“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 the hard thrust of his flesh.

She shivered, caught between mortification and excitement. The maids couldn’t see anything, but they knew that she was seated on his cock. The act was darkly erotic, and the look of possession in his eyes doubled her excitement. She bit back a soft exclamation of delight as he filled her. Curan pressed a kiss against her lips, gently coaxing her lips to part.

“I want him to hear how you whimper while I’m inside you. I want to know that they will tell him that you enjoy being my wife.” He braced his feet on the bottom of the tub and gripped her hips tighter. His eyes glowed with need, and it was more than physical. Love shimmered in his eyes, a love that would not let modesty prevent him from doing what he thought best in order to keep her.

“Your dress covers you, Bridget, and the door is shut. That is the most privacy anyone has at court.”

He whispered against her neck, and she lost the will to deny him. She angled her head and bit him gently on the side of his throat.

“Ride me, wife.” Curan raised his voice so that it filled the chamber. “Hold on tight or I shall throw you!”

Her heart was already accelerating, sending her blood surging through her veins. Curan did not wait but lifted her off his length and thrust back up into her almost in the same motion. The water swished back and forth, getting closer to the rim of the tub, but that did not stop him. His next thrust was hard and faster. A whimper rose from her throat as delight filled her. His cock was sliding along her clitoris and producing too much pleasure to ignore. Her hips curled toward his next penetration, and there was nothing her thoughts might do to prevent it. She was responding out of instinct. Need fueling her actions while pleasure took command of her.

Curan pulled her close, so that she was pressed tightly against his chest. The position increased the amount of friction each thrust applied to her clitoris, drawing another cry from her lips. She shivered violently, taking control of raising herself up and pushing her body back down as well.

“That’s it, my sweet.”

The water was sloshing onto the floor, and she did not care. The wool of her dress was wet and scratchy against her skin, but his body was warm and smooth between her thighs. She clasped him tighter, rising and falling faster. His hands gripped her firmly, and she heard his breathing growing husky. His cock felt harder and larger with each downward plunge.

“Look at me, Bridget.”

His voice was raspy and low. She raised her eyes to stare into his, instantly hypnotized by the burning desire she witnessed there.

“You are mine.”

He surged up into her with his words, pushing harder while his hands tightened. His motions became frantic, but he clenched his jaw, holding back his own release while watching her face.

She couldn’t hold back the pleasure any longer; a harsh cry hit the ceiling as joy ripped through her. Curan continued to thrust in short, hard motions until she felt his seed erupting inside her. It was hot and touched off another little explosion of pleasure deep inside her belly. Her thighs clamped harder around his hips in an effort to keep his offering deep inside her. It was pure instinct, like the impulse to curl her hips toward him when he was thrusting into her. Little things that she had never known she craved until Curan touched her.

He clasped her tightly against him, his hands smoothing over her back while the water became placid once more. Bridget wasn’t interested in moving; she felt more content than ever with his scent filling her senses and his warm skin against her cheek.

In the next instant movement caught her attention, and her husband jerked as the two maids appeared and dropped a curtsy before departing.

“That should reach the chancellor’s ears before you finish stripping off your wet clothing.”

“Curan.”

She slapped at his chest but misjudged where the water level was and ended up hitting its surface. Water splashed up into his face, earning her a mocking grin.

“I admit that I enjoyed that part of making my case quite a bit.”

She gasped and tried to climb off him. Her wet dress made it nearly impossible to rise, the water-soaked fabric weighing quite a bit more than she was accustomed to. “You speak shamefully. It will serve you right if a bishop arrives to have you taken to the stocks for an hour of shame.”

He hooked her beneath her arms and lifted her out of the tub. Water rained down on the stone floor tiles, filling the chamber with the sound of rain when there was none.

“I speak the hard truth needed to end this dishonorable business.”

He reached for the toweling and began drying himself. “It is time I sought out your father. There are words we need to have with each other.”

“I agree.”

His hands froze, and he looked up to meet her eyes. Tenderness was shining in his eyes, by far the most beautiful sight she had ever beheld. He reached out and curled an arm around her waist. She wasn’t sure if he moved to her or if he pulled her against his body. Truly she did not care. All that mattered was the kiss he pressed against her lips. Soft and full of tender emotions, the caress was sweet, too sweet for words.

“You do not know how much I enjoy hearing such words from your lips, Bridget. I feel as though I have longed for them for two lifetimes.”

The approach of the chancellor was heard before a hand pounded on the door. Curan’s body tensed, and in a flash Bridget was behind him. The men escorting Wriothesley did not wait for permission to open the door. A quick pounding preceded both doors being yanked open so fast the iron hinges groaned.

“Unhand her at once, Lord Ryppon.”

Chancellor Wriothesley strode forward without hesitation. Another man strode close on his heels, who could be no other but Lord Oswald. The chancellor was richly dressed with a large coat sewn with a wide fur collar. His chain of office was tied carefully in place at each shoulder so that the medallion with St. George slaying the dragon hung directly over his heart. The man aimed a narrow-eyed look at Curan, raking over him and even stopping at his cock for a moment.