‘I’m not,’ she said, and her hands went to the neck of the fabric and she undid the delicate ties there. The nightdress slid from her, floating to the floor like gossamer. She swayed slightly; a flower caught in a breeze, and he realised she was still a bit drunk. Had she needed to drink because she was nervous? Maybe that was it? She stepped forward out of the shadow and into the glow of the fire. He’d expected her to get into the bed still dressed – he’d half-expected her clothing to stay tangled on her throughout, especially the first time. But instead she stood before him gloriously naked. He couldn’t stop staring. Her skin was smooth and her full breasts sat high, generous dark pink nipples erect in the evening air. Generous. Despite her slim frame, it was the word that best fit her. Generous. Luxurious. Decadent. Her head fell forward slightly, her hair tumbling across her face, and she held her arms out wide and spun slowly round.

‘How do you like your princess?’ She looked over her shoulder at him, her full lips slightly parted, her eyes challenging him from behind her hair.

‘I like her very much,’ he said. Her arse was round and firm. His balls ached and he throbbed with wanting to feel her from the inside; to ride her as she’d ridden that stallion. To tame her. ‘Now come to bed.’

‘Say please,’ she purred.

This wasn’t how he’d expected it to be at all. Where was his nervous bride? Why did he suddenly feel as if he were the one being seduced? He was the prince, the warrior; he’d faced things no man should ever see, but he suddenly felt weak. His mouth dried as lust overwhelmed him. ‘Please.’ The word was barely more than a whisper.

She smiled, the cat with the cream and came onto the bed on all fours, crawling towards him. He reached for her and pulled her close, one hand in her hair, his mouth seeking hers. Her tongue danced with his, and the air was filled with their hot breathing. His hand reached for her breast, feeling the warm weight of it and rolling her nipple hard between his fingers. She moaned slightly and bit down on his lip. He gasped, and in that moment she pulled away, leaving only the night air caressing his skin.

‘What are you . . .?’ The question faded as her tongue ran down his chest and into the coarse hairs at the base of his belly. Her soft, dark mane trailed behind her mouth like feathers over his skin. He couldn’t stand it. He was going to explode.