The first time they were able to share a bed together was the night of their wedding and Jason learnt, yet again, something new about his wife.

She snored.

Luckily, it was a perplexing sound.

Perplexing in a sense that it was strangely cute.

Naked, he turned on his side to examine her. Nicola Blackwood slept in a riotous mess of hair and limbs. Where she was a prim and proper lady in the drawing rooms of England, in the bedroom she was a five-point star, splayed against the linen in wild abandon. The sheet had draped low over her hips as she lay on her stomach, one side of her cheek smashed gracelessly against his pillow that compressed her lips into a spectacular O.

She must be, Jason mused as he scrutinized his wife (partly with wonder, partly with amusement), having the best sleep of her life which was very likely considering the arduous bouts of love-making that had kept them up until the crack of dawn.

Tenderly, he pushed a tendril of hair that was flapping against her lips with every breath she took and pushed it behind her ear. His body stirred just at the recollection of her, of her nude in his bed beside him, at the memory of her mouth around a very hard and erect part of him while her lust-filled eyes gazed up at him, and he wondered if he would ever get enough of her.

Doubtful, as a hoarse sound of pleasure rumbled in his chest, shifting closer to her so that the warmth of her body pressed against his, and he allowed his fingers to stray down the gentle slope and line of her spine, toying with the edge of her sheet as it rested at the base of the curve of her bottom.

She stirred sleepily and her gentle snores stopped entirely, the rhythm of her breathing changing. Jason leaned closer, nuzzling those lips that had caused him such wonderful torment a few hours earlier, and she made a sound of contentment against him, turning to her side and snuggling against him.

God, if this wasn't heaven, he wasn't sure he wanted to find out what was. Overwhelmed with her hair, her lovely floral scent, Jason was a lost man. He draped an arm over her waist, pulling her closer against him, and when her thigh brushed against that insurgent part of him, her eyes fluttered open.

Nicola blinked up at him a few times, a sleepy, languorous smile tilting her lips. She looked devastatingly content in his arms. "Good morning, darling," he murmured, dropping his lips to the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth, lingering there suggestively for a moment.

"Good-" She gasped wildly then, lurching upright with a suddenness that jarred his chin when it thudded with her shoulder. He would have admired the way her breasts gave a delightful jiggle with the movement, but he was smarting from the abrupt interruption of his administrations in the art of morning seduction. "Morning? What time is it?"

She flew from the bed then, naked, and began searching through the debris of their clothing littering the floor of his chambers. "This is not," Jason muttered churlishly as he sat up and studied her, bracing his elbows on his drawn-up knees, "how I expected the first time I woke up next to you as my wife to transpire."

"The time!" Nicola pressed her gold wedding gown to her bosom, glaring at him through a curtain of russet tresses. "The time, good God, Jason! Where is my trousseau? Do I have no clothes here?"

He cocked his head to the side, considering that. "I suppose they would have been brought to your chambers in the other wing," he said thoughtfully. "Seems unnecessary to me, really. I shall have your belongings brought into mine today."

She had dropped to her knees while he had been talking, her hands scrambling around in the garments on the floor before her, but then she stilled and stared at him sharply. "You wish for me to stay here?" she asked, shocked. "In your private chambers?"

"Bit of a waste that you have your own since you'll be spending every night here, more than likely naked."

She blushed prettily at that. "I think I would like that," she admitted, throwing him a sheepish smile, but as soon as the expression entered her features, it disappeared again as she began her frantic search for her undergarments.

"Whatever are you in such a rush for?" he demanded.

She didn't look up at him as she pilfered a few more items and then jumped to her feet, beginning to yank on each piece of clothing with clumsy, rushed gestures. "Your grandmother," she grated, "who is no doubt awaiting us to attend her downstairs."

"Us?"

She was stuffing her head through her chemise as she bestowed on him the next glower. "I can not believe I have to walk through this entire house in my wedding gown, Jason," she bemoaned, irked, "which everyone saw me retire in the evening prior."

"Pfft, as if they don't know what happens on the wedding night, love."

"Yes, well, we don't need to be so brazen about it." She plunked her hands on her hips, looking on the ground once more and bent down to pick up a stocking. She began to hop on one foot as she thrust the other into the delicate garment. "You should make yourself presentable," Nicola told him, panting slightly. "Wilhelmina wants to see you, too. The both of us, in fact. You have also been asked to meet with Mr Southill this afternoon, as well."

Jason ran a hand through his hair and gave his wife a harassed look. "I'd much rather ignore the lot of them and get you back in bed."

Her smile was wry. "So do I, but I suppose being married to a marquis is going to be a busy affair, him being a man who needs a lot of management."

"Oh, indeed. And just what exactly are we meeting Wilhelmina about?" Jason swung his legs out of bed, stood, and prowled after his busybody little wife. She snapped to attention at his advance, holding up her hands to fend him off while a smile trembled on her lips.

"I believe she wishes to discuss the matter of Northwick heirs," she provided, then squealed as he hauled her over his shoulder and carried her back to bed, tossing her emphatically back onto the mattress. "And how best," Nicola continued, laughing as he leaned down over her, bracing her wrists in his hands and pinning them above her head, "to ensure a speedy conception."

His eyes went wide at that. "I would like to do nothing less than discuss that with my grandmother, Nicki," he said dryly, "but rest assured, the matter is being given due consideration. Dare I even ask what the hell Nate wants with me?"

She shrugged, her eyes dropping to his lips. "I haven't the faintest idea, though no doubt it would be something to do with Blanche."

He made a disparaging sound. Between Blanche, Diana and Wilhelmina, the women in his family seemed intent on sabotaging his every intent at bedding his wife at every hour of the day. For now, at least, Nicola was happily pressed under him and as he lowered his lips to devour hers, she seemed to forget all about her meeting with Wilhelmina.

And if she continued to pose such a distraction to important matters a marquis is obliged to attend, life with Nicola would be immensely entertaining and pleasurable, indeed.

Later, when they did finally attend to Wilhelmina, and because Nicola was still passing through the house in her wedding gown, his grandmother had been suitably affronted.

Much to Jason's amusement.

~The End~