The Royal Wedding Night (Royal Discipline Book 2) Page 5

  “Ahh.” He let out a satisfied sigh as he came to rest atop her. “How I love being married to you.”

  But do you love me? He called her his love during nearly every conversation. He called her darling and dearest. When their betrothal was set, he’d confessed to loving her before she even knew who he was. But she wanted more than courtly, romantic language. She wanted his love to feel as full inside her as...as...

  He withdrew from her and rolled to the side, gathering her close. “What did you think of that, Violet? Do you enjoy coupling more now that you know what it’s about?”

  “I enjoy it much more. Thank you for explaining everything. And for showing me the particulars,” she added with a grin. “It’s very illuminating, the things I’m learning.”

  “I told you there’d be plenty of time for pleasure once we were wed.”

  He’d also told her that her body would belong to him, and she did feel like his possession, especially with the way he clasped her to his chest. “I’m enjoying marriage so far,” she said.

  He laughed at that. “So far? I see you’re hedging your bets.” He sobered and stroked a hand across her shoulder, then reached to tilt up her chin. “I’ve not the first worry about the two of us. Everything is settling into place.”

  Hmm. Violet wouldn’t say she felt very settled around her new husband, but then, she’d never been one for a settled life.

  Chapter Five: Home

  At high noon, the esteemed Duke of Thornton—having “performed” to a suitable standard—was crowned as the princess’s official royal consort with all the pomp and ritual such a ceremony required.

  Her father presided over the formalities, which was just as well, because Violet probably would have flubbed around horribly in any public interaction with her husband. It wasn’t only that so many of those in attendance had witnessed their wedding night intimacies. It was that the morning’s revelries were still vivid in her memory. Her whole body tightened at the sight of her husband in his regal crown and robes, and arousal bloomed shamefully each time he cast her a glance.

  Many of the ladies had eyes for him too. Gossip of his bedroom prowess had spread to every corner of the palace after their publicly witnessed wedding night. The duke had earned those blushes and stares with his excellent performance.

  She found herself doing a fair amount of blushing herself, especially when her father came to the part of the ceremony where he beseeched the new consort to “thrust upon the kingdom the mantle of his solemn protection.” She supposed he was expected to protect her, the princess and future queen. He’d certainly thrust upon her this morning, but she mustn’t dwell on that now.

  After the ceremony, many of the visiting aristocrats took their leave. Violet and Thomas stayed to dine with those who remained. Exhaustion flitted across her father’s features now and again, and she thought, one day his duties will be mine to carry out. Her papa was so skilled at currying friendships and solving disagreements between feuding families. No wonder he’d been aghast at her previous temperament. The old Princess Violet could never have managed a position of responsibility. The new one would do well enough, with her royal consort at her side.

  But that was years in the future. For now, she was returning to Thornton Manor with her husband and a retinue of royal guards. She knew her lessons on propriety, manners, and statecraft would continue, and she would submit herself to those lessons for the greater good of the kingdom, so she might reign with as much skill and integrity as her father one day.

  And then there would be the rest... What would it be like, to live with him as his wife?

  Thomas rode his stallion on the two-hour journey to Thornton Manor, while Violet traveled in the carriage with Jeannie. The former chambermaid had been promoted to “Lady’s Attendant of the Royal Chamber,” a position of great honor, requiring faultless discretion. Jeannie had proven herself trustworthy during Violet’s previous stay at the Manor, and was conveniently aware of the history between her and the duke.

  Not the duke. Thomas.

  Violet stole looks out the window whenever her husband came into view. How she used to dread looking upon him. The first day they’d met, he seemed the ugliest monster in existence, but now...

  “Oh, goodness,” she whispered.

  “Pardon, Your Highness?” Jeannie looked up at her. “Did you need something?”

  “I’m just...” Her voice trailed off.

  “You’re tired,” said the maid in a kind voice. “I warrant we’re nearly there, and then you can settle into your new home. We’ll take care of everything once we arrive. You need only rest.”

