Page 29 of Twelfth Night Sorcery (The Cambion Club #2)

In truth, Honora found it difficult to focus on her bedtime routine.

It was hard to sit still long enough to brush out her hair.

She wanted to pace the room. She wanted to walk back into Valance’s room and ask him more questions, because she still did not feel he had adequately prepared her.

And, because it was late and it had been a rather eventful day, she occasionally found herself thinking longingly about her pillow.

She wasted so much time pacing back and forth that when Valance did knock at the door between their rooms, she had not finished with her hair. But she put the brush down and opened the door.

He wore his dressing gown, which was a little disappointing. But that might be for the best, given that Honora had been reduced to incoherent babbling the only time she’d seen him (mostly) unclothed.

She had no idea what one ought to say to one’s husband in this situation. If there existed a script for it, no one had taught Honora her lines. So, she simply waited for him to speak.

“There’s something we should talk about first,” Valance said without preamble. “I did not think to ask you if you wished to avoid conception.” He opened his palm to reveal a heavy signet ring.

From the outside, the ring looked perfectly normal. But when Honora picked it up, her fingertips hummed with magic. She turned it over in her hand, looking for the charm that might cause that buzz of power. She did not find any words or sigils creating the spell, but she did find a hinge.

“Does this open up?”

“Yes. There’s a trick to it.” He took the ring and popped open the lid, revealing a small hollow space beneath the bezel. “It’s a renaissance poison ring. I can put spell papers inside, as long as my writing is small enough.”

Honora peered at the tiny scrap of paper inside the ring. Her ability to see magic told her that this was medical magic, though it was not a spell she had seen before. “Are you saying that is a contraception charm?”

“Yes. Had a devil of a time writing that small.” He grimaced as he snapped the compartment shut. “In any case, the spell works. If I wear the ring, the spell will keep you from getting with child. Do you want me to do that?”

She studied his face, but could not tell from his expression what he preferred. “I thought you needed an heir?”

He shrugged. “Someday, yes. That does not mean we need to conceive one tonight.”

“I see no reason to avoid it,” Honora told him.

After all, she could not help being curious about pregnancy and childbirth, too.

Some of her mother’s friends seemed to hate pregnancy, griping about the backaches, swollen ankles, and other symptoms. But others were delighted when they found themselves with child. She wondered which sort she would be.

“Very well.” He dropped the ring into the pocket of his dressing gown.

“What do we do now?” Honora asked straightforwardly.

Did they have to get undressed first? Should she have put on a nightgown instead of keeping on her shift?

Should she go lie down on the bed? Should she have been in bed already when her husband came to her room?

She frowned just thinking of all the possibilities.

“You look like you are about to take some rigorous examination in school.” Valance brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. “I promise, I will not grade your performance. Nor will there be a test afterward.”

“I know that.” Heat rushed into her face. She had not realized how clearly her thoughts were written on her face.

“You have a charming blush,” Valance told her. “But I want you to feel comfortable with me.” He tipped her chin up with one finger and brushed his mouth against hers.

Honora returned his kiss. Then she was in his arms, one arm around his neck, while they exchanged slow, lingering kisses.

Valance pulled away for a moment to finally answer her question: “This is what we do first. I intend to kiss you until you beg for more than kisses.”

Honora would have asked him what exactly he meant by “more than kisses,” but her mouth was already otherwise occupied, because he had resumed kissing her. Valance moved forward, slowly walking her backwards towards the bed. When her legs hit the mattress, he let go of her so he could disrobe.

His dressing gown fell to the floor. He wore nothing underneath but his drawers, but Honora did not have much of a chance to either study or admire his body, because he sat down and pulled her onto his lap.

“Is this too much?” he murmured in her ear. “I do not want to rush you or frighten you. But I do want you, very much. I have wanted you since the moment our eyes met across that damn ballroom on Twelfth Night.”

“You did?” Honora had drunk only a little brandy, but she felt strangely tipsy.

Was that the effect of her proximity to her husband?

His body was warm against hers. Was that why she felt so flushed?

She reached out to stroke his chest, as she had longed to do the other night.

