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Charlotte wasn’t fooled for a moment. She continued to shake her head as they whirled around the room and looked at him as if he were her own, dearest fool. “You’ve already compromised me,” she said. “And while I would never, ever hold that against you and use it to force you into a marriage, I know full well that you are not the sort to take that action lightly.”

“Neither are you,” Petrus said, more in love with Charlotte than ever for her honestly and bluntness.

The whole thing was wonderful, but Petrus was still left feeling as though something was unfinished.

When the orchestra finished the song and the swirling couples stepped apart to applaud, then move to the sides of the room to find new partners for the next dance, Petrus grasped Charlotte’s hand and swept her all the way out of the room. There was too much activity for anyone to notice them leaving the ball and hurrying down the hallway like children to one of the servants’ stairways.

“Where are we going?” Charlotte asked as they slipped into the narrow passage and made their way up.

“My darling, I think you know full well where we are going,” Petrus said with a sly, sideways look.

Charlotte giggled, proving that she knew as well as he did.

They stepped out of the servants’ stairs on the second floor, then rushed along the hallway hand in hand until they crossed all the way to the other side of the palace and the family wing. No one was there to see Petrus tug Charlotte into his apartment, or to scold him for locking the door behind them and closing his arms around her for a passionate kiss.

“You are my own true princess,” Petrus said as he kissed her, letting his heart have free reign. “The story of tonight might be Oskar’s and Lady Jenny’s story, but they will write ballads of our love someday as well.”

Charlotte laughed as she kissed him back, standing on her toes so that she could throw her arms around his shoulders and meet his passion with fervor of her own. “Our story will be far less suitable for public audience,” she said, inching back and gazing up at him with invitation in her eyes.

Petrus laughed and set to work straight away unbuttoning his formal jacket as he moved toward the bedroom.

They both hurried out of their clothes—as much as one could hurry out of formal ball attire—as they made it to the bedroom. With the pulse of passion beating furiously, they helped each other undress, pausing for kisses now and then, until they were able to tumble into bed and tangle up in each other’s limbs and heat.

Charlotte was delightful in every way, but the way she caressed and embraced him, as though they had been lovers for years instead of days, filled him with a sense of pride and responsibility for her happiness and her pleasure. He kissed and stroked every bit of her that he could reach, listening for her sighs and feeling her body tense and shiver to know whether he was giving her everything she wanted.

But just as he reached the point where he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, he paused, balancing himself above her and gazing down at her wanton beauty.

“Charlotte, my angel,” he said, breathless and aroused by her restlessness. “Even though we aren’t in front of an audience and I’ve no words to make a grandiloquent speech, will you marry me?”

Charlotte sucked in a breath, and Petrus was certain he could feel the bolt of excitement that passed through her. “Yes!” she said, reaching up to grasp the sides of his face. “Yes, oh, yes! I was about to propose to you myself, in fact.”

That made Petrus laugh. It was so like Charlotte to take charge of things, whether it was right and proper or not, when they needed taking charge of. He loved that about her. He loved everything about her.

“I love you,” he told her as he adjusted their bodies so that they would fit together, then sank himself deep into her heat. Charlotte moaned with pleasure and arched to meet him, which only encouraged him. “I love you with everything I am and everything I ever will be,” he said, feeling his control dissolve as he melded with her.

“I love you too, Petrus,” she gasped, then let out a quick, “Oh!” as he plunged into her over and over.

Part of him felt he should have prolonged their lovemaking and given her all the pleasure she could have asked for and more. There would be time for that later. They would have their whole lives to please and delight each other, and he was certain they would. For now, Petrus just wanted to be one with the woman he loved more than anything. And from the way she met his thrusts and clung to him, digging her fingertips into the flesh of his back, that was what she wanted too.

He was surprised when Charlotte tilted her head back and let out an impassioned cry as her body convulsed around him. She was so free with her pleasure that she’d managed to reach her climax despite his too-hasty lovemaking. It was a joy to watch and to feel, and he let himself go and spill into her with abandon. They were one, together for the rest of their lives.

“I love you, my darling,” he said again as they came down from the high of the moment, snuggling together. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” Charlotte replied, a happy hum in her voice that Petrus was determined to keep there forever.

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Tags: Merry Farmer Historical