The Bedeviled Bride by Jerrica Knight-Catania

Author:Jerrica Knight-Catania
Language: ron
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

Michael sat in his room, trying very hard to focus on the text in front of him. It was a letter from his elder brother, Benjamin, updating him on the most recent news from Ravenscroft Castle. Nothing terribly exciting, except that their sister Katherine was expecting again. As was one of the mares in the castle stables.

But it was hard to concentrate when his body was in such horrific pain. Oddly

enough, the pain had nothing to do with the hours he'd spent in manual labor that day, repairing the roof, tearing down rotted walls and carrying buckets of water in so everyone could bathe after such a trying day. All of them smelled something akin to horse manure by the time they were done.

No, the pain came from something far more base, and it was concentrated in one

particular area that, despite his exhaustion, refused to stand down.

He shot a glance at the door that connected his room to Beth's. Should he go to her?

Was she sleeping? Did he care? He was sure it wouldn't be too difficult to get her to open for him, even if she was asleep.

Or perhaps he should simply pleasure himself and let her rest. Lord knew they both needed sleep after their day. But Lord also knew he'd never be able to sleep unless he found his release.

With a new determination, he tossed the letter on the side table and stalked across the room to the panel. He knocked lightly—enough so that if she were awake she would hear him, but not enough to rouse her from sleep. Silence. Slowly, he opened the door and peered inside. It was almost dark; the fire had burned down to embers and a chill was beginning to permeate the room. Still, it did nothing to soothe his hardened state.

Beth moved slightly in her sleep and mumbled something incomprehensible that

sounded more like a moan. A moan that reminded him of the night before, of being inside of her, hearing her scream with pleasure. He quickened his pace until he stood next to the bed. She lay on her stomach, the covers up around her shoulders, her face nestled into the downy pillow.

Michael watched her for a moment, marveling at how she'd come to be his. How he'd

finally wooed her to his bed. How she had warmed to him and actually wanted to be the mother of his children. And his heart rejoiced, along with the rest of his body.

Without further ado, he tossed his robe aside and climbed into the large four-poster.

He turned her onto her side, so he could cradle her in his arms. She mumbled again, but didn't wake, only nestled into his shoulder and smacked her lips a couple of times. Her perfect, plump lips.

He leaned down to kiss them, wrapping his arms tight around her body, getting to

know the planes and curves that made up his wife. She was soft, supple, perfectly made.

She molded her warm body to his and pressed into him, and Michael worried that he

might lose all self-control in that moment.

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