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“Nicholas,” she moaned, her hips rocking against his hand while her own wrapped around his cock, stroking what she could reach in earnest. “Nicholas! Gods ... I can’t...” Her body began to tremble, her breath quickening, but she held back. Like she was afraid to let go. “I ... Oh!” Her cry was loud and unguarded, and she clamped hard on his fingers, her cream coating his hand while she shivered and gasped.

“There you are, bella mia.” His cock throbbed, but he gritted his teeth, ignoring it. For the moment. Instead, he slowly withdrew from his wife. Softening the abandonment with lingering kisses. “Now, let’s see about getting to the carriage. The sooner we reach Clarendel, the sooner I can debauch you in peace and quiet.”

He’d also need to see if the letters from the solicitors and agents had reached it ahead of him—the issue of her inheritance and the true state of her father’s finances being a chief consideration. But the accounts felt rather less important this morning.

Amy followed him up, wincing as she moved. He studied the jagged marks across her ribs when she turned her back to don her shift. Her sire had certainly not held back on the rod. Which explained her hesitancy about being struck, but not the instantaneous pleasure response she’d had to it the previous night, right before her brain caught up to what’d happened. Nicholas wondered if her edict against striking would last once she got more comfortable with the nature of their relationship. Of course, there were plenty of other ways to strike her, as the small pink bruise on her throat showed. Not to mention the finger marks on her breasts, or the swollen appearance of her nipples.

Gods, I’m not going to last the day. I’ll have to instruct her on sucking cock. The idea amused him, though it wasn’t his preferred activity. The road wouldn’t work for that, but if they pulled the carriage off for a rest ...

His valet knocked, and Nicholas allowed him in. Amy’s maid came with him, and the rituals of dressing and travel logistics commenced. He once again chose for Amy and himself to occupy a private carriage and escorted her downstairs. His bride blushed through breakfast, while his sister regaled them with tales of the inn’s amusements—plus a few dry remarks about wedding nights that appeared to discomfort Amy even more. He realized belatedly she’d figured out that at least most of their floor must’ve heard her. She’ll have to get used to that.

They eventually piled into the carriages, and he handed her in first, followed by a basket of food and flasks of spiced wine, then got in himself and allowed the servants to set the hot coals and tuck the traveling blankets around them. The day was cold, and a carriage with only two people would need the extra warmth. Though what he intended for Amelia would no doubt keep her from feeling it.

****

Tucked in snugly, they set off, jostling and jolting their way out of the cobbled inn courtyard. Nicholas slung an arm around Amy and stroked the high neck of her traveling cloak, then followed the seam down over her breasts.

“Now, where were we...? Ah. I know. You are going to tell me what you really wanted me to be doing to you on that ghastly ride northward when I had to pretend to be a gentleman.”

She shivered. Her gaze locked with his, a blush rising to her cheeks once again. A blush he knew was spreading just like when she’d been naked beneath him. He pictured her breasts as though she was bare before him again, and his mouth watered before she even spoke.

“I wanted your hands on me ... like you’d done in London. But after last night, I confess that my imagination was, um, limited.”

“Mia dolcezza, don’t apologize. Your imagination will exceed itself soon.” Nicholas slid his gloved hand into her cloak, caressing her curves. “I think the best way to keep you warm might be with my hand between your legs, don’t you? I wouldn't want you to freeze...”

“Mm.” She leaned against him, her dress rustling beneath the cloak and blankets as her knees parted. “I believe your concern warrants an attempt, my lord. I’m already warmer just thinking about it.” A timid smile graced her angelic features, and he grabbed her hair to claim a hard kiss.

“That’s good.” He squeezed her breast. “Now lift your dress up under the blankets. I don’t want to get you tangled and rip something. I’ll shred this accursedly modest dress once we’re safely at Clarendel.”

She obeyed, shifting once more to hike her skirts higher. Lifting a hand out of the cloak, she touched his cheek, her thumb tracing his jawline. “Kiss me, again. Please?” Her eyes fixed on his lips as she licked her own.

