“Caveman?” he’d bellowed as he stood. “As in prehistoric beast?”

“Aye. You seem to be a direct descendant,” she’d spit in his face.

She’d jumped back as he swept everything atop his desk to the floor. Then she had run for the door as he’d vaulted and gave chase. He’d caught her as she reached the latch, grabbing her wrists and pulling her back.

“Sit down, love,” he’d commanded, pushing her, though she complied. She’d trembled beneath his touch, as desperate as he. His hand behind her head, fingers clutching her skull, he’d laid her atop the empty desk, untying the belt of her robe with his teeth.

“You provoke me on purpose, wife,” he’d growled.

“Maybe,” she’d said in a breathy voice. “Do you?”

“Aye,” he’d whispered, covering her mouth, his hands rough upon her body. Tasting and biting every inch of her, he’d sat in the chair again. Grabbing her legs, he’d dragged her closer and kissed the insides of her thighs. Then he’d spread her with his thumbs and feasted on her with his mouth.

“Let go, wife,” he’d whispered, moving his finger inside. She had, but still he had continued to make her surrender once again. He’d stood, slicking his hand with her wetness before covering himself. Then he’d watched as she did the same, moving her hand on her body before wrapping her fingers around his erection. He’d growled and pushed her back, entering her with such force they both cried out.

It took less than a minute—they’d released together and lay panting. “Brassy wench,” he’d grumbled. “You do provoke me on purpose.”

“Aye, Greylen,” she’d admitted with a grin. “I do.”

“Greylen. Greylen.” Gwen rubbed his cheek, pulling him out of his reverie.

He shook his head and grinned. “Sorry.”

“You were a million miles away.” Gwen smiled.

“Nay.” He leaned in and kissed her. “Come,” he said, circling her waist and helping her from the chest.

She sat on the trunk at the end of their bed, sipping the coffee that Anna had brought up earlier. Their servant knew when they left in the morning, and on each occasion a hot bath and coffee awaited their arrival.

“So, what’s on your schedule today?” she asked as he dressed.

“We ride the southern border. MacFale’s been tampering with the posts again, though he’s not desecrated anything.”

“Desecrate is a strong word, Greylen. Is he that bad?”

“Aye, he enjoys inflicting pain—on people and animals.”

“In that case, I don’t want you playing with him, understand?”

“Aye.” He laughed. “I’ll only play with my men—and you.” He laughed as he left the room, hearing her call out “good answer.”