The Earl in My Bed (Rebellious Desires) by Reid Stacy

Author:Reid, Stacy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled, Scandalous, historical, romance, enemies to lovers; blackmail; seduction; scandal; arranged marriage; historical romance; regency
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

It was, of course, impossible to sleep, or even pretend it.

Daphne was curled onto her side on the small bed in the otherwise spacious cabin with her husband lying motionless behind her. She was maddeningly conscious of his body next to hers. They had spent another hour or so on the deck, and she would allow she’d never had a more wonderful time. Sometimes they were silent and simply watched the stars, other times they talked, about anything and everything. It had seemed frighteningly normal. That this is what their marriage could be like had been a resounding thought. The laughter, the friendship as they drank and shared the things they cared about. And the sweet tension that had filled her with every heated stare from her husband, every brush of his breath against her nape, and the gradual hardness that had formed beneath her buttocks, which they had elected to ignore.

She’d had no idea what their days together would be like. So far nothing had gone as she’d expected. Somehow, when they’d retired she had thought they would occupy separate cabins. The vessel had certainly seemed large enough. As it was, Daphne dismissed Letty to another cabin when her husband had entered hers dressed in only black trousers and bare feet. The earl’s state of undress had disconcerted Daphne. Her lady’s maid had squeaked her mortification and hurried from the cabin, her eyes downcast. The wretched man had chuckled, amusement dancing in his green eyes.

With toiletries completed, she had slipped between the sheets on the small bed. He had joined her, and Daphne was certain an hour had passed, and she was still unable to sleep. She was simply too aware of the man behind her. Unwilling to examine her feelings closely, Daphne found herself oddly restless. She shifted, and he swore under his breath. Her eyes widened.

She wriggled again, and he said some choice words, ones that were decidedly unfit for a lady to hear. She fought a smile and lost. It bemused her that she was grinning widely.

If only she could tempt and torment him for six years.

“Merciful Christ,” he muttered, sounding thoroughly aggrieved. “Please, be still, my wife.”

My wife. She tried, truly she did, but a full minute passed before she kicked the cotton sheets from her leg, feeling unbearably warm. Her body felt incredibly alive, every sense somehow keener. “Are you sleeping?”

He grunted. She sighed. There was an awful frustration tugging at her insides without an ounce of mercy.

“Take what you need,” he said softly.

“I need more space,” she replied, knowing full well to what he alluded.

“Come on top of me and lay your head on my chest and your feet over my hips.”

A delicious shock flared through her, and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “Do husbands and wives sleep like that?”

“I don’t know. We could.”

“Do lovers?” she asked, beyond curious.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever slept with through the night,” he said gruffly.

The knowledge warmed her. She tentatively faced him. His mouth was only an inch or two away from hers.

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