  “Rest. Yes.” Violet rubbed her forehead. “I just... I can’t believe we’re married now. I mean, I know we’re married but...” She looked outside and caught a glimpse of Thomas again. She pressed her thighs together. Since their wedding night—and this morning—so many things had changed. She had changed, her body had changed. She remembered how he felt inside her, driving her to loftier and loftier heights. She felt empty down there now, in a place she’d never felt empty before. Of course, she couldn’t explain any of this to Jeannie, or anyone.

  “There,” said Jeannie, leaning to gaze out the window. “There’s the manor house in the distance. We’re nearly there.”

  By the time the carriage rode down the tree-lined avenue to the courtyard, the entire staff of Thornton Manor stood in formation before the front door. It felt strange to return as a wife instead of a prisoner. Everyone bowed and curtsied when she alighted from the carriage, but Violet felt a flush of embarrassment color her cheeks. This staff had seen her at her worst. Her very worst. Was that the kitchen maid who had delivered her food as she knelt over the sofa back with her arse in the air? Were those the footmen who had stood sentry outside the discipline parlor as she cried herself to sleep in the cage?

  Thomas took her hand and squeezed it as if to give her courage. He smelled of fresh air and leather, and looked handsomer than ever. “Welcome home,” he said. “I’m so pleased you’re here.”

  “I’m pleased to be here.”

  “Shall I carry you over the threshold for good luck?” He swept her into his arms without waiting for an answer. She clutched at him with a squeak, but he was solid and strong, bearing her through the great entry doors and into the soaring vestibule. He didn’t stop there, but carried her toward the stairs and up to the second floor.

  “Someday I’ll give you the full tour of Thornton Manor, since you’re to be its mistress. But for now, perhaps you’d prefer to settle in and prepare for dinner?”

  “Will I have my old room?”

  “Yes, as it’s conveniently next door to mine.”

  “Won’t we stay in the same room?”

  He put her down with a surprised look. “Do you want to stay in my room?”

  She shrugged and pretended not to care, but she did care. She didn’t wish to feel a prisoner as she had before, marginalized and alone.

  “I suppose you must have your own room to retreat to,” he said, opening the door to a familiar chamber decked out in ivory ruffles and dove gray velvet. The windows were open, and a plethora of candles lit the elegant furnishings amidst the deepening twilight. “But if you wish to sleep beside me every night, I suppose it would be expedient to our purposes.”

  When her brows drew together in confusion, he elucidated.

  “The heir, darling. Or heirs. You remember our talk about how they come to be?”

  “Oh, yes.” She wouldn’t forget that talk anytime soon. But she hadn’t been thinking of making heirs. She’d been thinking of nightly spankings, and curling up in his arms afterward to drift to sleep. She turned to him, finally managing to meet his deep blue stare. She had so many feelings inside her, so many feelings to do with him, and no ability to put them into words. As she continued to stare—no, gawk—at him, a corner of his mouth turned up in amusement.

  “I never thought to see the day you preferred to spend time in close company with me, but I
’ll take it as a blessing.” He guided her toward his room. “They’ll be hauling up your belongings for the next hour or so. Perhaps you’ll take refuge in my chambers until they’re finished?”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely. If I stay here, I’ll only be in the way.”

  Thomas led her through the door and shut it behind them just as the first round of trunks arrived. His room was not blazing with candlelight, but she still remembered every detail, especially the great, dark, velvet-canopied bed against the back wall. Her eyes went to it at once. He slid an arm around her waist, regaining her attention.

  “Sleepy, Violet?” he asked in a rumbling, teasing tone.

  “Not very. I slept a little in the carria—”

  His lips cut off her words and his fingers spread upon her spine, pulling her close against his virile body. As he kissed her, she reached to touch his face, to convince herself, yes, yes, I’m married to him now. His kiss deepened as she scratched at the rough texture of his stubble. My husband. He had not kissed her like this yet, so intense and long and deep she could barely breathe.

  She loved the voracious nature of his lust. When his tongue swept inside her mouth she did the same to him, questing to possess him with as much passion as he possessed her.

  He made a rough sound and turned her toward his bed. When she started to climb upon it, he yanked her back and bent her over it instead, drawing up her skirts. Cool air hit her backside as he bared it. Would he spank her now?

