Page 22 of Brutal Serpent

“Keep it inside,” I admonished, lying down beside her.

Catherine said nothing, turning her face away from me.

“I want you with child as soon as possible,” I continued. “I don’t want to deal with your father begging for any part of what will be my lands.”

I lay down beside her, leaving my breeches on the foot of the bed.

“Keep your nightgown up,” I ordered her, yanking my new wife back against my chest. “I might wake up and want to breed you again.”

“Again? You already did it twice,” Catherine said tremulously, and I could feel the little fluttering of her heart, her breath coming in little gasps.

I felt drowsy and content with my plan going so easily. The Wendover family could not escape now.

“I will want to do it again. And you will open your cunt to me, whenever I desire it.”

Half-asleep, I put one hand loosely around her throat, my fingers spanning the creamy skin, just for the pleasure of feeling the fluttering of her heart against my palm, the panting of her breath on my fingers.

Of course, when we reached Rosewood Manor we would naturally be sleeping in separate rooms except for when it was necessary to breed her.

She stiffened and squeaked, but I growled in her ear.

“Shh, wife. I want to enjoy your submission.”

I fell asleep quickly, my arm tightly around my new Viscountess, my hand on her throat. Keeping her from running away from me again.

She’s mine to torment now.

CHAPTER 12

Catherine

Iwas awakened early by the servants drawing the curtains and I took the opportunity to scuttle hastily out of bed and call for a maid to help me get dressed.

I didn’t look back at my husband, but I could feel his gaze on me, an uncomfortable rake across the nape of my neck.

We had breakfast at the inn, and I felt rumpled and irritated. My entire body ached. The skin on my back and arms and legs felt sore and scratched from lying in the hay. My face felt itchy. My hips ached from where my husband had gripped them tightly to force himself in me over and over. And worst of all was the place between my legs, throbbing in pulse points, on fire with a strange heat.

I didn’t look at my husband as I sipped the strong hot tea, but I heard him whistling what sounded like a popular opera song. I wondered angrily if he had an opera singer mistress like many in the Ton did, and, if so, why he didn’t go botherherinstead of me.

“What an instructive night,” my husband said languidly, as I nibbled on a piece of toast. “I hope you won’t be the kind of wife who needs continual discipline. Though it would certainly save the servants work to never have to pour you a hot bath.”

I said nothing, refusing to look at him.

“What I want,” St. Erth went on, his voice light with malice now, “is a docile and submissive wife who won’t bother me when I’m busy with matters on my estate.”

I fixed my eyes on an elderly couple at a different table poring over a map together. I could hear the word “Bath” bandied back and forth between them. They must be going to the seaside resort town. I had never been and always wanted to go.

I reflected bitterly that I would be in a much better position if I managed to stow away in their carriage and then begged them to take me on as a scullery maid when they got to Bath.

“Look at me,” St. Erth ordered, his voice suddenly sharp and hard.

I had seen enough to him to obey reluctantly, and that golden, cruel smile spread over his face.

“That’s better,” he said. “Now, Viscountess, we will be arriving at my country estate tonight. And why did I marry you and bring you to my home?”

For a moment I wanted to return a saucy answer, but I looked at my husband’s long limbs stretched out and I was afraid.

“To bear your children,” I said quietly.

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