JUS PRIMAE NOCTIS
TO INVOKE THE RIGHT TO THE BRIDE'S FIRST NIGHT...
Handsome and virile, Baron Fabian Deschamps takes pity on a virgin bride callously treated by her old and nasty groom on the morning of their wedding, and he invokes his right to her first night to give the arrogant bastard a lesson and his virgin bride a pleasurable seduction she hopefully will never forget.
After finally spending her first night with the Baron, Fabian does something Isabelle never expects he will do – he bought her freedom by paying for her bride-price! But she cannot go back to her family when everyone knows he has essentially consummated a marriage that has become null and void. Although she offers to work for him to pay for what she owes him, she has officially become his mistress, too. They cannot control the fires of passion that erupt whenever they are alone. They have no desire to try.
How long will it be until the end? Can she survive being cast away, now that she has already fallen in love with him?
His eyebrows rose in surprise. "You will rather work?"
She nodded vigorously. "Yes! You bought my freedom, my Lord. I am at your service."
He shook his head. "But again, like last night, I will give you another choice. You can prefer to be free, or you can stay here and... work, for me." He was frowning, as if he had planned to say something else.
She also shook her head. "I can be free while working for you. Your servants... they are content and happy while they work for you. I can do the same."
He frowned still. But they were still very close to each other and he had not let her go. The awareness that had heightened since the knight De Montpessat had left them seemed to grow more between them, and she found herself breathless. She knew he noticed it, too.
"I still want you," he suddenly said in a voice gone hoarse.
She gulped. It sounded like thunder between them and she closed her eyes, recognizing how her senses were heightened again just by being this close to him. "I still want you, too, my Lord," she admitted helplessly.
"I've been thinking of you since I left," he admitted in a broken voice.
She looked at him worriedly. She did not want to see him so weak. "Is that a bad thing, my Lord?"
“It can be. I said you are free, but the thought of you being in another man’s arms...”
She realized what he meant. “Oh no! It was not like that. I stumbled when I stood up when I saw you and Sir Bertrand only held me so I will not fall.”
“I know that. Bertrand is a friend. I understand why he was taken with your beauty, but he will not make advances to a beautiful woman he finds in the Manor if he is not sure you’re not with me.”
“He indeed asked what I was to you. I said I was not with you... like that. But what could I say? It wasn’t truly his business why I’m here.”
“The son of a drunken braggart.”
She smiled. “You can’t be jealous, my Lord? After what we just did?”
He took a few breaths before speaking. “I believed him when he said he found you here alone and looking miserable. You have a reason to be. But I still did not like it when I saw you being held by him.”
“Yes... call me by my name.”
“What are we going to do?”
Instead of answering, he lowered his head and with a groan, he kissed her, hungrily and passionately, and she kissed him back just as heatedly. He lowered her back on the seat. There was no talk as they kissed and she leaned back as his hands started to intimately probe her body.