“Sire, it is very late,” Cole dared to admonish.
“It is.”
“After one!”
“Is it?”
“You need to sleep. You are stumbling.”
“I’ll sleep in a moment.”
“You’re going to need your strength for tomorrow night,” Cole hinted, voice light and teasing.
Girion nodded and shut himself in his room. As soon as he was there, he hurried to the bathing chamber, hands shedding clothes fast and carelessly.
He was hard and throbbing, and it was all he could do not to rush back to Jocasta’s room and ask if they shouldn’t practice consummating as well as kissing.
What had started off as split-second brushes of lips had turned into long, deep, tongue-tangling practices, with their hands trying to find the best spots to land.
His hand landed now around his thick, rigid member, pumping urgently as he remembered how her breasts pressed into his chest and her sweet, wet arousal perfumed the air.
She was ready for me. Wanted me. Or it could have been the act of kissing. What if that is all that is comfortable for her?
She can use her mouth on other parts, a little voice from the darker recesses of his mind hinted. Some men prefer a woman’s mouth to her slit.
The thought of Jocasta on her knees, looking up at him as she wrapped her full lips around his length, sent him groaning to his tub, arching back as he sent his seed down the drain.
And that was another problem. Just thinking of her mouth made him peak. Women needed more time and delicacy. The longer a man lasted, the more he was praised.
Now, in addition to worrying that Jocasta might request his attention out of obligation, he had to add the worry that he would hurt her with his size or disappoint her with his speed.
He let out a long sigh. Sleep was going to evade him.
JOCASTA WANTED TIMEto pace. To battle with her nerves until she’d beaten them fully.
No such luck. At eight in the morning, all and sundry burst in upon her, and before she knew it, she was fed, bathed, powdered, oiled, and attended to within an inch of her life. Her mother, Lady Somerlynn, and her two attendants were also undergoing similar attacks, Letty and Laren flying about them like manic wasps, with paint there, rouge here, pinning up a curl, pulling back a lock, lacing one’s waist tight, heaving one’s bosom higher.
“If I do not get out of this outfit soon, I will go quite mad,” Jocasta hissed.
Her mother, who had known nothing but hardship and struggle for the last thirty years, lolled like a contented cat as Letty massaged her scalp and set her hair.
“The dress is stunning. You look like a princess. Like a queen. I could never have dreamed it,” her mother sighed. “I wish your brothers could be here.”
Great. Now she was going to cry.
Amos’ talisman! She was going to give it to Girion after the ceremony. She should wrap it. Find a little box...
“I need a box and ribbon!” she gasped.
Everyone froze.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Jocasta needs a box and ribbon. Essa, Valeria, go and see if the guard at the door can get the steward to get a box. I’m sure there is a ribbon among Letty’s hair things,” Lady Somerlynn said calmly, coming to her side. “Nerves?” she whispered as the two bridal attendants scurried to the door.
“I just want it to be over. Not the marriage, the wedding. I don’t like people staring at me. I like doing something.”
“Well, the second you are united to Girion and become a member of the royal family of Caledon, your magic will start to nurture the land. The hot springs will start to come back to life. You will do something just by saying your vows. But if you are nervous about anything else, your mother and I could help.”
Jocsta smiled and gave the older woman a quick hug. “Thank you. I don’t have any questions yet.”
