Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
He held his wife’s hands upon his cock and shoved into them, letting her feel his member pulsing as he reached his satisfaction. His seed spurted with great force, falling on his stomach and chest, and on her hands. Some landed on the bed. Every nerve fired with pleasure, until he felt wrung out. He’d been too long without release, and his prickly, prudish wife fired his blood to hell for some inexplicable reason.
But he did not do much for her. She regarded him with barely veiled disgust, as if she’d received no pleasure at all a few minutes earlier.
“It’s a perfectly natural biological function,” he said in his defense. “Your satisfaction, too.”
She stood beside him, so close and yet so far away. Ah well, it would take more than sensual satisfaction to cure what was wrong between them. At least they’d shared a few moments of bliss.
He relieved her of the ginger in her bottom and sent her to his washroom to clean up. Afterward, he made her climb naked into his bed. Did she consider that a punishment? Probably, but he chose not to ask. He wanted her near him after they’d shared such heady, perverse acts. If she had nightmares—of the fire, or of his “awful” cock rising up before her—he might as well be right there next to her to soothe her terrors away.
“I like you,” he said again as they lay together in the dark. She curled as far from him as she was able, but in sleep, she always ended up in his arms. “I like you even if you don’t like me.”
“It’s hard to like you when you’re always punishing me,” she said. “Especially when it’s not deserved.”
“I decide when it’s deserved. Perhaps I’ll take you to the Greek temple next time.”
She made no answer to that, only lay very still as if to discourage that line of thought, or escape his notice altogether. He was probably making a mess of things in their new marriage, but he’d always been one to act up and do as he pleased. His father called it boldness and thought it was good. His mother called it mischief and chided him to be civil. His wife…
Well, she had two stripes across her bottom, and a lingering bit of sting in her arsehole for good measure. She would lie still and pretend surrender for now, but it was temporary, which pleased him. If they must be rivals, he would turn it to his purposes time and again, until she realized her resistance was pointless.
When she began to murmur in her restless dreams, he drew her naked limbs close and cradled her until the tension ebbed and eased away. “Sweet songbird,” he whispered. “This isn’t a cage, you know. I’ll hear you sing again one day.”
He didn’t stir again until late the next morning, when he heard his valet tap softly from the dressing room.
“What is it?” he asked, blinking to wakefulness. His wife came from a heavy sleep, stirring against his side. She looked tired in the late morning light, rumpled in the most alluring way.
“My lord,” he said through the door. “You have visitors: your parents the Duke and Duchess have arrived with Lady Hazel and Lady Elizabeth, and a pair of your gentleman friends.”
He rubbed a hand through his hair, stifling a groan. Visitors? It hadn’t been a week yet since they’d married.
“Marlow and Augustine?” he asked.
“Indeed, my lord. They’ve apologized that it’s not winter yet.”
Marlow and Augustine would have come to the country with their families to spend a few days. He supposed he was lucky the entire Oxfordshire circle hadn’t arrived on his doorstep. Here he was in his honeymoon bed with a morning cock as stiff as petrified wood, and a drawing room full of visitors.
“We’ve offered them luncheon in the larger parlor,” his valet added when he didn’t stir or reply.
“Very well,” he called toward the door. “I’ll get up to dress in a moment.”
“I await your pleasure, my lord.”
As Wescott stretched beside his bride, memories of the previous night returned, making his cock ache even more. She remembered too, if her sudden blush and frown was any indication.
“Some family and friends have come to visit,” he told her. “That’s the only thing about the Abbey. It’s situated far too close to everyone else’s home.” He reached to touch a lock of her hair, so blonde and fine. “As much as you love lying abed with me, we must awaken and dress.”
She needed no further invitation to escape his company, and made as if to rise at once, but he pulled her back and surprised her with a kiss. Perhaps it surprised both of them. She responded at first, moving her lips against his, but as soon as he pulled her closer, the mood was broken and she scooted back.