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I slip out of her after a moment, feeling the flood of my cum as I pull free, and roll onto my back next to her. I feel her go very still, as if she’s not sure what to do now, and I reach for her, pulling her closer. “You can lay here with me, lass,” I tell her, a little gruffly, because Iwantthe warmth of her body still pressed against mine. I’ve always been one to want a foot of space between me and the woman I just fucked, if I didn’t send them away immediately. “Or you can have your space, if you like.”
Marika says nothing. But she stays there in the circle of my arm, and after a long moment, I feel her breathing even out.
For the first time, I pass the night with a woman that I want to stay the night in my bed.
—
I’d told the staff to make sure there was breakfast brought up for us in the morning, and they do exactly as I asked. There’s a rap on the wooden door at nine a.m., exactly when I’d requested it. I open my eyes blearily, unable to remember the last time that I slept in this late—or this well, to be honest.
Next to me, Marika rolled over on her side sometime during the night, her blonde hair tangled around her face as she sleeps curled in a ball. I watch her for a moment, enjoying the sight of her relaxed and sleeping, before I throw the covers back and reach for a pair of joggers to slip on and fetch our breakfast.
The sound of the door opening and the breakfast cart rolling in must have woken her, because when I turn around, I see her slowly sitting up, holding the sheet to her chest as she pushes her hair out of her face. “Breakfast in bed?” she asks curiously, and I give her a smile, walking to her side to kiss her forehead lightly.
“Only the best for my new bride,” I tell her. “Although I can’t promise this every day. Most days, I’m up and gone much earlier than this. You’ll always be able to get breakfast served to you downstairs, though. Alison—the cook—is excellent, and I have a full staff here. You’ll never want for anything.”
Marika nods slowly, as if she’s still waking up and taking it all in. She’s accustomed to all of this, I know—she’s grown up with staff and these sorts of luxuries all her life—but this isn’t her home. I want her to feel comfortable here, to be able to begin thinking of it that way.
“Will it get cold if I shower?” she asks, glancing at the food. “I’m sorry, I’d just really like to clean up—”
A small jolt of a strange emotion goes through me at the idea that she might want to clean me off of her. “It will be fine,” I tell her firmly. “Go take a shower first, if that’s what you like.” I walk to the huge closet, opening the double doors, and finding a robe inside. “Here.” I hold it out to her, in case she doesn’t want to walk to the bathroom entirely bare.
Marika gives me a small, grateful smile as she reaches for the robe, wrapping it around herself as she pushes the blankets back. As much as I would have liked to see my new bride naked in the daylight, I can understand her modesty. This is all new to her—and I don’t want to frighten her.
“The bathroom is through there.” I motion to the doors at the other side of our bedroom suite. “There’s toiletries in there already. After today, you’ll have a card with access to funds, so you can get anything specific that you might need or want. There’s no limit to the funds,” I add, and Marika swallows, giving me another small smile.
“I’m not here to spend all your money, Theo,” she says, in an odd sort of voice that makes me think she’s almost irritated by the idea. “But I don’t have access to the card my brother gave me anymore, of course, so I appreciate it.”
It occurs to me, then, where the irritation might have come from, as she walks away. I’ve had money of my own all my life, accounts signed over to me after my father’s death, and my inheritance before that when I turned eighteen. I’ve never had to rely on funds that I was only allowed to access at someone else’s pleasure. But for Marika, that’s been her whole life, I realize. Her only money would have come from what her father allowed her, then her brother, and now me—funds that could be cut off at any time, if she displeased the person allowing it.
It makes me feel vaguely uncomfortable, realizing that for the first time. It’s the way our world is—it’s never bothered me before. It’s truly never occurred to me that that’s howallof these women live, beholden financially to men who may or may not have their best interests at heart.
I like to think that I have Marika’s interests in mind. And I want her to be happy with me. I want her to feel like mywife, not like a possession. And if I can trust her—
Give it time,I tell myself. I’m starting to feel like a besotted teenager who got laid for the first time, not a forty-three-year-old man with a list of sexual conquests longer than I am tall.
But I’ve never found myself caring about a woman before.
When Marika comes out, still wrapped in the robe with her blonde hair lying damply over one shoulder, I feel a throb of desire all over again. There’s no reason why I couldn’t take her to bed again right now—except that she needs to eat, and we have things to talk about that can’t be discussed with my cock buried inside of her.
It might be worth trying, though,I think wryly as she bends down to scoop some food onto a plate, and I see the neckline of the robe fall open a little, giving me a glimpse of the curve of one breast.
She sits down at the desk on the other side of the room, the china plate and a glass of orange juice in front of her. The staff sent champagne up with breakfast, but I noticed she didn’t touch it.
“So,” she says quietly. “I suppose you’ll be sending the sheets to Nikolai this morning.”
I hadn’t even thought to check them. I glance at the bed, seeing the telltale stains of red on the white fabric. The thought of sending the blood-and-cum stained sheets to her brother makes me feel faintly ill, even if it is tradition.
“There’s no need,” I tell her crisply, and I see her face soften in surprise. “I’m sure your brother trusts you, as I do. I dislike that particular tradition—I see no reason to carry it forward with my marriage.”
Her eyes widen at that, and she nods after a moment, biting her lower lip. The sight makes me want to kiss her, just so I can feel that soft, full lip against my mouth again. “Thank you,” she says finally. “I dislike that tradition, too.”
“Well then.” I smile at her. “See? We’re already in agreement on something. A good start to a marriage.”
I was hoping for humor, and I see her mouth twitch a little, though I don’t get a laugh. I finish my own food, setting the plate back on the cart, and glance over at her. “I can have your things brought here today, if you like. Or—”
“I’d like to go home and get them,” she interrupts. “And possibly go and see my brother and Lilliana, if that’s alright. I’d feel—better.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” I assure her. “I’ll have a driver take you. Especially since I’m taking you on a trip—it may be a little while before you’re able to visit again, and I’m told you’re used to seeing your brother and sister-in-law at least weekly.”
