He reached out and pulled a rug over us.

He then reached out and tugged the cord for a servant.

I moved my head out of his neck at that.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Calling a servant,” he told me what I already knew.

“I know, but why?”

“I do not feel like getting up, and the fire needs stirred and fed,” he answered. “What I do feel like is eating my wife’s cunt, which I will do, once the fire is stirred and fed.”

I squirmed against him, shocked at his frank language, but nevertheless aroused by it.

I saw the satisfaction hit his face at my response, but he did not make note of it.

He continued, “Then we will nap. After that, we will have dinner abed. And after that, you will please me again, while I please you. And a servant needs to know our plans as they will be required to feed us.”

“I’m not sure they know how to cook,” I muttered.

“The fare they’ve provided I have noted has been substandard. Your father does not have skills in hiring staff.”

What he had skills at was hiring staff that he thought might turn a king’s eye.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Come!” Mars commanded.

The door opened, and I pressed closer to him, not looking in that direction.

His arms held me tighter.

“The fire needs stirred and fed,” he ordered. “And my queen and I will be enjoying our bed for the rest of the day. Bring wine, cheese and bread now. Fresh water and cloths in the queen’s boudoir. Later, we will be requiring supper. We shall ring when this is desired.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” I heard, and I recognized the voice. It was Olive.

She didn’t sound happy.

She would be less happy after Mars went on.

“I would suggest whoever cooks does so with the heretofore undemonstrated desire to please us, for if we dislike the fare we’re offered, whoever made it will be dismissed.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” came from the direction of the fire.

Hmm.

Definitely unhappy.

I grinned.

“Don’t dally,” Mars finished.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

She did not dally for, shortly after, I heard the door close.

The minute it did, Mars pushed us down in the bed and rolled me to my back on the mattress with him atop me.

“I must clean us up,” he murmured. “Hopefully there’s still water in my cabinet.”

“All right.”

He touched his lips to mine and made to pull away.

But I moved quickly to wrap my fingers around either side of his neck and he stopped.

“Thank you for being so understanding,” I said softly.

His expression grew tender (or more so).

“If I am ever not this, Silence, that would be a failure as well,” he replied. “One that you should not abide, no?”