each of her nerves to its limit.
Pain slipped into pleasure and bliss exploded into ecstasy. Tearing her lips from his, she cried out.
With a final thrust, he pulsed inside her and moaned her name. Benjamin fell beside her, his chest slick with sweat, his breath coming in short little pants. “I never…”
Juliet placed her finger over his lips, silencing his words. There were none to describe what had transpired between them, and none to express the spasm of emotions that had erupted from her very core.
Her world had shifted. Her entire body shook with the enormity of what she had done, of the intimacies she had shared with a man she not only desired, but needed.
She wanted nothing more than to curl beside him, to run her fingers over every chiseled line and indented muscle. She yearned to repeat their sensual act or, at the very least, lay beside him, with his arm wrapped around her waist…and yet, a deal was a deal.
Their union was binding. Once again, her husband had done as she had asked.
And once again, she had a debt to repay, which she would in one week’s time. Juliet would be there to whelp Artemis’s pups. And then depart for Evenrood first thing after. Benjamin deserved his solitude. He had earned it. Every last minute.
…
Juliet woke to a wet tongue on her face.
Lifting one lid open, she peered at Cleo, who, with a wagging tail and a sloppy, wet tongue, set out to remind Juliet it was morning. And time to be fed.
“Fine. I’m awake. Is that what you want?” Juliet rubbed behind the hound’s ears. Cleo whined and proceeded to douse Juliet with a morning’s worth of spittle.
Gently shoving the dog to the side, Juliet sat up and glanced down at her rumpled shift. Heat flooded her face as she recalled precisely what she had done whilst wearing Mrs. Ancell’s neat and tidy stitches.
Her marriage was now consummated. The soreness between her thighs was testament to the fact.
Funny how she hadn’t noticed any physical discomfort when she had left Benjamin’s bed. Desire, hot and thick, engulfed her each time his hand had slipped over her body, pulling her in tight against his side. All pain was absent whilst in his presence, his bristly jaw and soft lips replacing any discomfort with pleasure.
She reveled in his caresses, in the heady rush of excitement and joy he brought with his nearness. But a deal was a deal, and he had filled his end. His solitude was well earned and she would do her best to respect his wishes to be left alone…even if she was loathe to admit how long she’d toyed with the idea of staying in his room.
Thus, why she was in her bed on the morning after their wedding and not in his.
Juliet pulled a pair of wool stockings out of her wardrobe drawer and tugged them over her numb toes. The coarse knit was hardly fitting for a viscountess, but it was warm enough for a married hound breeder set on nurturing a new line of pointers.
Cleo’s ears perked. A low growl rumbled in her throat, providing enough warning for Juliet to pull a blanket over her lap before the lock rattled with the insertion of a key.
“Mrs. Ancell?”
Only the elderly housekeeper had access to the room keys, but it was not customary for her to use the main entrance. Had she wanted to tend to Juliet, she would have made use of the servant door, if she suspected Juliet of being here at all. Perhaps she thought the viscount had come to claim her here?
A final rattle of the lock and the door was thrown open, with Frederick, in a rumpled shirt and breeches, standing on her threshold.
Juliet yanked the blanket to her chest, her face heating. “Frederick? What are you doing here? And how did you come to be in possession of the household keys?”
He sauntered in, a smug smile set on his thin lips. “I am the future baron, Juliet. I have access to the machinations of the house.”
“The current baron does not even have access to those keys,” she said. Her fingers clenched around the soft fibers of
Pain slipped into pleasure and bliss exploded into ecstasy. Tearing her lips from his, she cried out.
With a final thrust, he pulsed inside her and moaned her name. Benjamin fell beside her, his chest slick with sweat, his breath coming in short little pants. “I never…”
Juliet placed her finger over his lips, silencing his words. There were none to describe what had transpired between them, and none to express the spasm of emotions that had erupted from her very core.
Her world had shifted. Her entire body shook with the enormity of what she had done, of the intimacies she had shared with a man she not only desired, but needed.
She wanted nothing more than to curl beside him, to run her fingers over every chiseled line and indented muscle. She yearned to repeat their sensual act or, at the very least, lay beside him, with his arm wrapped around her waist…and yet, a deal was a deal.
Their union was binding. Once again, her husband had done as she had asked.
And once again, she had a debt to repay, which she would in one week’s time. Juliet would be there to whelp Artemis’s pups. And then depart for Evenrood first thing after. Benjamin deserved his solitude. He had earned it. Every last minute.
…
Juliet woke to a wet tongue on her face.
Lifting one lid open, she peered at Cleo, who, with a wagging tail and a sloppy, wet tongue, set out to remind Juliet it was morning. And time to be fed.
“Fine. I’m awake. Is that what you want?” Juliet rubbed behind the hound’s ears. Cleo whined and proceeded to douse Juliet with a morning’s worth of spittle.
Gently shoving the dog to the side, Juliet sat up and glanced down at her rumpled shift. Heat flooded her face as she recalled precisely what she had done whilst wearing Mrs. Ancell’s neat and tidy stitches.
Her marriage was now consummated. The soreness between her thighs was testament to the fact.
Funny how she hadn’t noticed any physical discomfort when she had left Benjamin’s bed. Desire, hot and thick, engulfed her each time his hand had slipped over her body, pulling her in tight against his side. All pain was absent whilst in his presence, his bristly jaw and soft lips replacing any discomfort with pleasure.
She reveled in his caresses, in the heady rush of excitement and joy he brought with his nearness. But a deal was a deal, and he had filled his end. His solitude was well earned and she would do her best to respect his wishes to be left alone…even if she was loathe to admit how long she’d toyed with the idea of staying in his room.
Thus, why she was in her bed on the morning after their wedding and not in his.
Juliet pulled a pair of wool stockings out of her wardrobe drawer and tugged them over her numb toes. The coarse knit was hardly fitting for a viscountess, but it was warm enough for a married hound breeder set on nurturing a new line of pointers.
Cleo’s ears perked. A low growl rumbled in her throat, providing enough warning for Juliet to pull a blanket over her lap before the lock rattled with the insertion of a key.
“Mrs. Ancell?”
Only the elderly housekeeper had access to the room keys, but it was not customary for her to use the main entrance. Had she wanted to tend to Juliet, she would have made use of the servant door, if she suspected Juliet of being here at all. Perhaps she thought the viscount had come to claim her here?
A final rattle of the lock and the door was thrown open, with Frederick, in a rumpled shirt and breeches, standing on her threshold.
Juliet yanked the blanket to her chest, her face heating. “Frederick? What are you doing here? And how did you come to be in possession of the household keys?”
He sauntered in, a smug smile set on his thin lips. “I am the future baron, Juliet. I have access to the machinations of the house.”
“The current baron does not even have access to those keys,” she said. Her fingers clenched around the soft fibers of
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