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As it turned out, she did need to use the excuse of travel being overly taxing—though not really due to the...

The game, she determined grimly. She didn’t know what to think of the sensations or the wickedness of having a ... game piece ... wedged within one’s body for no good reason. No, the reason is that I have no resistance against my husband. He can make me do this, and I will let him...

Her eyes burned from more than the cold when they all hustled into the inn’s reception room.

Her new sister-in-law seemed eager for conversation, but the look Juliet gave Amy upon noticing her creaking, uneven movements spoke to her understanding. Amy blamed it on stiff muscles from the carriage and fled to the room Nicholas had rented for the next few hours.

She didn’t want to think about how her entire body warmed whenever Nicholas looked at her. Or how she leaned in every time he opened his mouth to speak, eager to hear that velvet voice. And she most certainly didn’t want to think about how she missed him even though it’d only been an hour since she’d retired.

Grow up, Amy. This isn’t a love match. I can’t be this stupid...

She lay stomach down on the bed as soon as her maid removed her travel clothes. Staunton tried to insist upon helping her change into a night rail, but Amy refused.

“Go get some rest, Staunton. We may be stuck here with the weather.”

“Very well, my lady.” Staunton looked worried but retreated.

What if Staunton saw ... it? Amy clenched her cheeks and let out a moan. The device didn’t feel all that strange anymore. The pressure felt ... good? Interesting, certainly. Glancing toward the door, she bit her bottom lip and carefully reached back, touching her backside through the shift. I should’ve made Portia explain more about wifely duties.

Surely they don’t include imagining one being uncovered as a wicked, sinful monster. Or letting a new husband treat you like some brothel girl...

She’d begun to reach back again when heavy footsteps approached the door. Grabbing the pillow, she pulled it under her head, pretending she’d been lying down the whole time as her husband entered the room. “Good evening, my lord.”

“Good evening,” he replied with the faintest amused tilt to his lips. Nicholas closed the door, and the bolt dropped home with a solid clunk. He stripped off his coat and loosened his cravat in smooth motions. The valet had laid out a robe for him, but he ignored it as he set the cravat aside and sat down on the chair, working his boots off. “I didn’t think you’d want my valet in here for a full undressing.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“You were practically a ghost at dinner, Mia. I hope you’re not too uncomfortable.”

“No,” she replied, watching his slow, deliberate movements as he shed his coat and began unwinding his cravat. God, what is wrong with me? I should not be so obsessed with his throat... “I apologize. For not staying longer.”

Free of his boots, Nicholas stripped off his waistcoat next, leaving him in a distractingly askew white shirt and breeches. The linen clung to his muscles, and her cunt clenched as she looked at his pants—which instantly provided a twine for distraction. The pain he’d warned her about. He ran a hand through his shaggy, dark hair and flashed a wicked smile. “No one expects a new bride to be much in company for a couple of weeks.” He faced her and unfastened his breeches, pulling them down slowly. Silhouetted by the light of the tiny fireplace, his form made her mouth water. His cock stood up against his stomach, its dangerous length beckoning her to memories of last night’s pleasures.

Is it normal to want him even if it hurts?

His shirt went last, revealing hard muscles, taut skin, and a dusting of dark hair. And ... scars? Amy blinked, fixing on a ragged line along his right side until he dragged on a long, heavy night shirt and the banyan robe. He didn’t bother tying the robe, and his erection stood out like a tent in the shirt. He settled in one of the chairs situated by the fire and held out his hand. “Come here, Mia. You have a game to finish.”

She quivered but did as he bid. Even the slight tremble, the ache as she slowly got to her feet, left a stinging that crept on the edge of pain. I promised to obey.

“I think you’ll have to show me the next move,” she said, her fingers brushing his knuckles as she stopped in front of him.

“I know.” He brought her hand to his soft lips, the scrape of his stubble a reminder that this was no ballroom—if she’d been in any danger of forgetting that while staring at the deep V of his open shirt. “Kneel for me, sweetheart.” He used her arm, guiding her between his legs. Amy hesitated, but he didn’t offer any reprimand—or any more orders—so she got slowly to her knees, and found herself staring straight at his erection. Nicholas smiled and pulled up the shirt. His cock bobbed as he inhaled, and she took a quick, shocked breath. It moves? The hell?

Worse, she hadn’t expected it to be that big up close. Or have ... veins? She’d felt it, touched it. But hadn’t gotten such an unnervingly close look. Is he sure that thing doesn’t hurt him? Maybe men don’t notice...

Nicholas didn’t seem too concerned as he wrapped one hand around the swollen shaft and stroked himself. He still had hold of her unresisting hand and guided it to replace his. “I’ve been stroking you often enough, Mia. I thought you might feel a bit more, ah, empowered if you learned to play with me in turn.”

She never thought about what a cock would feel like before being confronted with one the other day, and she still marveled at the velvet-smooth skin, how it contrasted against the rigidity of his erection. His hand guided hers for a few strokes, then he released, leaving her to continue without his direction. Amy happily obliged, driven as much by desire as curiosity. She tightened her grasp, pulsing the pressure and watching his face to see if she was doing it right.

He sucked in air between his teeth, his hips twitching. “Good girl.” Nicholas’s fingers toyed with her hair, his big palm cupping the back of her head. “When I play with you, you get wet, ready to be fucked. Cocks don’t manage the same trick. But you can work around that.” His hand slid down, his thumb brushing along her lower lip. “Open.”

Captivated by the burning heat in his eyes, she parted her lips. His thumb pressed into her mouth, just to the first knuckle. “Close your lips and suck... That’s it.” He sighed as she complied, and his cock twitched in her hand. “No teeth. Wrap your lips around them... Clever girl.” He grinned and pulled his thumb back, then pushed in again with an appreciative groan while Amy’s head spun with the obscenity. She kept moving her hand along his cock but focused on his thumb. “Now, you can try that with something larger? Or would you rather wait for another night?”

Her eyes dropped to look at his cock, widening at first, but her brows knit together as she imagined the act. His length seemed to be the only impediment. Pulling her head back to release his thumb, she nodded, licking her lips. “I—I can try.”

Taking a soft, deep breath, she lowered her head between his thighs, parting her lips again. The moment the tip entered her mouth, her tongue stroked instinctively even as she dared take more of him. She stopped well before taking him fully but began sucking as she’d done with his thumb.

“God damn ... Good girl.” Nicholas groaned, and his fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her slowly back, then forward. “Use your hand to pleasure what doesn’t fit.” His voice was deeper, and tension thrummed through the thighs she leaned against. “That’s it, Mia.”