As promised - a steamy conclusion. Enjoy, dear Banna fans!
No stew had ever tasted so good. No chairs had ever been so comfortable, and no meal they had ever shared had been so filled with laughter and affection. As the fire burned low and the last scraps were eaten, and the glasses of delicious Champagne were finally emptied, it was time for bed.
"Shall we?"
John was on his feet, his hand held out. Anna kissed him on the cheek.
"You go up," she said warmly. "I won't be long, I just want to wash the grime off while there's some warm water left."
"Alright... but don't be long, or I will come looking for you."
"I won't be, I promise."
Once he was safely upstairs, Anna hastened over to the bag she had smuggled in and left just inside the door. He had given her his surprise. Now it was time for hers... Shaking out the contents, suppressing a giggle of nostalgia and wicked anticipation, she hurried through her wash at the kitchen sink and hastened to get ready for bed.
...
John was sat in bed, reading. Or rather, he was pretending to himself that he was reading, as his eyes slid off the page and kept flicking up towards the door, waiting for Anna to appear.
He could hardly wait and hoped desperately that she was as eager for their physical reunion as he was. He hoped so, an informed hope too from the notes they had exchanged. She had been so eager in her desire for him, so forthcoming about her feelings that even reading them through gave him shivers of anticipation and left his palms damp with sweat.
At long last, after what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, he heard her footsteps tripping up the stairs.
There was a little knock at the door, which made him smile. The door opened a crack.
"Mr Bates?" she said softly.
John almost wanted to laugh at her teasing. Then he saw how she was dressed.
Anna wore her old uniform, the long green dress, overlaid with the white apron, the lace edges just as he'd remembered them. She had even bundled up her hair beneath the white half cap that Mrs Hughes insisted upon. She looked as if she had walked out of the fantasy he had written for her, out of every longing and wish he'd cherished whilst in prison, replaying old memories and conversations and affectionate exchanges in his mind.
"I hope you won't find me too forward if I suggest spending the night in here, with you, tonight."
John couldn't speak. His throat was dry, his lips parched and no sound would emerge from them. His eyes ran up and down over her, recalling every time he had longed to take her in his arms, to hold her, kiss her, and more...
Anna smiled to see him so speechless, silently congratulating herself on the success of her surprise. Slowly, swaying her hips just so, she walked over and sat down on the bed, sliding her hand up his leg over the blankets.
"I hope that you won't mind..." she purred softly, leaning closer to him. "It's just... I have wanted to, ever since I first saw you, when you arrived here..."
Gently, her lips met his, the most light and sensual of touches, as shy and nervous as she had been the first time he had kissed her. John shivered, lost in a dream, feeling the fire rise in his blood when her tongue gently ran across his bottom lip.
Before he could reach for her, she pulled back, a teasing and coy expression upon her face.
"Unless, of course, you don't want me to stay ... Mr Bates..."
John's arms remembered how to move, reaching for her hurriedly, not caring about the book, which slid to the floor with a thump.
"Of course I want you to stay... now, kiss me again..."
She tasted delicious, he could still taste the last sip of champagne as his tongue slid past her lips, his hands reaching up to play with the soft coil of her hair, trapped beneath the white lacy cap. He felt her soften, heard her moan slightly beneath the touch of his shaking fingers. The kiss broke apart, leaving both of them breathless with desire. John's eyes drank her in, his fingers stroking at the side of her face, marvelling at how her blue eyes could see right into his soul.
"So... what exactly have you wanted..?"
His voice was ragged, hoarse with longing. He hardly dared move in case he broke this spell.
Anna's eyes narrowed slightly, her beautiful, kissable mouth curving into a smile. Slowly she leaned closer, gently pushing him back until he was laid in bed with her leaning over him.
"Just you..." she whispered, her voice a soft plea of longing. "All of you..."
With one more kiss, John's mind melted with desire. Turning swiftly, he pulled her over him, onto the bed. Anna gasped as she landed flat on her back, looking up to see him gazing down at her, eyes burning like coals, hot with passion.
"Oh you can have all of me, Anna... you can have whatever you want from me..."
With one hand, he unfastened the cap, tossing it behind him onto the floor. Her hair tumbled down onto her shoulders, a soft golden cloud. John threaded his fingers into it, slowly massaging her scalp, feeling her writhe against him, her eyes closing with pleasure.
Oh dear God, the way she moved...
But he had himself slow down, to enjoy every second of this little game she had set out for them to play. He traced a line of soft kisses from the side of her face, just beneath her ear, down her throat towards the collar of her dress. The old fashioned, modest design soon impeded his progress.
Gently, his fingers teased open the small buttons beneath her chin, allowing him to kiss the soft hollow of her throat, while his hand stroked along the lines of the lace apron, over her breasts, down along her sides to her waist. Anna's back arched in pleasure, her chest rising up to meet his, unwittingly allowing him to unfasten the strings of the apron, pulling it loose and tugging it over her head.
Her hands slid over him, down towards the hem of his undershirt, easing their way inside his clothing to run up over his stomach and chest, fingertips teasing through his hair. The cool soft touch against his body made him instantly hard, swollen with longing for her.
