Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
The sound of my teeth clacking together rattled in my brain, I shut my mouth so fast.
“When I climax, I produce seed—” he went on.
“I know, I know, I know,” I interrupted him, waving a hand his way.
“Do you?” he asked. “Do you know that happens when I orgasm?”
Orgasm?
Oh…
Balls.
This was mortifying.
More, it was horrifying.
My husband had been seeing to me.
But I had not been seeing to my husband.
Good gods.
I knew he grew hard.
And I knew what came of that.
And I had an idea of how babies were made, his parts, my parts, what went where.
I just did not know, until he made it happen, that I could climax.
So I did not know that he could…
Gods.
But of course, he could. He’d even mentioned how difficult he found it, sleeping next to me night after night without “release.”
That was what he meant by “release.”
I just did not put it together.
I did not think.
And now that I was thinking, what I thought was I needed to get out of that room.
I sought to do this immediately.
I ran in the opposite direction of Mars.
I did not even make it to the door.
Both his arms closed around me, I was pulled back and held fitted against his frame.
I also had his mouth at my ear.
I closed my eyes tight.
And again felt the room.
Not aflame this time.
It was in inferno.
“By the fucking gods, those two should have every joint disconnected with how they raised you.”
I opened my eyes and stared, unseeing.
What?
“Your mother did not tell you of this?” he rumbled.
“N-no,” I stammered.
“She was with you, on your journey to Firenze, for weeks, and in my palace, for days, knowing you were to wed me imminently, and she did not sit down with you in all that time and share this?” he demanded.
“No, Mars,” I whispered.
“By the fucking gods,” he growled on a fierce squeeze.
“Mars, you…you’re holding on too tight.”
He relaxed his grasp.
Slightly.
“I do not want that maid,” he kept growling.
“All right.”
“I want my wife.”
“All right,” I continued whispering.
“I was giving you time to get used to me and our play, waiting for you to give indication you were ready to take it further, something you did not do.”
Oh balls.
“Because, apparently, not only didn’t you fucking know how,” he went on, “but because you also didn’t know there was anything further to do.”
I did not confirm what he’d already discovered.
I noted, “I-I’m sure this is not the easiest thing to discuss with your child.”
“We will be open and honest about the pleasures of the flesh with our children, Silence. They will know of it, they will know to expect to enjoy it, both sexes, and they will not be ashamed of it.”
“All right,” I repeated.
“And incidentally, you are not a child. You’re an adult. One who, those weeks ago, would imminently be wed.”
I could not argue that.
“Are you taking pennyrium?” he asked abruptly.
“Pennyrium?” I asked in return, stupidly.
He turned me in his arms but instantly imprisoned me in them again with my body held cinched to his.
“Pennyrium is a draught you can take—” he began to explain with reined impatience.
“I know what it is, Mars, I just…” Gods, I was daft. “There was no reason to take it.”
And there wasn’t, not because we weren’t having sex, but because I hadn’t thought of it, for I’d never had to before (pennyrium being the draught a woman took daily which (I had heard) was very good at guarding against pregnancy).
“Prior to sacking her, we’ll ask that maid to procure some so you can begin taking it immediately,” he declared.
I did not wish to be this type of person.
But she was the type of person who flirted with a woman’s husband.
So I did not have very many qualms in making this the last (and one of the only) chores Pegeen did before she was on her way.
However…
“But don’t you want a child?” I queried.
“Yes, I want several, but first, I want time to enjoy my wife, and also, if this Beast ever rises, I do not want her pregnant when we fight it.”
“Oh, right,” I mumbled.
He jostled me. “Silence.”
My gaze had fallen to his throat, so I lifted it to his face.
“The salute of the Trusted Ones, do you remember it?” he asked.
I was confused.
“The salute of the Trusted?”
“When you met my men and they pressed your hand to their heart and their stomach,” he explained.
I nodded. “Yes, I remember.”
“I ordered that salute altered when the men gave it to you.”
When he went no further, I asked, “Altered?”
“With another woman, or a man, in that instance, they would have had their hands pressed to my men’s hearts, and their cocks.”
“Oh,” I breathed.
“Yes,” he replied. “In other words, Silence, I do not want your hand anywhere near another man’s cock.”
Oh my.
“All right,” I said quietly.
“You are exceedingly responsive during bedplay.”
I pressed my lips together as my eyes got big.