“Of course.” He bent down, but this time he didn’t hold back. His lips crushed hers with the full desperation he felt—an alien urgency to mark her, fuck her, make her scream his name until she couldn’t remember how speech worked. He only stopped to pull back and rip his left glove off before thrusting his hand beneath the blankets, seeking her heat. Her very wet heat.

Nicholas groaned, his fingers flexing as he cupped her. “What do you want, Mia? Right now?”

She was breathless, and as her back arched, her breasts emerged from the cloak, pointing toward the roof of the carriage, her chest heaving with each quick pant. Her lips moved, but no words sounded. Not until she grabbed the edge of the seat, clutching hard enough he half expected the cushions to rip. “You,” she choked. “I—I want ... I want you!”

Christ, you have me. He didn’t say so out loud, but watching her, he felt quite sure of it. Perhaps it was mere fascination. She was uniquely in his power, as no mistress would’ve been, nor most wives—she had no marriage settlement, no familial contract to protect her. He’d taken her virginity, and he now had her fortune as well. A beautiful, sweet, passionate, and willing sacrifice... Perhaps this is what is meant by a honeymoon. He breathed out, determining that must be the case. Let the fever take its course. You’ll come to your senses in a week.

With that, he fell upon her, yanking her neckline down and kissing the sweet flesh of her breasts while he stroked her dripping cunt. His cock ached so badly he could damn near feel it in his teeth, but he found himself savoring the bondage. The restraint. And the image of what he would do to her when his patience broke. Until then, he determined to see how many times Amy could take being teased to orgasm. He pushed her once she’d come again, wielding a third finger in her aching body to work her pleasure-spots into a fevered pitch. The laces of her dress loosened at some point—or perhaps broke—and her right nipple peaked above her stays, so he seized upon it eagerly, using everything to wrest pleasure from her. Over and over, until he had to put his hand across her mouth lest the coachman stop to inquire the problem. The winter winds and blowing snow could silence much, but not everything.

Finally, convinced by her near swooning state to stop, Nicholas pulled back, surveying his work. Amy sprawled against his side, trembling from exertion, her hair tousled beneath her hood, her cheeks bright pink, her dress so far askew her stays showed, and her bared breast, wet with kisses and so sensitive she gasped if he breathed across it. He let his fingers stray over her shaking thighs beneath the robes, smiling to feel how slick they were.

“And how are you enjoying your new life, Lady Mia?”

Her head tilted lazily in his direction, a sleepy smile claiming her swollen lips. “I certainly have developed a new appreciation for carriages.”

“Good.” He straightened up, disentangling from her to retrieve a small package from his coat pocket. Kept close to his body, it would at least be warm. “Now, it’s time for you to be a very good girl, Mia. And let your lord do whatever he wants, isn’t it?”

She lifted a brow, eyeing him suspiciously. “Have ... you not already been doing that?” She sat up straighter, shuddering when her cloak grazed her nipple.

He laughed and kissed her gently. “That was what you want—though I wanted it too. This next adventure might be a little unnerving. But I want you to trust me.” He touched her chin. “Like last night, Mia. If I hurt you, I’ll make it better. That’s how it will be.”

She kept silent for a moment, and he swore he could see the cogs in her head turning. Her gaze fell to his hand, her teeth drawing her lower lip in. “Are ... you going to spank me again? In here?” Her cheeks reddened. “I—I do. Trust you, that is. I ... I just worry that...” She looked away from him. “Forgive me, my lord. I do not want to disappoint—”

“Angel.” He caught her chin, pulling her face back to meet his gaze. What little light penetrated the coach’s heavy winter curtains didn’t help the unsteady jostling of the road to keep their gazes locked, but he wanted her to see his expression. “Remember, you promised obedience when we are alone. So, tell me. There’s no other way to disappoint me, Mia.”

She leaned into his hand. “Y—you saw the, er, ugly spots on my back, my lord. You must know how they were acquired. I ... worry that my reactions to what you desire may be construed as disobedience and—”