Page 107 of Last of His Blood
“What were you talking about?” It seemed rude not to ask, but she didn’t expect more than a vague answer. Ophele went to fetch a heavy earthenware crock from the hearth, where mutton and potatoes had been warming.
“Planning the spring planting,” he answered. There were distant thumps as he shed his boots. “We’ve a great deal more people to feed than we anticipated. We can order additional supplies, but I’d like us to be self-sufficient as soon as possible…”
It was so comforting to hear his voice moving from dressing room to bath chamber and back again, washing up after the long day and hunting for his plainest and most comfortable robe. Ophele knew without looking that his dressing room would be a shambles by the time he was done, which was just the way Magne liked it. The valet enjoyed nothing more than wagging his head and clicking his tongue as he restored order to the world, and Remin was just the man to disarrange it for him.
“What did you do today?” Remin asked, sitting down to devour his snack in huge mouthfuls, washed down with warm wine.
“I had lessons with Master Forgess this afternoon. He said if I wanted more anatomy, then we would have to go to the To…Tower.” Ophele could have bitten her tongue. She wasn’t supposed to bring that up untilafter.“And we talked about the cataloguing of beasts, and how the connections between them are much clearer in the Empire than elsewhere…”
Fortunately, Remin was dividing his attention between her and his food, and his mouth was too full for any substantial response. Ophele babbled on, wondering when she ought to spring her surprise on him and feeling as if butterflies were battering wildly at her insides. Once he had settled in his chair by the fire, she took a sip of wine, made a face, and then went to confront him.
“I also…got new clothes from Master Tiffen today,” she began, coming to a stop before him. Her fingers fiddled with the sash of her robe.
“I like them,” Remin said immediately. “The robe?”
“Yes, and…” Ophele looked down, heat rising in her cheeks, and tugged her sash free.
The robe parted.
There was lace.
There wasonlylace.
She had hardly dared to look at herself in the scandalous thing, and she had certainly not allowed anyone else to see her. The lace nightgown ruffled apart over her thighs to expose her slender legs and wrapped tight around her middle, plunging between her breasts to reveal their inner curves. The darker pink of her nipples was clearly visible through the sheer lace. It was worse than being naked.
Remin’s mouth fell open.
“Mionet said ladies in the capital wear such things,” Ophele managed, feeling heat blaze to her forehead. “For their husbands, as a, a surprise…”
“Let me see,” he said thickly. There was a strange, heated glow in his black eyes as he drew her between his knees.
“I thought you would like it,” she breathed, flushing as she saw the evidence of exactly howmuchhe liked it. His hands smoothed over her body, tracing the curves of her hips, watching the lace shift over her skin. The nightgown parted shamefully, long cuts over her thighs that slid open to expose smooth, silky skin.
“I do,” Remin whispered. His palms slid up the backs of her thighs to squeeze her backside. “I do like it. Tiffen made this? He knew it was for you?”
“Yes? He took my measurem—mmph!” Ophele squealed as he snatched her up and headed for the bed, his hands wrapping her thighs tight around his hips, his mouth crushing hers in a hungry kiss. The quick, hard grind of his body against hers made her gasp as he flung her onto the bed.
“He shouldn’t see you like this.” Remin’s tall shadow stretched over her, his breath harsh. He wasn’t angry. That was something else entirely in his face. “You’remywife.”
“Yes,” Ophele agreed breathlessly. Her chin tipped back as he climbed above her with a muscular grace that made her heartstutter, sliding her arms over her head and pinning her wrists with one hand.
“Look at you,” he rasped. “Don’t move.”
Just the weight of his eyes made her nipples tighten. Ophele’s chest hitched as he cupped her breast, watching the lace move over her soft curves. And then he bent to close his mouth over one pink peak, his tongue moving in a lewd red roil that made her mind haze. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, she was so excited it was almost painful.
Lower. He kissed her navel. Traced the gentle swell of her hips. His hands stroked her curves, sliding her legs apart, his stubble rasping as he nipped the inside of her knees. And then they both went still as he slowly slid the lace upward, so it framed the naked space between her thighs.
Remin’s eyes lifted to hers.
“Miche told me something once,” he began. “I thought he was lying…”
He licked his lips, clearly uncertain at the prospect. But then he bent his head again, pressed her thighs apart, andlicked her between her legs.
Ophele’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head.
“B-but we can’t,” she gasped, feeling certain that somehow this must be against the law.
“Who says?” he asked, excitement purring through his voice. He licked again, his dark eyes riveted on her face. “Do you like it, wife?”