Anna sighed, her eyes flickering open to meet his.
"You feel so good," she murmured softly. "Just as good as I imagined, as I dreamed..."
A flash of heat spread through John's body at the idea of Anna thinking about him in that way.
"What did you imagine?"
"About how it would feel to have your hands against my skin... running over me..."
Oh his wife was wicked, there was no doubt about it, and John was thankful beyond measure for it. He slid his hand down to find the hem of her dress, easing his way beneath and sliding the palm of his hand up over her soft, shapely legs.
"Oh Mr Bates... your touch feels so good..."
"Tell me how good," he growled, sliding further up towards her thighs. He felt her body contract with pleasure as his thumb teased along the sensitive insides of her legs.
Anna licked her lips, leaned her head up to whisper in his ear.
"Your fingers feel so much better there than mine did..."
His imagination on fire, images sweeping through his mind, John fought a valiant battle for his self control, feeling a wave of pure hunger rush through his veins at the idea of his wife stroking herself while thinking of him, wanting him and dreaming of his touch. Anna's hands reached for his shirt, dragging it over his head, desperate to feel his body against hers.
He struggled to his knees, his hands seized at the hem of her dress, pulling it up over her head to reveal her, laid out in her slip, writhing and wanton on their bed.
Their bed. Their marriage bed.
Gazing down at her, John shuddered, wrestled back his self control, removing his hands from her legs.
"Show me..."
Anna moaned in protest at the loss of his touch. Gently, John took her hand, laid it against her bare thigh, unfolding her fingers from her clenched fist of frustration. Her eyes flickered open to meet his.
"Show me...?"
His voice was a plea, his eyes filled with longing, and Anna couldn't refuse him, had no intention of denying him anything he wanted tonight. Lightly, she slid her own finger tips up her leg, the sensation of her own cool touch teasing against every nerve ending in her thigh, mesmerised by the expression on her husband's face.
The sight of Anna, so confident and in control of her wants and desires, was the most erotic thing John had ever seen.
His own hand lingered around her knees, aching to follow, waiting...
As her fingertips brushed against her underwear, Anna slowed her movements.
"Don't stop..." John muttered. "Take them off..."
Anna did so, sliding the garment down her long, shapely legs. John swallowed a whimper of desire at the sight of his wife, almost naked in his bed, in their bed. He was caught by surprise when Anna slid her fingers up her thigh, dipping them into the soft, moist folds between her legs.
He couldn't wait much longer. His own hands eased up her legs, his touch a shade firmer, slowly kneading with his thumbs. Lightly, he brushed the pad of one thumb across the damp folds of her sex. Anna's hips bucked and she groaned beneath his attentions.
He leaned over her, settling between her thighs and bending down to teethe at her nipples, already stiff beneath the thin cotton of her slip. She cried out, a small shriek of pleasure at the sensitive touch, her legs coiling around his. Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer to her.
"Oh... Mr Bates..."
"Oh Anna... please... call me John..."
"I want you ... John..."
Her hands slid down his back, round to his waist, pushing off the shorts he wore. The sensation of Anna's nakedness against his loins was more than John could bear, he couldn't wait any longer. Tugging the hem of her slip up over her head, he feasted his eyes upon his wife, laid beneath him, begging for him to make love to her again.
"Please John..."
As slowly as he could bear to, John slid into her, groaning softly at the slick, wet sensation as she surrounded him, her own voice catching in her throat, a deep moan of pleasure and satisfaction. Her hands gripped at his shoulders, her nails digging into him, a sensation that sparked fireworks in his blood. He loved to see her like this, to feel her lose control as he moved within her.
"Oh John... yes..."
The sound of his given name, falling from her lips like a prayer, was like riches to him. The feel of her legs, twining around his, was better than any dream he had ever had. Kissing and nipping at her throat, laving at her skin with his tongue, John surrendered to the natural rhythm of her movements, feeling her heat rise, letting his own blood sing in response to her sweetness, the soft sounds of excitement slipping from her lips.
He felt her tense around him, the long remember sensation of her quivering against him from their wedding night, felt himself succumb with a roar to his own heights of pleasure as she cried out his name once more.
The sound of their breathing mingled with the inaudible hum beneath both of their skins, the sensation of passion receding, pleasure simmering down once more, the slick touch of their hands against each other, their skin damp with sated longing. Moving to lie beside her, John pulled Anna's unresisting body into his arms, feeling her sigh and snuggle against him, her arm snaking around his waist.
"Oh my goodness..." she murmured softly.
"I know," he breathed, feeling his own ravaged breathing settle in his chest.
"John that was... more than I ever dreamed."
With a kiss on her forehead, John gazed down into her face, amazement shining in her cheeks, eyes and smile.
"Someday my love, I look forward to knowing even more about what you dreamed."
A shy smile spread over Anna's face.
"You never know," she giggled, teasing. "Perhaps I'll write you some more notes."
Sleepiness overtook both of them as they snuggled down together. Mentally, John added 'more writing paper' to the list of presents he intended to spoil her with for her birthday.