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“It is a wonderful world, Viscount Clarendel.”

He exhaled a faint laugh. "I'll believe it if you say that in the morning." A light kiss touched her forehead. "I didn't mean to be so rough, but I forget all my best intentions the second I strip your clothes off."

“You’re already forgiven.” She let her head fall to the center of his chest. If not for the shirt, she’d have happily planted kisses along his skin... “Maybe one day, you’ll allow me to strip yours?”

He looked down as if surprised to see his clothing mostly intact. "Drat. I'd let you do so now, but neither of us has that much strength left. Tomorrow, maybe."

Nicholas helped her squirm further down under the covers before getting up to rid himself of everything but the shirt. He rejoined her with more soft words and soothing touches until they settled into the pillows. He was always so severe, even when he smiled. But with the cloak of sleep, his lips softened into a sweet curve.

Amy placed a cautious kiss against his high cheekbone before settling back on her pillow, closing her eyes, and chasing her husband into the land of dreams and peace.

Chapter Seven - Nicholas

(Clarkson’s Inn, Gretna Green. Nov 14, 1813)

The morning brought a maid and his valet, and far too much noise. Nicholas lifted his head to acknowledge their presence, and even that was a trial. His new wife did not stir at all. That thought—that he had a wife—more than the company kept him from going back to sleep. He allowed himself to drink in the sight of her. While she was covered modestly, the bare expanse of her back tempted his fingers to stroke her warm, satin skin down to the ragged edges of her scars. I should kiss those later.

Nicholas leaned over, running gentle fingers along her shoulder and up into her soft, gold hair.

“Mia, sweetheart. Time to get dressed,” he whispered, nuzzling her ear.

She left out a quiet whine and buried her face into the pillow, but he felt her tense when her backside rubbed against him. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, her dark eyes slowly opened, peering at him beneath heavy lids. “Can’t we sleep a little more?”

He smoothed a hand along her hip, pulling her more tightly against his erection. “We are due back at Clarendel Manor soon. And it might be awkward for your maid to arrive with tales of walking in to find me buried between your legs.”

Her hand covered his, her fingers stroking his knuckles like she was about to play the pianoforte. “Awkward for whom?”

“Not worried about the footmen knowing how much you enjoy this?” His hand flattened along her stomach and down, fingertips brushing her folds. “Or this?” He kissed her throat, just below her ear.

She whimpered, leaning against him, her fingers gripping his hand firmly. “Would you prefer I act as though I don’t want you inside me again?”

“I believe that is the fashionable approach, my beautiful bride.” His fingers crept lower, and he smiled to find her slick, but kept his touch careful.

The inn was never quite silent, and outside their room, the rush of boots and cries from the stable yard rose in volume. And the rustle of the maid lighting the fire and setting water out in the room beyond their curtained bed reminded him of her presence as well. Not that he cared—a maid in a traveling hotel would hear far worse than this before noon.

“But I don’t mind if you feign frigidity for the world.” He lowered his voice even further and nipped at her throat, just hard enough to make her breath hiss through her teeth. “I know the truth. You’re my sweet, willing little pet.” His forefinger flicked over her clit.

“N—Nicholas...” Her hand gripped his wrist, but her attempt to stop him faltered with a strangled moan. “Th—there’s someone ... oh God...” She tightened her hold but was no longer attempting to pull him away. “We mustn’t...”

“Mm.” He kept circling her clit with the lightest touch, well aware of how sensitive she’d be after his rough treatment the night before. “Of course not.” He brought the arm under her neck up and around, caging her, and capturing her breast in his demanding hand. He debated whether he should push her toward an orgasm or stop and leave her desperate as well as embarrassed. But that game was likely a step too advanced when she’d only begun to learn the dance. So, he slid a second finger down, gently rolling her swollen, slick little bud, stroking her folds, finding exactly which motions made her hips twitch.

Amy’s head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes closing as she bent her leg, spreading for him. He saw the blush on her cheeks, how it spread down her throat to her breasts, where her perfect, pink nipples were hard and swollen. Her hand released his wrist, and she anchored herself by grabbing his leg, squeezing the muscle of his thigh, nails scraping his skin.

“You’re a fiend...” But she said it with a smile and brushed her lips along his stubbled jaw.

“Yes,” he agreed, without missing a beat, taking the better access to risk exploring her bruised cunt—just to watch her reactions. He kept a steady rhythm against her clit, but rolled her nipple harder to make her gasp. “You belong to a devil, Mia love. Best enjoy the flames.”

She mewled, but rather than shy away from his touch, her fingers stroked over his balls, the base of his shaft in the most ghostly brushes. As though she wasn’t sure she was allowed.

“Good girl,” he whispered, pushing his hips forward to encourage her exploration, though it was undoing his control. He heard the maid leaving, so he dipped his fingers into her swollen channel as the door latched closed. “You want me to fuck you right now? Or are you too sore? Does my beauty need taken care of?”

Her body tightened, and her moan became a wince. Still, she nodded her head. “Yes,” she whispered. “All of those things.”

“If I fuck you now, you’ll have a very rough carriage ride,” he reminded her as well as himself, while adding a second finger.

God, he loved watching her writhe. And come. A fiery, proprietary need welled up, and he traced his free hand along the marks he’d left on her breast.

“Come for me. Show me how willing you are, Mia.”