She rubbed her cheek against him like an affectionate cat. “None indeed,” she said, using the same volume. “And you? Are you suffering ill effects of our wedding night?”
“I am, Jane,” he said, summoning the courage to be honest with his bride.
Her eyes flew to his, concern marring her smooth brow. “My love?”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” said Sebastian. “About what we shared last night.”
“It was very nice, wasn’t it?”
“For me, it was more than nice,” he replied. “But I fear that I have done you a disservice because I wish for you to see the act in stronger terms than merely nice.”
Jane traced the folds of her husband’s cravat. “I hope that, in time, as I gain more experience in our marital bed, I’ll satisfy you in every way,” she said.
“No, hush, you’re too good already,” he said. “I find myself both unequal to you and hard at the thought of what you did to me on your first night as a married woman.”
“Sebastian, I hope you don’t think that I come to our marriage with…” she said, fidgeting in agitation, “with experience of the bedchamber. I expected to bleed more and feel great pain, but please trust that I came to you as a maid.”
He cradled his precious bride’s head to his chest, hoping to reassure her. “Everything was just as it should be last night, and I’ll never forget the gift you gave me,” he said tenderly. “I only hope to prove your equal in the bedchamber.”
“It is I who is fortunate to have a virile husband,” she said, sliding her hand down the front of his waistcoat until it brushed against the placket of his breeches.
“I would like nothing more than to unbutton my trousers, but they must stay on today,” he said.
“Are you sore as well, darling?”
“You are sore? But you said you suffered no ill effects?” he asked in consternation.
“That is to be expected, isn’t it?” she said. “I was told that a few days of soreness can be anticipated, and I should bathe in a herbal tincture that Mrs. Meers vouched would allow me to move comfortably after the wedding night.”
“Your poor pussy,” he said. “I’m tempted to lick it better, but I fear I’d be unable to resist the urge to test your aching little hole.”
“You say such things and this storeroom grows quite hot,” she said, burying her face in his cravat.
“Do your lips swell in anticipation of receiving my cock, Janie?”
“My lips?” she said, discreetly moistening her lips with her tongue.
“The lips of your cunny,” he said, his voice rough.
She raised her head to look into his eyes questioningly.
“Would that this room had a mirror. I’d show you the wonders below your own skirts,” he said. “No matter.”
He cast about the shelves, looking at bottles. “These, bay leaves,” he said. “Imagine these are the lips of your exquisite quim.”
“Bay leaves?” she questioned.
“Close enough,” he said, plucking two from the bottle. “My cock threatens to punch through the fabric of my trousers, so I may not be selecting the best herb, but it shall suffice for an afternoon anatomy lesson.”
“I do like you teaching me, Sebastian,” said Jane.
“Then watch closely, my love, because you’re going to receive instruction on your own pleasure,” he said, beginning to regain confidence in his own prowess. “These leaves represent the leaves or lips of your flower.”
Jane nodded, making a note on a fresh piece of paper.
“Are you taking notes on an erotic lesson?” asked Sebastian, his eyebrows flying to his hairline.
“Coded notes,” said Jane, showing him the page. “Using the cipher we established so we could pass notes during musicales.”
