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Harrington leaned toward the captain, dropping his voice low. “Diana told me that your first mate gave up his cabin. I didn’t mean to indispose anyone.”

Captain Bannister’s expression was kind. “I can assure you, Kirkpatrick was happy with the arrangement. Besides, the voyage is short, and we all remember what it was like, being a newly married man.” He straightened, adopting a commanding voice. “Lieutenant Astley!”

Harrington snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!”

“You are relieved of duty for the duration of the voyage.”

Harrington’s cheeks burned. “Thank you, sir!”

Beside him, Diana was fluttering about, batting her eyelashes in a distinctly un-Diana-like manner. “Oh, thank you, Captain!” She took Harrington’s hand, smiling at him fondly. “I don’t know what I would have done without your assistance.”

Captain Bannister bowed. “That’s quite all right, my lady. I’ve given orders for your husband’s trunk to be moved to your cabin. Do you remember the way?”

Diana seized upon this excuse to leave. “I believe so.” She was already towing Harrington toward the central hatch. “Thank you again!”

As he followed his wife, Harrington heard a mixture of sniggering, cheering, and lewd whistles. He ducked his head, but Diana kept hers up the whole time, smirking like the cat who got the cream.

The cabin Diana led him to was not what you would call spacious.

The bunk along the wall was designed to sleep one.

Harrington’s trunk had been tucked beneath it.

You had to squeeze past a small square table to reach the bed.

And in the corner, there was a cannon, a twelve-pounder, by the look of it.

But the silver lining was that the presence of a cannon meant they had a window, so at least there was a bit of light.

Harrington chuckled nervously. “Well, isn’t this romantic? Did you ever imagine you’d spend your wedding night next to a cannon?”

She grabbed him by the front of his coat and shoved him down on the bed. Harrington was so startled that he offered no resistance. Hiking up her skirts, she crawled on top of him, straddling him, then proceeded to kiss him with such ferocity he forgot where he was entirely.

“I don’t give a fig about the cannon,” she said when she finally lifted her head. “Take off your clothes. Now!”

“ Oh, my God .” Harrington’s cock pulsed in his trousers. Diana shoving him down on the bed and ravishing him was his every sexual fantasy come true.

But it wasn’t just the fact that she was making his cock bear more than a passing resemblance to the ship’s mast. Her following him onto this ship, refusing to let him go, dragging him off to a cabin and climbing on top of him… it made him feel wanted .

He’d honestly never thought that anyone would want him. Not for more than a quick roll in the hay.

The thought that this brilliant, perfect woman wanted him had his throat seizing up and him blinking rapidly to hold back the sudden moisture in his eyes.

Fortunately, Diana chose that moment to distract him by reaching her hand down and teasing him through the placket of his trousers.

He groaned as his head lolled to the side. She seemed to know how much he liked what she was doing, if the smug grin she was giving him was any indication. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he panted. “Possibly a little too much.”

She arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “How could you like it too much?”

“If you keep bossing me around, this is going to be very, very short.” He straightened, giving her a quick kiss, then scooped her up, depositing her next to him on the narrow bed. “Although it’s probably going to be short regardless.”

For once, his preternaturally confident wife looked unsure. “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

“Difficult to say.” He peeled his coat off, tossed it on the floor, and yanked at the stock around his neck. “It depends on what you like. I suppose we’re about to find out.”

Her eyes were fierce as she grabbed his shirt and pulled him down on top of her. “ Let’s .”

They rolled around, kissing and groping, until Diana was naked before him and he was down to his trousers.

He lay her back onto the narrow bunk—he still couldn’t believe he was sharing his wedding night with the daughter of a fucking duke in a plain wooden sailor’s bunk! —and pressed her thighs open.

She frowned when he started to slide down. “Harrington! We’ve done that part before. I want to experience the rest of it.”

“You will.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Believe me, you will. But you’ll have an easier time of it if you’re sopping wet.”

She held her pout. “I think I’m already… already quite…” She trailed off on a gasp as he delved between her folds with his tongue. After a couple of panting breaths, she waved a hand magnanimously. “F-fine. I suppose we can try… your idea.”

He couldn’t help but grin. Lord knew his new wife loved to be licked and fondled on the little button between her legs. And he was damn glad he was the man who got to do it.

He wondered if she would like the rest of it as well.

Because of the vow he’d made to her brother, he hadn’t dared to slip so much as a finger inside of her while they’d been at the house party.

He was far from a blushing virgin, and he knew from experience that some only derived pleasure from the spot he was currently fondling.

Continuing to tongue her, he slipped a finger inside of her, palm facing up. She was as wet as Cumberland. It went in easily, but he noticed that she stiffened and then started to squirm.

He lifted his head. “Does that hurt?”

“N-no!” she sputtered.

Harrington frowned. Diana’s expression was difficult to read. She looked vaguely… startled? Maybe she was hesitant to admit that what he was doing was less than pleasant. “Maybe it would be more accurate to say uncomfortable?”

He trailed off. Diana did not seem to be attending. She squirmed on the bed, pressing her hips down against the mattress, then gave an experimental wiggle.

Harrington frowned. “Is everything all right?”

She sighed, moving her hips again. An expression came over her face, and this time, he recognized it.

It was bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

He started circling his finger inside her, rubbing her front wall. She gasped in response. “Does that feel good, then?”

Her eyes rolled back in her head. “ So good!”

He slipped in a second finger. She squealed, but this time, he was certain it was a good squeal.

He tried to lower his head again, but strong fingers knotted in his hair. “Oh, no, you don’t!” She yanked him upward. “Get up here, you silly man. And take off those bloody trousers!”

Harrington had never been so happy to obey an order in his life.