“The object of this marriage is to get you with child.” “Yes.” Her voice was drowsy. “I seem to recall that was our bargain.” Her head tilted to the side, and he ran his tongue along the elongated slope of her neck. She tasted both tart and sweet. Delicious. “So if we do this twice a day,” he murmured, “that would make our objective twice as likely.” “I . . . I suppose it would.” “No supposing about it.” He tweaked her nipple. “It’s simple mathematics.” After a pause, he heard a little smile in her voice. “Is it, my fawn?” Saucy, impudent wench.
