Thandi is surprised. She had never thought that the Lord Vanderbee cared for her in one way or another. The way he spoke, she had assumed he was just using her. A mutual exchange: her, for whatever she wanted in this world; him, to be able to do as he pleased without the pressure of marriage from his advisors.

But tonight…

He steers her backwards, toward her bed, and forces her to sit. “I said, where did he touch you?”

“Nowhere of consequence, my Lord.”

He growls, now speaking through grit teeth. “All of you is of consequence. Or did you forget your vows? Did you forget who you belong to?”

You will be the only one I have eyes for. My beloved spouse, I vow to give my heart to only you, to give every bit of my being to you, to be yours til the day I die.

She hadn’t forgotten. It’s the standard East Istrian wedding vow. She did not think it particularly important, as theirs is a marriage of symbiotic parasitism. His own vows were shorter.

You are mine, and I am yours. For as long as you’ll have me, this will remain true.

Did he… mean those words? 

Thandi stares into the severe eyes of her husband. He kneels on the floor in front of her, glare hard. Determined. She sees… something unexpected. No, it can’t be. She takes a deep breath. “I’ve not forgotten, my Lord.”

Another growl.

“He kissed my hand.” 

The Duke nods, removing his cravat pin and slipping it into a pocket. He carefully undoes his cravat, white muslin as clean and bright as the coils on her head. He takes her hand delicately, wiping her skin with the soft cloth, massaging her. The intense concentration on his face only makes Thandi blush.

What could be going through his mind? As he finishes, he lightly brings her fingers to his lips and lays gentle kisses upon the knuckles. He glances up at her. “Where else did he dare to touch my wife?”

Don’t tell her that this is his way of…! Claiming her! She’s nervous as she says next, “My shoulder…” She gestures to her right, and he nods. Lord Vanderbee pauses to undo his boots and toss them aside, climbing into her bed to kneel behind her. Thandi finds herself tilting her head, letting him get at her shoulder and neck.

His cravat suffices as a way to wipe her clean, as if refreshing the sensations of her skin to make his own leave an impression. Or maybe she’s overthinking it?

Lord Vanderbee massages both shoulders, and she hadn’t realized how tense she was until he’s in the midst of relaxing her. “My Lord… you are certainly… intent on helping me to forget.”

He leans forward, hands not stopping as his breath hits her ear. “Enough my Lords for the night, my wife. Thandi. Call me by my name.”

“Charles?”

“Don’t be insufferable. You know how much I dislike it.”

At this, she giggles. She leans back to lay against his chest. He no longer massages— there is simply no room to do so! “Charlie.”

“There we go, my moon. Much better.” He lays kisses along the curve of her neck. The sensation of his lips on anything but her hands is new and fresh and exhilarating. And yet he moves so gently.

“Any other requests, my… Charlie?”

“Quite a few. Keep on with my Charlie and tell me where else he touched you.”

“My… my waist.”

“That bastard.” Charlie’s hands move to her sides, carefully wiping… and then his hand sits there and rubs. “Never let anyone else come near you again. You are mine. My wife. I haven’t got faith above or below and certainly not enough for those who step away and linger unseen for the next opportunity to avail a man of his partner.” 

He buries his face into the crook of Thandi’s neck as she turns her face to kiss the top of his head. His hair is silky soft, smelling only vaguely minty. There’s a masculine scent about him right now and it makes her all the more aware of the way he is pressing to her. 

He only shifts to sit properly, hoisting her to sit neatly between his legs, his arms wrapped around her. 

“You are mine. Not a single soul may touch you without my permission. Not even the gods. You are my wife. Mine. Never for anyone else. I refuse them the privilege.” His lips meet her neck again, and then he nips. It’s so light. Kiss after kiss. It makes her squeeze her legs together. His voice is low and sultry, rumbling through his chest and into her. She feels something else now. Pressed hard into her back. His arousal. 

It makes her tense, and yet… she’s not against the idea. They’re married. It was bound to come up eventually.

She’s making puns to comfort herself. 

And yet. That flicker inside of her. Fanning the flame. His hips rock slightly, grinding his cock against her as his hands rise to cup her breasts. He lays yet another kiss upon her neck. “My wife. My moon, my stars, my wife…” His fingers find the tips of her nipples through the silk of her dress, teasing them. Thandi’s breathing becomes shaky and one of his hands come up to turn her face toward him, the kiss he presses to her lips strong. 

And yet. His lips are soft. It leaves her tingling. His eyes meet hers, the shocks of honey in them making her ache. Whyever did she marry a man who couldn’t love her? Another kiss. His eyes flutter closed as his tongue seeks permission to enter. Thandi parts her lips and the taste of him is exhilarating. His tongue is smooth, and it feels like he wants to taste her thoroughly. 

A purr runs through him and shocks them both. He pulls back, hand rising to his chest. And then he jerks himself up to stalk away, though she manages an eyeful of his straining erection against his trousers.

Oh, no.

The curiosity is killing her… not to mention her own arousal…