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“Every person alive pines for love, Phillipa. What else is there? Land? Power? Without love, such things are meaningless.”

Her brows drew together. “You would not do well at court.”

“No,” he agreed, ignoring her prompting. “I would not.”

It struck her that, if there were a man most unlike her father in this world, it was her husband.

“When you smile, I can almost believe we are husband and wife in truth. I like your smile, Phillipa.”

What precisely did that mean? That they would not consummate their marriage yet? Was that not why they lay in this bed? Again, she jerked her hips upward, but he ignored her. So Phillipa took her hand, placed it on his arm, and moved it downward, prompting him.

“When you wish to say something, do so.”

That again. “I can not.”

“Aye, you can.”

Phillipa didn’t have the words. She shook her head. In response, Haydn’s hand stilled.

Ahhh. She could not take such torture any longer. “Touch me. Like you did before.”

He did. Haydn was less gentle this time too. His fingers plunged into her, his palm cupping her still. Phillipa closed her eyes, knowing this time what was to come. As before, she moved with the rhythm of his hand. Faster and faster still. And then. . . he was gone.

Her eyes flew open. And in that brief span, her husband had moved lightning fast. No longer beside her, he was above her now. Guiding himself into her. She was too surprised to know what to say. What to do. Surely it would not fit. Surely, this would hurt.

“You know when I break your barrier, there will be pain?”

She nodded. “Aye.” The sensation of him inside her was a very different one than his fingers. She thought, perhaps, it would be the same.

“But then there will be no pain. I promise, Phillipa.”

She braced herself for it. And just like that, she was no longer a virgin. He’d thrusted, past her barrier, and then stilled, buried inside her. Phillipa’s eyes were squeezed shut. Her fingers dug into his arms. Or attempted to, at least. It was like gripping the steel of a sword, if less sharp than still smooth and hard.

“Does it still hurt?”

Opening her eyes, she nearly gasped. Gone was the mistrust. The anger. The reticence. Her husband’s expression was of genuine concern. Caring even.

“Nay, it does not.”

His features relaxed. Became more guarded once again. And then, he began to move. Slowly, at first.

His hand reached between them.

“Why do you do that?” she said as he pressed and circled her with his fingers. The dual sensation made her forget the question. Not care about the answer. Soon she was moving with him to a rhythm she never knew existed.

Phillipa allowed her hands to explore then. She ran them over his shoulders, felt the muscles there as they flexed with each and every thrust. When he pulled his hand away and leaned down to kiss her, Phillipa welcomed the touch. Wanted to feel his lips again. Reveled in the touch of his tongue to hers.

This time when she began to tense, when her buttocks clenched, she knew what was coming. Allowing it, allowing him, opened a door she could not close. As spasms wracked her, his kiss deepening, Phillipa pulled her husband close. The touch of his chest to hers only helped to intensify wave after wave.

Haydn tore his mouth from hers, tossed his head back and made the kind of sound that made Phillipa wish they were just starting rather than ending. She had never, in her life, witnessed such virility before. He pumped into her one last time, his eyes settling on her.

Phillipa could not look away. She had no real notion of what, truly, had just happened between them. But she did know one thing for certain.

“I wish to do that again.”

Chapter Seventeen

It had been two days since that night.