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Simply because he’d found his desire unquenchable and his need of deeper origin than he’d realized, did not mean his wife was experiencing the same.
    He placed his hand on her shoulder and absently stroked the side of her throat with his thumb. “I shall visit you often.” He felt, rather than heard, her deeply indrawn breath.
    Olivia leaned into him. “How often is ‘often’ to you?”
    “I should pose that question to you, sweet,” he replied, passing the decision to her, while in truth he knew he would crave her and seek her out like a thirsty man would water. “We are in this marriage together.”
    She hesitated before speaking. “Should you decide to come home at least every six months, you will be able to ascertain if I am breeding or not.”
    Sebastian stilled. “Breeding.” Good God. He could imagine it, picture it clearly—Olivia increasing with his child.
    “You’re hurting me,” she whispered, her hand prying at his fingers on her shoulder.
    “I’m sorry.” Dazed, he handed her the bottle and began to rub the marks left by his fingertips. “You startled me.”
    “So I gathered. But it was you who said that one of my duties would be to bear your heirs.”
    Duty. Not pleasure. Heirs. Not children.
    Suddenly there was a distinction between them, one that irritated him and made him restless.
    He reached for her hand. “I should like to retire.”
    Turning, she searched his face. He could feel the air altering around them, shifting even as their relationship did. What was happening? Sebastian stood rigid under her scrutiny. What did she see in him with those dark eyes that bored right through him?
    He was profoundly relieved when Olivia placed her hand in his and followed him to their bed, where heady pleasure and drugging forgetfulness awaited them.
     
    Sebastian stared up at the ruby red velvet canopy and sighed with contentment.
    Olivia’s heated breath puffed across the head of his cock. “What are you thinking?” she asked.
    He glanced down to where his wife lay prone between his legs. She’d spent the last hour in studious examination of his member, tracing every vein, caressing every bit of his hard length with her hands and mouth, purring her delight like a cat with cream. She made him feel supremely masculine; a man appreciated completely by his mate, her admiration a welcome salve after a lifetime of feeling insignificant. At least in this one endeavor, that of being Olivia’s husband, he had not been found lacking. “You,” he answered. “This bed. Our marriage.”
    She crossed her hands on his upper thigh and rested her chin upon them. “Do you have regrets?” she asked in a steady voice, even as her expressive eyes showed her worry.
    He reached down to caress her tumbled hair. “No. Come closer.”
    Olivia rose to her hands and knees, her full breasts swaying as she climbed along the length of his body. She’d become quite comfortable with her nakedness over these last weeks, and he appreciated their growing familiarity.
    She purred with pleasure as she draped her body over his. He reached up and pulled her hair to the side so he could nuzzle her throat unhindered.
    “Sebastian.”
    “Umm?”
    “Tell me about your family.”
    He sighed. “They are a pack of vultures, sweeting. The entire lot of them.”
    “Surely there must be some members of your family whose company you enjoy.”
    “I was quite fond of my brother, Edmund.”
    She frowned. “What about your mother?”
    He stared at the canopy again. “There is nothing I can tell you, other than she was very beautiful, and I know this only because I’ve seen her portrait. I don’t remember her at all.”
    “How did she die?”
    He slid his hands through her hair and cupped the back of her head. “I don’t know that she is dead. She ran off when I still an infant.”
    “Oh, Sebastian.” Having caught the bitterness in his voice, hers filled with sympathy.
    He choked out a laugh. “Don’t pity me, Olivia.