Crawling Into Bed With Felicity Oakley and Nash Gretton
from Nash's Niche ( book four, Behind Closed Doors, the story of The Brigstock Family)
And a Good Book
Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Felicity: Always silk. It makes me feel much more sensual, and in touch with my romantic side. Yes I do have one, even if it's well hidden.
She pokes Nash, he grunts. "Huh? I didn't say a word. I prefer cotton, but I abide by my lady's rules. In this anyway.
What are you wearing?
Felicity *looks down* A muslin shift, with a chemise.
Nash: Much to my disgust. Chemises are worn simply to annoy men
Nash: I'm in working gear. Boots, breeches and a tweed thornproof jacket. I will be in noth...er a nightshirt I believe. Felicity however will stay clothed, or put on that voluminous thick nightrail, and my banyan over it.
What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?
Felicity Cheese, Fruit, and no bread. I hate crumbs under me. Or over me, or in places where someone thinks they should be nibbled or licked.
Nash Spoilsport. *he winks* But I always find crumbs. Cheese is very good for that.
If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?
Felicity... You tell him. I'm too much of a lady.
Nash *rolls eyes* Yes love. *they both burst out laughing*. A candle, no sorry three candles varying thickness, an inking set, scissors, and some silk scarves. Oh and ouff, er… nothing else. *aside* Love that elbow very nearly stopped us having any young Grettons.
Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?
Nash I get what's left.
Felicity it depends on the weather. I prefer to roll up with Nash, and then roll us both in the covers.
Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?
Felicity. Well if you do and he lets you I will be very upset. I do try and Nash does extract retribution.
Nash That's why you try.
Felicity So true
What are we reading? (include your cover art, buy links & excerpt)
Felicity *sigh* Oh it's our story. Nash's Niche... *jumps out of bed, does a little jig around the room and jumps back in* from www.evernightpublishing.com
A wee tease...
What is it?"
Nash looked in the direction she was pointing. Set on the table was a leather pouch, around seven inches long, and a mere one or so wide, with several bulging pockets. "An inking set. To mark skin."
He inclined his head. "Or animals. To show to whom they belong. You pierce the skin and add ink to where the puncture is. That leaves a permanent marking. My animals are valuable, and this
way I can prove they are indeed mine. There will be no thought of disputed ownership." He knew he sounded grim, but he had been duped once, when he'd first set up his pack. It would never happen again.
Madame Felice knelt up and stretched over him to lift the leather pouch. Nash had left it there the night before to remind himself to take it back to Rutland with him.
"So can we use it? On us? To celebrate tonight? For even if it matters little to you, it has shown me what lovemaking should be. If I never feel like this again, then I'll have something to remind me." She looked so eager, his heart jumped. It had meant something more than a fuck to him as well.
"Why will this be the only time? We have other nights," he told her, and watched her eyes cloud over.
"But this is our first." Her gaze skittered away from his. "However, if you feel differently that is fine."
His decision made, Nash lifted her from him. "Stay there whilst I get what we need." He collected cloths and water, scissors and razor, in short shrift. "So where shall we mark? I thought here." He ruffled the curls that covered her quim. "As close to heaven as we can make it."
She nodded and sighed. "How beautiful. Will you mark yourself the same?"
He shook his head and she went ashen.
"No, I won't mark myself. You'll do it for me. I will however do the shaving. I'm not sure how well you would operate a cut throat and strop, and I need my cock and balls to fill you again."
Her color returned and she giggled, even though her eyes were still shadowed by some indefinable sorrow. "Then who'll begin?"
"It's usually ladies first. Let me shave us both whilst you decide on the design." He cut her curls as short as he could. Her eyes widened as the cold steel skimmed over her skin. It seemed his lady was oh so receptive to that cold touch. If only he had some ice he could introduce her to many more sensations. Nash let the closed blades stroke her cleft, and laughed softly as she gasped and took a deep shuddering breath. It was with reluctance he put the scissors down and picked up the razor and strop and denuded a small circle of hair just above the entrance to her channel. He wanted to pin her under him, and tease every last inch of her with the chill of anticipation before showing her how heat and cold could work so well together.
She didn't move but watched him with wide eyes. Each scrape of the steel, each tiny piece of skin that showed under his blade, brought more tiny drops of perspiration to her skin. Her body had taken on a soft rosy sheen, her eyes cloudy with desire, and Nash wanted her with a need so fierce it took his breath away. Carefully he set the razor on the table and moved, to thrust his tongue between her lips. She met it with a determination to match his, and then to his delight, pinched one of his nipples. He had to force himself to move back.
"If we carry on no ink will be used, and you will be bare for nothing."