"I've heard that bleeding can occur, especially if it's the first time." Adelina kept her voice measured, clinical even, though her heart hammered against her ribs. "So... is simply sleeping in the same bed enough to fool the servants? In any case—"
"In any case?" Alexio's voice cut through her rambling, the counter-question hanging in the air like a challenge.
Adelina considered her words carefully, acutely aware of how close he was, how the mattress dipped slightly under his weight. She swallowed.
"Well... I thought it would be appropriate to do *something*."
"Something?" Alexio's brow furrowed, genuine confusion flickering across his features. He shifted, propping himself up until his eyes were level with hers, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his irises. "What do you mean by 'something,' exactly?"
His gaze was piercing, demanding clarification she wasn't sure she could give without combusting from embarrassment. Adelina felt heat creeping up her neck but forced herself to continue.
"It's just... until you actually... *put it there*... anything else should suffice." The words tumbled out in a rush, her face burning. But she lifted her chin with what she hoped was decisiveness. "I believe it would be prudent. No—let's proceed, Duke of Pembroke!"
Silence.
The kind of silence that stretches and pulls taut, filling every corner of the room until it becomes suffocating. Alexio simply stared at her, expression unreadable, and Adelina felt her boldness wither under his prolonged scrutiny.
"Duke of Pembroke?" she ventured, her voice smaller now.
Only then did he speak.
"Miss Sophie will attend to the sheets." His tone was matter-of-fact, almost gentle. "No one would find it suspicious if the princess's personal maid handled the cleaning. I've already given her instructions. Were you not informed?"
"What..." The word escaped as barely more than a breath.
Adelina felt the heat spread from her face down her neck, across her chest, flooding her entire body with a crimson flush so intense she could feel it pulsing beneath her skin. It was impossible to imagine what her normal complexion even looked like anymore.
_Sophie!_
She clutched the blanket to her chest, her mind screaming the maid's name in a mixture of indignation and betrayal.
"I had no idea," she managed, her voice strained. "She never mentioned anything of the sort."
*My God.* All that worry over nothing—and she'd made such a brazen proposal because of it. Even if she threw herself from the terrace into the frigid winter sea, she doubted the water could cool the fire consuming her now.
"In that case, there's no problem." She lay back against the pillows with forced composure, yanking the blanket up to her chin. Her eyes squeezed shut. "I said something foolish. Please, pretend you heard nothing."
Even with her eyes closed, she could feel his gaze on her—a physical weight, unhurried and considering.
"Princess."
The calm timbre of his voice made her eyes flutter open despite herself. The dynamic had shifted. Now it was Alexio who loomed above her, looking down with an expression she couldn't quite decipher.
"I... it was merely a misunderstanding," she said quickly.
"Yes." A slight smirk curved his lips. "I believe you suggested sharing *sexual pleasure* due to a misunderstanding."
The words hung in the air, deliberate and provocative. Adelina shot upright before she could stop herself, the blanket pooling at her waist.
"Duke, is it truly necessary to phrase it in such a manner?"
"I simply repeated what I heard from the princess herself."
"When did I—!" Her voice rose sharply before she caught herself, forcing it back down to a heated whisper. "When did I propose anything of *that* nature to you?"
"Princess." Alexio's tone shifted to something almost instructional, though his eyes glittered with amusement. "What you described—people call it the sharing of sexual pleasure. Or, more plainly, sexual intercourse." He paused, letting each word land. "*Sex*, Princess."
Adelina's mouth opened, then closed. No sound emerged.
She had never seen this side of him before. The composed, calculating Duke of Pembroke, wielding vulgarity like a weapon designed specifically to disarm her.
As if reading her thoughts with perfect clarity, he reached out and pressed a finger to the furrow between her brows.
"I couldn't have imagined the princess was so... uninhibited." His voice dropped, silk over steel. "Had I known earlier, our contract might have included rather different terms."
"Duke of Pembroke, stop mocking me." Adelina swatted his hand away, frustration bleeding into her words. But Alexio caught her wrist mid-motion, his grip gentle yet firm, and drew her toward him.
"If I'm not mocking you..." His eyes held hers, and something in their depths shifted—darkened. The playfulness remained, but beneath it lay something far more serious. More *hungry*. "...may I continue?"
Adelina's breath caught.
"Is there a man alive," he continued, his voice low and deliberate, "who would refuse such bold seduction from his lawful wife? In their marriage bed? In the dead of night?"