Unreal though this moment might be, Valance at least felt reassuringly solid.

“Why do you think I was willing to sneak off with you down an empty corridor? I don’t normally do that sort of thing.” He nuzzled her neck right beneath her ear, sending shivers all the way down to her toes. They were pleasant shivers, though. “Tell me, darling, why did you pick me?”

Honora found it difficult to talk, because Valance was now stroking one of her nipples through the thin cloth of her shift.

She had not expected it to harden under contact the way it did.

Why did it do that? And why did her husband ask her questions and then do things that made it so very difficult to answer him? That seemed unfair.

“Um, I don’t really know why it was you. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you for some reason. Maybe it was your unusual magic?” That was the only explanation she’d ever come up with.

“Oh, I’ll show you magic, all right.” His voice rasped right in her ear, and Honora broke out into goosebumps. He moved his hand to her other breast. That started a new series of physical reactions, some of which she did not recognize.

“Valance,” she asked, “why is there a pulsing sensation between my legs?”

He paused his kissing to answer her. “Probably because you desire me.” He sounded pleased. “Would you like me to do more than kiss you now?”

“Yes. But what do we do next?” she asked practically.

“I would like to pleasure you.” Honora drew a breath, intending to ask him to clarify (“pleasure” not being a very specific word), but he continued without her asking. “Tell me, do you ever touch yourself between the legs?”

“Not now, but sometimes when I was child. It felt good.” She had quit doing it when her mother told her “self-pollution” could cause illness or insanity.

“Exactly,” he agreed. “I would like to touch you there, with either my hand or my mouth. May I do that?”

Did that mean being touched there did not cause insanity? Had her mother misled her? Or was it only injurious if one did it to oneself? It must be all right, she reasoned. Valance would not do something that might harm her.

“Yes,” she told him.

He responded by pulling off her shift and laying her down on the bed. Her heart hammered in her chest. Some of that was undoubtedly due to nerves, but most of it was due to Valance’s attentions.

“My God, but you’re beautiful.” It was not the first time Valance had called Honora “beautiful,” but the word took on a different significance tonight. He did not mean merely that her appearance fit Society’s standard of feminine beauty. He meant he desired her.

He stroked her cheek, then let his hand wander further down her body. “If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you must tell me at once.”

“I will,” she promised. Though “comfortable” did not really seem like a word that fit any of her current sensations.

She felt nervous, thrilled, and flushed.

Parts of her body that normally seemed to slumber were awake and making demands she had no idea how to satisfy.

None of that felt bad, but it did not feel comfortable, either.

Valance moved further down the bed, dropping kisses on her body along the way. Each kiss seemed to wake her nerves up more, and she found herself breathing heavily even before he reached the soft folds between her legs. He nudged her legs apart and put his mouth on her and—

“Oh my God,” she gasped. It was not blasphemy, but reverence. She had no idea her body had been made for sensations like that.

Valance reached up to take hold of her hand. She clung to it tightly as he continued to tease, lick, and suck. This was what her body had been demanding. How did he know what she needed when she had not known?

In some dim corner of her mind, Honora thought it was deeply unfair that people had concealed the possibility of such pleasure from her.

If her mother had known this was what the marriage bed was like, why had she not told her daughters that?

She had, on the contrary, implied that being bedded by one’s husband was an important, albeit sometimes unpleasant, duty.

This did not feel at all like a duty to Honora, and it was not in the least unpleasant.

The heat and tension between her legs kept building. It was agony and ecstasy all at once. She simultaneously wanted it to stop—because it felt like sweet torture—and to last forever. But it did not last forever. Instead, shivers of sharp sensation swept over her body.

“Oh, I like that,” she gasped. Then muscles deep within her pulsed, and she was taken beyond words. She could only moan as waves of powerful sensation rolled over her.

When the paroxysm of pleasure ended, Valance lifted his head, wiped his mouth, and smiled at her. “How was that, darling?”

“So good.” Her body, thoroughly spent, seemed to sink into the mattress. She was not sure she was capable of moving. “But too short.” The climax had ended almost as soon as she understood what was happening.