  No. He undid his breeches and shoved them down, and pressed against her from behind, and she knew he was going to fill her again, not spank her. His cock felt hot and hard against her backside.

  “I want you, Violet. I want you always, with such hunger. Of course you must stay in my bed every night.”

  He accompanied this decision with a deep thrust into her womb. Her walls stretched to accommodate him as she balanced on her toes. He squeezed her hips and leaned down to speak into her ear. “How does that feel, darling?”

  “It feels very...very...ohhh.”

  He chuckled as her voice transformed to a moan. This was the third time he had been inside her, and each time had felt different. The first time felt strange and a little scary, the second time felt warm and sweet, and this time felt exciting, as if they were doing something illicit. When she moaned again, he put his fingers over her mouth.

  “Not too loud, darling. The room next door is bustling with servants.”

  It became difficult to remember the servants when he reached beneath her to stroke her flower’s petals as he surged into her from behind. The force, the pressure, his sharp breaths and low groans all combined to drive her wild. Her bodice slid across the bed and her legs began to shake as she neared completion.

  “I love being married,” she cried as she arched her hips back against him. “I love how coupling feels.”

  “I knew you would.”

  She heard him chuckle as her body convulsed in a wash of pleasure. She clenched upon his shaft and felt his fullness everywhere inside her. He drove deeply with a great shudder, and then fell still. As they lay together, spent, he cupped her sex and moved his lips along her ear.

  “I hoped you’d be mine,” he whispered. “But I never imagined it would be like this. I never imagined I’d find as much pleasure in loving you as disciplining you.”

  “Are you...are you happy to be married to me?” she asked, feeling shy and excited, and a thousand other feelings at once.

  “I’m deliriously happy to be married to you.” He shifted closer, all the bulk and power of him. “Welcome home, princess. Now we can begin the rest of our lives.”

  Other kinky historical romances by Annabel Joseph

  Lily Mine

  When Lily wends her way down the country lane to Lilyvale Manor, she hopes the coincidence of names bodes well, for she is in dire straits. She’s been disowned by her London family and finds herself desperately in need of a job.

  Lord Ashbourne is equally at ends, his fiancée having jilted him for a commoner and run off to the Continent. Her powerful society family is determined to delay the breaking scandal in order to save the younger sister's prospects. When a servant leads Lily to his parlor, James is astonished to discover how closely she resembles the missing lady of the manor.

  He hatches a plan, convincing Lily to play his absent “wife” to keep the gossips at bay. He reassures her it will be in name only, but soon enough, playacting turns to real attraction, and friendship to aching, mounting desire. The strictures of society and unforeseen tragedy combine to test the pair's forbidden love, even as they are driven ever closer into one another's arms…

  Disciplining the Duchess

  Over five seasons, Miss Harmony Barrett has managed to repel every gentleman of consequence and engineer a debacle at Almack’s so horrifying that her waltzing privileges are revoked. If she’s not in the library reading about Mongol hordes, she’s embarrassing her family or getting involved in impulsive scrapes.

  Enter the Duke of Courtland, a man known for his love of duty and decorum. Through a vexing series of events, he finds himself shackled to Miss Barrett in matrimony. But all is not lost. The duke harbors a not-so-secret affinity for spanking and discipline…and his new wife is ever in need of it. Will the mismatched couple find their way to marital happiness? Or will the duke be forever Disciplining the Duchess?

  The Properly Spanked series

  Four friends. Four wives to tame. Endless spankings.

  These sexy historical romances highlight Regency spanking at its finest, with four happy endings for readers to enjoy.

  About the Author

  Annabel Joseph is a multi-published, New York Times Bestselling BDSM romance author. She writes mainly contemporary romance, although she has been known to dabble in the medieval and Regency eras. She is known for writing emotionally intense BDSM storylines, and strives to create characters that seem real—even flawed—so readers are better able to relate to them. Annabel also writes non-BDSM romance under the pen name Molly Joseph.

  You can follow Annabel on Twitter (@annabeljoseph) or Facebook (facebook.com/annabeljosephnovels), or sign up to receive her monthly newsletter at annabeljoseph.com. She also loves to hear from her readers at annabeljosephnovels@gmail.com.