I’m delighted to be welcoming Jaye Peaches today. Her latest book, Sophia and the Duke was released last week, on the same day as mine, A Scandalous Arrangement. What better way to celebrate than by a blog swap?
Over to you, Jaye…
Hi Ashe! We’ve swapped blogs for the day to share our historical romances. I’m at the beginning of the 18th Century during the Regency with Sophia and the Duke, Ashe is steeped in Victorians with A Scandalous Arrangement and discussing sexy underwear on my blog.
The poor girls of those earlier eras had little idea what to expect on their wedding nights and even after the first time, they probably experienced little pleasure if their husband showed no inclination to teach them anything other than rudimentary sex. An aristocratic young woman could be especially ignorant as they lived a sheltered life and Sophia is typical with little expectation of any fun to be had in the bedroom. Here she is, on her second marriage already at the age of twenty-two to a Duke who has lived the life of a Colonial fur trapper in Canada.
He’s expecting a practised lover….
He didn’t bother to knock on her bedroom door. She was his wife now, and he could enter as he pleased. What had he expected to find? Sophia knelt by the bed waiting demurely, or lying naked on the bed, perhaps on her side with a welcoming smile?
Neither. Sophia was tucked in bed, the bedcover as high as her chin. Only as he slowly approached and saw the cuffs of her sleeves did he notice she wore a night-shift under the covers.
“Is something wrong, Sophia? Are you unwell?” He peered closer at her complexion. In the middle of summer, sufficient daylight meant candles were unnecessary until late into the evening. Her face was flushed and her hair loose and flowing across the pillow, forming a halo about her timid face. She didn’t appear to be ill.
“I’m quite healthy,” she replied softly.
“Then, why are you in bed?” He started to unbutton his jacket, wondering if she understood what he expected of her.
She chewed on her lip. “Because, it’s where I should be, is it not?” Her voice wavered and her eyes reminded him of a startled rabbit.
Nathanial with his fingers on the last button, paused in his undressing. A sudden realisation crossed his mind and it saddened him to think it might be true. He perched on the edge of the bed. Having not had sex in months—the longest period of abstinence of his adult life, barring his mourning period for Louise—with gritted determination, he stowed his urgent need to ravish her. He couldn’t condone a lust driven consummation without acquainting himself with her sexual capabilities. With a deep breath, he began to tackle the awkward topic.
“Tell me, my dearest, when Percy fucked—”
Her cheeks flushed deepest red. “Nathanial! That word is most inappropriate.”
Nathanial smiled. “I think not, but for the moment I will bear in mind your sensitivity to coarse language. When you and Percy had intercourse, what did you do?”
The crimson cheeks remained bright and her eyes had widened. “I can’t… you have to know?”
“Yes. Tell me. That way I know what you expect from me.” He leaned forward. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. I’m a man of the world remember?”
She looked away from him, as if she couldn’t speak of such things to his face and rattled off her reply. “I would lie in bed, like this and wait. When Percy came, he would slip under the covers, lying over me, press his… thing inside and…. Then when he was done, he’d kiss me good-night and go.”
Nathanial leapt to his feet. “My God. He didn’t touch your breasts or use his fingers to rouse your desires?” He ran his hand through his hair, astounded by her little tale of sexual disaster.
She shook her head.
“And every time, like this?”
She nodded, her chin disappearing under the covers as she moved.
“Even the first time?”
A tiny nod and her eyes glistened with tears. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Wrong?” he boomed and she shrivelled further under the covers. He crouched by the side of the bed, bringing his face level to hers. “My darling. How shameful of Percy to treat you so. It must have hurt, especially the first time.” Percy himself must have little idea what was expected of a man when pleasuring his woman and worse, had done nothing to rectify his ignorance.
“It was not pleasant. I cried a little. However, he most earnestly told me he found me attractive, which I believed to be true in that his member seemed easily charged, perhaps, too eager—I don’t know what is natural— so I adapted.”
Nathanial chuckled, shaking his head. His amusement wasn’t at her expense but her pathetic chose of word—adapted—as if she was expected nothing else from her former lover.
“How did you adapt?”
“I… I…” Her arms shot out from under the cover and she buried her face behind her hands. “I touch myself,” she blurted, so quickly, he barely heard what she said.
“While he fucked you?” Coarseness be damned. There was nothing genteel about Percy’s technique for love-making. Nathanial had his own preferences and they included a hard fuck when needed, but he’d never take an unprepared woman. She had to have been ready for it, able to take his thick cock without fear or resistance. If he told a woman to spread her legs and open up for him, it was because she had known him well, and had learnt to appreciate his ways and he knew she’d be wet and begging for him in an instant.
Poor Sophia. “No,” she wailed softly. “On my own. I touch myself between my legs until I feel satisfied. Percy never knew. I didn’t tell him.”
Nathanial hung his head for a few seconds. Then, sensing it was time to move on from the sad past, he prised away her hands from her face. There were tears on her cheeks and he bend over to kiss them away. “Sweet Sophia,” he murmured, between pecks. “Let’s treat this night as if you were a virgin again.”
“How?” she reached up and touched his face. “Please, I do want this. I’m been desperate for you ever since you spanked me.”
“Indeed,” he grinned. “As have I.” He pulled away the covers and took her hand. “Stand up.”
After the passing of her husband, the elderly Duke of Brokenhurst, twenty-two-year-old Sophia chafes at her family’s expectations during her lengthy mourning period. When she is free to re-emerge in society at last, at her grandmother’s insistence she entertains the courtship of Nathaniel Hartwell, a distant cousin of the old duke and the man next in line for the title.
To her shock, Sophia learns that Nathaniel has spent the last eight years living as a trapper and fur trader in the mountains of Canada, isolating himself from the world after the tragic death of the woman he loved. Though he is a rough, uncivilised man, his devilishly handsome looks and commanding presence excite her in a way nothing ever has before.
Sophia sets out to transform the new duke into someone suitable for polite society, but when her comments become disrespectful and mocking Nathaniel takes issue with her behaviour. Almost before she knows it, she is over his lap and her aristocratic bottom has been bared for a sound spanking.
Knowing that it is the right choice for all concerned, Nathaniel asks her to be his wife, but despite the fact that their marriage begins as one of convenience he is determined to show Sophia the intense pleasure a strong man’s dominant lovemaking can bring her. Though her spoiled attitude occasionally earns her a bright red, well-spanked bottom, as the weeks pass her desire for him grows ever stronger. But can love truly bridge the gulf between people from such different worlds?
Publisher’s Note: Sophia and the Duke is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, anal play, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.