"I *explained*—" She tried to steady her voice, to match his composure. "It wasn't seduction. It was a misunderstanding."
"Ah." He sighed—theatrical, exaggerated—and released her hand with apparent reluctance. "How cruel you are, shaking your husband's heart so carelessly."
Adelina exhaled, relief loosening the tension in her shoulders.
Then his head dipped, and his lips pressed against her neck.
"Ah—!"
The sound escaped before she could stop it—a sharp, startled gasp that seemed to belong to someone else entirely. Her eyes flew wide, disbelieving. Alexio's lips, which she'd assumed had merely brushed her skin in passing, pressed down again. Firmer. More deliberate.
"Duke of Pembroke!"
Her hands flew to his shoulders, pushing—or trying to. But he didn't budge. Instead, as if in protest of her resistance, his teeth grazed the sensitive curve of her neck, followed by the slow, wet drag of his tongue against her skin.
A shiver raced down her spine.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, nails digging into fabric as the unfamiliar sensation overwhelmed her—warm and damp and *intimate* in a way she'd never experienced. Alexio seemed to interpret her grip as encouragement. His fingers found the thin strap of her nightgown and tugged.
The silk slipped away.
When the fabric fell, exposing the soft swell of her breasts to the cool night air, something in his gaze *changed*. The playful edge vanished, replaced by an intensity that made her stomach clench.
His lips, still warm from her neck, began their descent. Down past her collarbone. Lower.
When his tongue traced a slow path across her breast, when his lips sealed against the delicate skin and *sucked*, Adelina heard herself make a sound she didn't recognize—something between a whimper and a plea.
A distinct crimson mark bloomed where his mouth had been.
"Ngh—"
She tried to pull away, her body arching backward in a futile attempt to escape the overwhelming sensations. Her retreat only broke the contact momentarily; Alexio followed, unhurried, inevitable.
Her balance gave way.
Her back met the mattress with a soft *thump*, and suddenly he was above her—between her legs, his weight pinning her in place as his lips continued their exploration, leaving a constellation of red marks across the pale canvas of her skin.
Adelina squeezed her eyes shut, but that only made it *worse*.
Every sensation intensified. The wet sound of his tongue against her flesh. The whisper of sheets shifting beneath them. The ragged edge of her own breathing. Even the distant crash of waves against the shore seemed to pulse in rhythm with her heartbeat, blurring the line between reality and dream.
**KNOCK.**
The sharp sound shattered the spell.
Adelina's eyes flew open, and the world rushed back—vivid and immediate. She turned her head toward the noise. The terrace door, thrown wide by the sea wind, continued to sway and rattle against its frame.
_That's what that sound was._
The realization brought a strange clarity, and with it, an acute awareness of her position. The man above her. The weight of his body between her thighs.
Slowly, carefully, she turned her head to look up.
Alexio hovered over her, his expression unreadable. Their eyes met, and she watched his fingers drift lazily across the expanse between her collarbones and the swell of her breasts—not claiming, just... tracing.
Before she could gather her scattered thoughts into anything resembling a protest, he reached down and straightened her fallen nightgown, tugging the strap back into place. The corners of his mouth lifted—barely, but unmistakably.
"The evidence of a whirlwind romance shouldn't be confined to the sheets alone, should it?" His voice was light, conversational, as if they were discussing the weather. "The servants would find it strange if there were no marks visible during your bath."
Adelina stared at him, her mind slowly catching up.
"So you believe that gives you the right to commit such... such *indecent* acts, Duke of Pembroke?"
"Thorough preparation is never wasted." He shrugged, entirely unrepentant. "Besides, it was the princess who made the initial suggestion. It would be a shame to let such an opportunity go to waste, wouldn't it?"
Despite everything—the embarrassment, the frustration, the lingering heat still coursing through her veins—Adelina found herself laughing. A short, incredulous sound.
"Now you truly resemble a villain, Duke of Pembroke."
"Because I truly am a bad person."
"You are utterly shameless."
"Unfortunately for you, Princess, I am no gentleman." His eyes glinted in the candlelight, unapologetic and faintly amused. "There's nothing wrong with being shameless when it serves one's purposes."
He shifted his weight, shrugging with an ease that bordered on insolent. Adelina's hands rose to push him away, her patience finally exhausted—
And then she froze.
Her palms, pressed flat against his chest, met bare skin.
Warm. Solid. *Bare*.
Somewhere between climbing into bed and pinning her beneath him, the Duke of Pembroke had removed his shirt.
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