looks at them. No, her hands trembled in response to knowing just how much she liked what was hidden beneath the wool of his clothing.
Her hands were quick and efficient, too efficient for her poise. The creamy skin of his chest was too tempting. She wanted to run her fingers through the dark mat of hair that covered the hard ridges. Instead she unhooked the waistband of his pants and drew them down his legs.
His cock was hard …
She shivered and tried to avoid looking at it while disrobing him. There was nothing meek about her feelings, but the maids were still dressing the bed in the chamber next door; she could hear them moving around the huge bed even if she could not see them.
That didn’t seem to quell the heat rising inside her, however. Passion was igniting with every garment she removed from her husband. She wanted to place a soft kiss against his collarbone and another against his neck, just as he had done to her the last moment that they lay entangled.
Bridget shook herself and turned her back on the temptation her husband’s body presented. Taking a moment to shake out his pants, she folded them neatly and heard a splash behind her. She breathed a small sigh of relief and turned back around to begin bathing him.
It was going to be pure torture to have her hands upon him.
Picking up the soap, she walked over to the tub. Curan was struggling to maintain his expectant demeanor as well. She noticed his gaze returning to her in spite of him directing it away. The flush remained on his face, and when she leaned over to begin washing his feet, his dark gaze was full of heat. She felt her face turn scarlet, but it was not in shame, instead fueled by the growing need to have him to herself. She never looked at his feet, but washed them with her attention centered on his eyes.
“Remove your dress.”
“What?” Her voice was breathless and husky, betraying the passion licking along her insides.
One dark eyebrow lifted mockingly. “I told you to remove your dress, wife. It covers too much of you for my taste.”
Her gaze cut to the bedchamber and the maids taking far too long to dress the bed. Clearly the maids were intent on spying, but to order them to leave was to suggest that she and Curan had something to hide.
“Come now, wife. You should be used to my desire for your sweet flesh by now. I have demonstrated how much passion you evoke often enough.”
Curan raised his voice just enough to ensure that it carried into the next room, proving that he agreed with her thinking. Bridget bit into her lower lip to keep her thoughts unspoken. She moved up to his shoulders, rubbing the soap and cloth across the wide expanse of his back.
“That isn’t very kind.” She whispered her words near his ear, appearing as though she was intent on her task.
“Neither is the idea some members of this court have of trying to take you from me. If Wriothesley wants to hear what we are doing, I plan to make sure the tale is not a dull one.”
He turned his head so that their faces were a breath apart. His voice was low and edged with need. A shudder shook her, touching off a throbbing in her clitoris.
“I will also make sure those same villains hear how much you are truly my wife now.”
He reached up and grasped her, his hand cupping the back of her head and holding it still for a hard kiss. His kiss was demanding, but she met it because it was impossible to resist something she craved so much. Heat swirled through her belly, quickly and white-hot as his mouth demanded a deep taste from hers.
He chuckled a moment later, pulling his head away from hers just enough so that their eyes met.
“Out!”
His roar gained instant response; the maids scurried out of the bedchamber clearly having been listening. They inclined their heads on their way toward the door.
“Are you more pleased now, wife?”
Mischief sparkled in the dark orbs. He suddenly rose up and looped a wet arm around her body. She shrieked in surprise as he pulled her right into the tub. Water splashed up in a torrent. She sank down until her knees hit the bottom of the tub on either side of his hips. Her dress got caught on the surface of the water, slowly wicking it up before the wet fabric sank.
“Ah, exactly what I was craving, your thighs wrapped around me.”
He settled her on top of him, and she felt the unmistakable bulge of his cock between her open legs. Her stockings ended at her knees, leaving her bare thighs to connect with his. It was a true torment to feel him between her thighs. Need clawed at her, and he gripped her hips, increasing it because she recalled exactly how it felt to have his hands holding her hips while he rode her. The walls of her passage suddenly felt empty, too empty to worry about anyone who might be listening. The man was her husband, wasn’t he?
“Curan … they are no doubt standing outside the doors listening.”
She battled the urge to raise her voice.
“I do enjoy my name on your lips.”
His voice was deep now and sincere. But his hands lifted her up until his cock sprang up, no longer pressed against his belly by her.
“You cannot mean to—not while they are here.” It was a truth that most nobles did not care if servants were about. They did as they pleased, when they pleased. Most wedding consummations were witnessed as an added precaution against annulment. Gossip spread so quickly at court because nobles didn’t take the time to notice the staff.
“I assure you I do, and they can see nothing.” He lowered her down, the head of his cock easily slipping into the entrance of her body. Her own thoughts had prepared her for his entry; her passage was moist and welcomed
