Chapter 29

Jane

I sink into the warm embrace of the water and let the ravages of the day leach away. I cannot help but fret. Will I forever be trapped in this house? I had the chance to escape, but I could not take it, not without betraying Broek. And now, I wonder if he will ever forgive me. In weariness, I close my eyes and try to empty my mind of this misery.

Time passes. I am drifting into a semi-conscious reverie. Then the washroom door opens. I blink my eyes and see a naked Broek stride into the room. He gives me a cursory nod and marches to the rain shower, sliding the glass door shut behind him. A moment later, warm jets of water rain down on him.

I turn my head in shock to watch him. He has his back to me and is scrubbing his body vigorously, then washing his hair with soap, for all the world as if this is a natural thing to do in my presence. I cannot help but admire his body. The strong muscles of his back ripple with each move and the firm roundness of his buttocks have me ache to touch them again. Oh my! What is he doing? Does this mean he has forgiven me? I do not understand.

The rain shower stops and a moment later, he is sliding open the glass door and stepping out. Without a care, he rubs a towel briskly over his body to dry himself, then drops it on a chair. As I gape at him, he comes towards me and enquires, “Enjoying the bath?”

“Erm, yes, thank you.”

He nods again and turns to the wash basin. He takes out a small contraption that I have noticed before but not cared to investigate. He pours a thick liquid over the brush-like implement then puts it into his mouth, whereupon it makes a strange, buzzing sound. He moves it around his mouth, and I realise this contraption is for cleansing teeth. Ha! My tooth powder and brush achieve the same without all the unnecessary effort. Scientifically advanced or not, I believe my method is superior.

I lie back in the tub once more and watch him from the corner of my eye. He finishes with the contraption and spits the liquid, then washes out his mouth with water. Finally, he pats his face dry with a cloth then turns to face me, hands on hips. “So, Jane,” he says gruffly, “you wish me to court you and to gallantly propose.”

I sink lower into the water under the intensity of his gaze. “If other conditions are met first,” I squeak bravely.

He nods thoughtfully. “That can be achieved,” he says on a grunt. “As of now, Jane, consider yourself free. Take the carriage out whenever you wish.” With a quick smile, he adds, “Enjoy your bath. Goodnight.” Then he walks away, shutting the door quietly behind him.

I follow him with my eyes, too shocked to speak. Relief, elation and some much deeper emotion wage war within my breast. On impulse, I rise out of the bath and briskly dry myself with a towel, throwing it down when I am done, much in the manner he just did. And then, with determination in every step, wearing not a stitch of clothing, I march towards the door that leads to his chamber. With no hesitation, I open it wide and walk in.

He is sitting in bed, the covers loosely gathered in his lap. I go towards him and with an imperious flick of my hand, pull the blanket off him and throw it to the end of the bed. An instant later, I scramble over him to straddle his lap, planting my hands over his shoulders. His eyes are liquid fire as he stares into mine. “You promised me satisfaction every night,” I taunt. “Now show me.”

Barely have I spoken than with a groan deep in his throat, he has me gathered to him and is tumbling us over on the bed so his body covers mine entirely. A moment later, he claims my lips in the wildest, most possessive kiss that has ever existed in the universe. Our hands claw greedily as we attack each other, rational thought gone, only a deep instinctual need driving us to act. Lips and tongues seek then find, legs entwine and hips press together in a rhythm driven by elemental passion. “Fill me, Broek,” I moan against his lips. “Fill me.”

“I will, my heart, I will,” he grits in between desperate kisses. His hand flies down to cup my mound, then suddenly he is shifting down the bed to replace his hand with his mouth. With big, strong hands, he raises my hips to his lips and feasts on me, like he once promised he would. I gasp at the sensation, jerking uncontrollably as his tongue licks a long path from my opening to the small nub of joyfulness above it. He rains wet kisses on this most sensitive part of me, interspersed with laps of his tongue. He nips gently with his teeth then sucks. He devours every inch of that secret flesh with a hunger that leaves me trembling and undone. No part of me is left untouched, even the crevice between my buttocks is lavished with the wet stroke of his tongue. I moan. I cry. When his strong mouth clamps on my pleasure nub and sucks, I shriek. “Broek!”

He looks up, his face smeared with my lustful juices, and palms his huge, swollen member. “Will you take me now?” he growls desperately.

“Yes! Yes!”

Already, he is notching his male shaft to my entrance, and then he is pushing in, slowly but inexorably, until all his length is sheathed within me. No sooner has he filled me than he begins to move, pounding in and out. He leans over me, bracketing my body with his elbows as his mouth captures mine again. I taste the muskiness of my scent on him, but I do not dwell on this, for I am lost to powerful sensation as he drives himself deep within me while he possesses my mouth. Deep, oh so deep, he plunges, over and over, melding us together until I cannot say where I end and he begins.

I run my fingers through his soft locks and grip his head tight to me, wanting his kiss, wanting his possession of my body to last for the rest of time. I feel him shift his stance and lift my knees, then he is back to thrusting his shaft into me, his lips never leaving mine. Now with each thrust I feel him stroke a part of me deep inside that throbs at his every touch, driving me wild with need. “More!” I demand, and he obliges, plunging rapidly and deep as I begin to feel that build-up of sensation that will soon drive me to the precipice.

He senses I am close to it, for he redoubles his efforts, groaning with each powerful thrust. “Come, Jane!” he roars, his desperation lighting a fire that finally sends me hurtling to that pinnacle. With a loud moan, I lose myself in pulsing ecstasy. Broek follows me over the precipice, pulsing his shaft as he spends his seed inside me.

It is a long time before we are recovered enough from our pleasure to move. With a gentle kiss to my lips, Broek pulls out and drops onto his back beside me. We lie side by side, staring at the bed canopy and coming back to our senses. I have behaved wantonly, but I do not seem to care. What Broek and I experience when our bodies join is so profound a feeling that it can only be a gift from God. I am certain of it. That does not mean, of course, that we should not be plighting our troth in church at the soonest opportunity, only that I cannot find it in me to feel shame for what we have done.

Broek turns his face to me. “So, Jane, have I satisfied you tonight?”

“Indeed you have, Broek. I thank you.”

I hear his quiet chuckle and smile to myself. A moment later, he is on his feet. “Stay,” he commands as he strides to the washroom, returning soon after with a wet cloth. He uses it to cleanse us, then deposits it in the washroom again. When he returns, I am sitting up, readying to go to my chamber.

“Where do you think you are going?” he snarls.

I raise a brow. “Back to my chamber, of course, unless you wish to give me more satisfaction tonight.”

“I may do so once I have regained my strength.” He is now at the bed and lifting me easily in his arms before tossing me onto the other side of it. A moment later, the blanket is thrown over me. “You will sleep here from now on,” he pronounces, settling under the covers beside me.

I frown. “But we are not yet married.”

“Jane,” he says impatiently, his usual scowl making a reappearance on his countenance. “We have experienced all the intimacies of a married couple. Do not balk at this now.” He places a possessive hand on my hip then grunts, “Lights out.” A moment later, we are in darkness. “Sleep,” he commands. Dictatorial man! I should put up some resistance to these managing tendencies, but not tonight, I think as I emit a loud yawn. Instinctively, I burrow close to his large body and breathe in his heavenly scent. Tomorrow, I think sleepily. We can resolve everything else then.