seems they are not here." Philip's horse turned in a circle as though impatient to continue his journey.

"But they must have known we were getting close?" She worried at her bottom lip.

"Perhaps they have miscalculated," Thomas said.

"And are on their way," Antoine added.

She blew out a breath, wishing the black sag of disappointment would go with it. Her parents had abandoned her. Forgotten her. They hated her.

"My love." Philip slipped from his horse and handed the reins to a courtier. "Please, don't upset yourself."

His kind words made her eyes sting with tears. "I am not upset."

He cupped her face and tipped it to his. He smelled of leather, and fresh sweat, and the outdoors. He hadn't shaved for several days, which was most unlike him, and he had a roguish appearance, one that reminded her of the sailors aboard the Julia .

"I can see that you are disappointed, if not upset, but Thomas and Antoine are right. Maybe they just got the day wrong."

"Do you believe that?"

He didn't speak.

"Philip?"

"I'll confess I fear it is me they do not wish to greet."

"Why would you say that?"

He shrugged. "I have it in my head they do not respect me. They have given me the lowly title of consort, after all."

She sighed. "Perhaps we should journey back to Flanders, forget all about the king and queen, my parents, and go and be with our children, whom we both miss terribly."

"After all we have traveled?"

"If that is what will make us happy."

"No." He shook his head. "I should be a prince at your side, for all to see, and although my people see me as such, your people do not. That is why we must push on. We must acquire our rightful titles."

"I will speak to them about this matter. I told you I would."

"And, my love, that is why they are not here. They do not wish to meet their Burgundian prince." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Much as they approved of our marriage to begin with, now they regret it."

"Why would you say that?"

"I have taken you to French court, despite the fact I had every right to as monarch of a vassal state. And on top of that, I have laid stake to a claim of your brother's title and—"

"Oh, poor John. They must miss him terribly. He was always Mother's favorite." She closed her eyes and an image of her brother's youthful face danced in her mind. "I miss him. He was one of my best friends growing up."

"I am so sorry for your loss." He pulled her into a hug. "Now come, let us make haste. Soon we will reach Toledo and we can talk frankly and straighten everything out. And then, when you have given birth, we can return to our beautiful children."

"But John will not be there to greet me." Tears escaped and rolled down her cheeks. Throughout the journey, she'd foolishly pictured her family together again and waiting for her. Gentle John, beautiful Isabella and Maria, and sweet, little Catherine, who was now in England with her new husband, Prince Arthur. "None of them will be there, Philip. None of them, my brother and sisters and their little children and…"

"Hush now. Do not upset yourself." He rubbed her back soothingly. "It will do neither you nor the royal baby any good."

She melted against him, gaining strength from his solid body. He was a balm slicking over her pain, a lullaby to her restless mind. He was her everything. Without Philip, who would she be?

"Your Highness," Beatriz said. "Please, alight the carriage once more. You must eat something—it has been hours."

Philip peeled back from her. "Yes, you are right, Beatriz, my wife must keep up her strength." He urged Joanna toward the carriage. "Please, I beg you, take care of yourself and your precious cargo and I will lead the way to Toledo and there, we can rest together."

"Do you promise? You will come to my bedchamber?"

"Of course, my love." He smiled gently at her. "It is where I always want to be."