Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
She grinned. “See that, I’m pleasing you already.”
“You will please me often, wife,” he said without a hint of a smile.
Raven had learned well to mask her feelings.
Let the mask slip and you become vulnerable.
She let the old man’s, who’d once led their band of misfits, words linger in her head. She missed him every day and wished she had had more time with him, but he had taught her more about life and how to survive it in the few years she had spent with him than anyone else, including her family.
She stood and began to remove her garments. “But will you please me, husband?”
She had to turn her head when she caught the tic appear once again at the corner of his eye, another of her barb’s striking its mark. She didn’t want him to see her gloat. She was actually relieved with the banter they shared. It allowed her to focus on anything but what she was about to do—couple with the Beast.
Her stomach churned and she had to focus hard so that her hands wouldn’t tremble as she unwrapped her plaid. She had to keep her mask in place, not let him see how anxious she was about coupling with him. She certainly wasn’t ignorant of the act, though she had no experience herself. After catching a man trying to force himself on her, and seeing the culprit meet his maker, the old man had ordered his band of thieves to teach her everything.
His words rang again in her head. You’ll know how to defend and kill like a man.
He had kept his word and then some. She silently admonished herself for not keeping her mind clear, especially when she turned and saw that her husband was nearly naked. But her mask was firmly in place and she displayed not a trace of surprise.
She turned to let her plaid fall away and stood only in her shirt, the coarse linen falling to the middle of her thigh. That was as far as she would go. There was no need to stand completely naked in front of him or even do so to couple. She turned back and saw that he thought differently, since he stood naked, not a stitch of clothing on him.
His eyes not only intimidated, his honed body did as well. There wasn’t an ounce of flab on him. He was pure muscle. He was lean yet not thin, but not huge like her brother Royden. It was as if a master craftsman had chiseled him to perfection and the way he stood, commanding and confident, only added to his appeal. She was, however, surprised and somewhat relieved, to see that his shaft lay flaccid against him. And even though limp, it was sizeable.
Thanks to her crew, though more to the old man since he’d insisted she listen when the men laughed, boasted, or poked fun of their conquest of women, she knew more than she would have preferred to know about coupling. But the old man had told her that she’d be wise to know the true nature of men and, like always, he’d been right.
That her husband wasn’t aroused meant he didn’t find her appealing, though she was aware that a man didn’t have to find a woman appealing to poke her. It was more a need, an ache and evidently he didn’t have either.
A shiver of relief ran through her and she took a closer step to the hearth to warm herself. His dark eyes followed her every moment with such chilling intensity that the heat from the flames did little to warm her. She wanted to turn away from him, not look at him and certainly not feel as if he was laying claim to her with his eyes alone. And if his eyes could shiver her senseless, how would his hands feel upon her or his shaft feel inside her?
The only way to get through coupling with him was to get it done and over. Her stomach churned at the thought and to delay any longer just might see her losing her supper, an embarrassing thought.
“Let’s get this done,” she said and his strong command stopped her before she took one step.
“NO! I will not touch you until I know you have had your monthly bleed.”
His words not only shocked her, but relieved her, her stomach instantly calming. Then his reasoning dawned on her. “You want to make sure I don’t carry another man’s bairn.”
“You shelter with thieves, live the life of a thief, behave like a thief,” he accused.
“So you assume I’ve spread my legs willingly for any man,” she said what he had implied.
“The life you have lived tells me this.”
“And how many women have you poked willingly and unwillingly?” she demanded.
“I have no need or want of an unwilling woman.”