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“You’re so strong,” she whispered. “Your body is magnificent.” Magnificent? He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just held still and let her run her hands up and over the bunched muscle, then up and over his shoulders. “Could we – that is –” She licked her lips.

“Tell me.” Whatever it was, he was pretty sure he would be happy to oblige.

“Kiss?”

Oh. That. He really didn’t like people coming in close to his face. In general, it wasn’t a problem as he towered over most people. Kissing, though, tended to bring your face up close and personal. He squinted at her dubiously. She wanted to see his ruined face at close quarters? Her hopeful gaze didn’t even waver.

Ah, what the hells. She really wasn’t asking for much. Bracing himself, Konrad leaned down to press his lips to hers. He wasn’t expecting her to fling her arms about his neck or come at him with such clumsy enthusiasm. Drawing back wasn’t really an option when she had his neck in such a tight grip. If he was honest, though, the feel of her breasts pressed up against his chest made the experience a lot more tolerable.

He made no attempt to deepen the kiss, just waited patiently for it to be over, but Aimee seemed in no hurry to draw back. He frowned. He was pretty sure she was holding her breath. She would pass out at this rate. He jerked his head back, and sure enough, she dragged in a shuddering breath, gazing up at him with glazed, unfocussed eyes. Really? She’d liked it that much?

Well, they had done something she liked, so now they could do something for him. “Can I touch you, Aimee?” She nodded, but tipped her face up again, clearly under the impression he had asked for another kiss. He’d better disabuse of her that notion. “I don’t want to kiss your mouth.”

“Oh.” For a moment, there was a flash of disappointment in her eyes.

“I’ll kiss you somewhere else though,” he said quickly to make up for it.

“My hand?” she suggested with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

His lips crooked into an involuntary smile. “Not your hand, no.”

She waited politely, and he slid his hand between her legs, finding her so wet and warm that he could not hold back his deep groan of appreciation. Slipping his fingers between her folds made her tense, but she soon relaxed again when he took his time, swirling his thumb against the fleshy pink pearl hidden between them.

“I thought you were going to kiss me,” she said shakily, and he frowned. He had touched her here the other night to ready her, so she knew what came next. Clearly, she did not relish the thought and wanted more kisses and talking.

“I will,” he said tersely, breathing out. Aimee was clearly a talker. He was not. By habit, he was as stoic in the bedchamber as he was everywhere else. “I’m going to kiss your breasts,” he said and shifted down her body, transferring his hands to her waist.

She seemed surprised by this but voiced no objection. On his wedding night, he had wanted to spare her any indignity and had got the consummation over with as quickly as possible. He licked his lips now in anticipation and tried not to feel conscious of his wife’s intent gaze on his face. Should he pay her some compliment? He cast a quick look up at her face. “Ready?” he asked instead when words failed him.

She nodded and he lowered his face to trail kisses down the valley between her soft, full breasts. Her tender skin quivered beneath his mouth, and her breathing sharpened. He was just deciding if that reaction was good or bad when he felt her hand at the back of his head, lightly clasping him to her. Good, he thought. She likes it.

He continued his journey of closed-mouth kisses underneath and around one breast, then the other. Her breathing grew ragged, and the clasp on his head grew firmer. He opened his mouth over her nipple and greedily sucked it into his mouth. Aimee made a strange noise in her throat, half sob-half moan, which went straight through him like a bolt of lust. He wanted her to make that noise when he gave her his dick.

He swirled his tongue over her nipple and then released it to lavish the same attention on her other breast. Gods, but she had lovely breasts. Aimee was panting now, her breathing ragged. He rested the palm of his hand against the soft swell of her stomach. She was as pleasingly rounded here as everywhere else on her delectable body.

It occurred to him that perhaps, in the absence of any polished compliments, that he could speak some of these thoughts aloud. Would that please her? Even before the catastrophic battle scars, he had been far from a ladies’ man. He had been betrothed, it was true, but his father had arranged that match. No wooing had been required of him. The only company of women he had sought out had required hard coin rather than soft words.

He lifted his head to look at his wife’s flushed face. “How about giving me another taste, Aimee?” he suggested thickly. “From the fount this time.” He saw her attempt to make sense of his words, before giving up and nodding anyway. Obliging, he thought. “Open your legs.” He shifted down again, his hands on her thighs urging them to part. “Bend your knees.”

Aimee followed his instructions, though he heard a sharp indrawn breath as though she would speak. He lowered his head, cutting off whatever words she had been about to utter as he pressed a lingering kiss to her sweet mound. She gave a startled squawk. He certainly had not done this on the previous occasion. “My lord?” she asked in a quavering voice, as the trail of his kisses led downward.

He supposed he really should give her permission to speak his name, only his mouth was rather busy right now with other things. He paused a moment to breathe heavily against her as her nether hair tickled his face. His chest was heaving as though in the midst of battle. Unable to hold back any longer, he dragged his tongue slowly and deliberately through her slick cleft.

“Ohhhhhh, Lord Kentigern,” she moaned breathily, and his cock jerked hard. On the other hand, he kind of liked how she said his title. By the time he’d lavished his attentions there for a few minutes, he no longer minded the fact she was so vocal either. The words and broken phrases falling from her lips might not make a whole lot of sense, but they were stimulating as hell to hear.

He sucked her pearl into his mouth and felt her come apart around him with a satisfying series of whimpers and moans. She was still quaking in the aftermath when he slid back up her body, positioning his hips between her splayed thighs.

“Ready?” he rumbled. She gave him a dazed nod, and he reached down to align himself with her before starting to push inside. This time was a lot less of a struggle, but Aimee held very still and fell disappointingly silent. He suspected she was once more holding her breath. Once he was fully seated, he stilled himself and looked down at her red face. “Are you … comfortable?” he asked, unsure of his word choice.

She puffed out her breath and pulled a face. “Yes?” she answered but did not look at all convinced.

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?” he asked shrewdly. He was holding his considerable weight off her with his forearms, but the difference in their size was considerable. He was aware how intimidating it must be to have him in her bed and that wasn’t even taking his mangled face into account.

“Of course,” she answered in a strangled voice.

He still wasn’t convinced, but the promptings of his own body were fast overtaking his scruples. He rocked his hips, and when she didn’t protest, he set a pace brisk enough for him to reach release. It didn’t take long, but he couldn’t resist from lowering his face into her neck at the end and pressing his mouth to her smooth skin. He stayed there a moment, breathing raggedly, and it was only when he felt her hand softly stroking his side that he mustered the energy to withdraw and roll onto his back beside her.

He lay waiting for his breath to even out before hauling himself up into a seated position and turning his head to look at her. She reached for the sheet to cover herself. “It will get better for you, or so I believe,” he said harshly.