Page 85 of Prince of Scandal

“And why do you need to know that, Your Highness?” he asked sternly, even as his cock began to throb.

She quivered. “I wish to be alone with my husband…so he might spank me. I’ve waited a whole week, Ashton. Everything is fine and dandy and I need it.”

“Georgiana.”

“Oh, you can growl,” she said sunnily, carefully resting her cheek on his chest. “But I know you crave me like I crave you.”

Ashton caressed her shoulder and leaned down to speak directly into her ear. “I do, my love. And I shall warm your backside until it is the exact hue of that ribbon. But I could not, in good conscience, deny you the magnificent desserts that will be served.”

“How dare you, sir. Using dessert as…”

“Dessert?” he asked mildly.

“Diabolical,” she muttered. “Utterly diabolical.”

Ashton grinned. His princess was even more beautiful when temporarily thwarted. Half the fun was pondering what she might do next.

How wonderful that he had a lifetime to do just that.

* * *

Usually, Georgiana loved parties. Especially where she was the center of attention. And right now she was not only in the Carlton House gardens, seated on a wooden dais, and wearing the most magnificent silver gown in England…she was also a princess.

Yet she wanted to leave quite desperately.

Georgiana squeezed her thighs together under the banquet table in a futile attempt to ease the pulsing ache between her legs. Not even tray after tray of exquisite sweets: raisin pastries, meringues drizzled in caramel, heavy fruitcake, glazed tarts, ices from Gunter’s, berry syllabub with whipped vanilla cream, and almond sweetmeats could tempt her. Every speech, every tune the orchestra played, every guest who approached to wish her well or ask a favor, just annoyed her now. Good bedding hours were being wasted.

“…so let us raise a glass to the newlyweds. Prince and Princess von Hagan!”

She forced a smile and lifted her half-empty champagne glass. “Thank you.”

To make matters far worse, Ashton had draped his arm along the back of her chair, and every so often he would stroke her nape, tormenting her deliberately. Knowing she wanted those strong, talented fingers to spank her bottom pink then enhance the sensation by rubbing the hot, raw flesh. Or tangle in her hair and tug until her scalp prickled while she took his cock in her mouth. Or pinch her tender nipples to rigid points before sucking them. Making her whimper. Making her beg…

“Georgiana.”

She almost jumped a foot in the air at Ashton’s brusque warning. “Uh…yes?”

“You groaned. Are you feeling under the weather? Perhaps in need of a cool, dark chamber?”

“Yes,” she lied shamelessly. “Much as this is a lovely wedding feast, I’m afraid marrying a prince has quite overwhelmed me.”

Ashton’s lips quirked. Damn it. He always saw straight through her. “Then it’s my duty as your husband to escort you to comfort. Get you out of that heavy gown and train. The Prince Regent has allocated us a charming chamber for the night.”

Her breathing became ragged, and a hot blush swept across her cheekbones. Not a bad thing, if they wished to preserve the fiction she was feeling a trifle unwell. “He has been all kindness today.”

“Do you wish to leave at once, or perhaps sample more of these sweets? The glazed tarts with custard and fruit really are quite delectable.”

Gah! Ashton was just teasing her now.

“You are being very mean,” Georgiana replied, pouting.

His gray eyes glinted. “Did you think there would be no consequences for brazenly wearing a dark pink ribbon?”

“No one else knew what it meant…please, Ashton,” she said softly. “Take me to bed.”

He inhaled audibly, then rose to his feet and walked over to where the Prince Regent was standing, surrounded by a large group of guests. The two men had a brief conversation, the heir to the English throne briefly smirked and clapped Ashton on the shoulder, before nodding solemnly.

Then her husband returned. “Come along, Georgiana. And look…exhausted.”