Page 4 of His Bound Bedmate

Instead I locked my hands behind my back. “What do you think is the most important aspect in choosing a wife?”

Without hesitation, she began to write in her beautiful, efficient hand. She dictated as she did. “Primary consideration should be intelligence. You wouldn’t be satisfied without a wife who could challenge you intellectually, who enjoyed the same things you did.”

“Ye ken me well,” I complimented her, adoring the way that blush crept up her stately neck. “What sorts of things do ye think we should both enjoy?”

Again, her pen scratched across the page. “Books. Reading. History and world events. Learning new things and enjoying that learning.”

I hummed in agreement. “Sharing such pleasures is vital to a successful partnership. I require a wife who wouldnae bore me. Education is important.”

“What level?” The pen lifted, as if waiting for my requirements.

“I would expect a learned wife. Although higher education isnae possible for most women, I would expect a woman who has studied extensively in her area of expertise.”

She made the notes, but hesitantly. Then, still staring at the notebook, she licked her lips. “Ah…Faencairn is a small country, Your High—Findlay. Requiring a college decree will severely limit your candidacy pool. I was only able to attend because Americans are more advanced when it comes to women’s education.”

Out of her line of sight, I smiled slightly. Aye. I ken. I knew which candidate I wanted, but needed to see if she was…amenable. “We’ll deal with that later. What’s next?”

She hesitated again, then began to write, but slower this time. “Appearance. As a princess of Faencairn, she needs to be poised and attractive—”

“Nay,” I cut her off with a bark, and liked the way she didn’t flinch, but immediate lifted the pen, gaze demur. “My wife’s appearance matters to nae one but myself.”

“Yes,” she agreed, subdued. Dragging the pen’s nib across what she’d just written, striking it out, she asked without looking up at me, “What are your preferences for her appearance?”

Excellent. Millicent could understand my reasoning, and adjust accordingly.

“She must match me in height, so I dinnae need to lean down to address her.” To kiss her. “I have a preference for darker coloring.”

Millicent’s writing became slower as I dictated, and I assumed it was because she was realizing I could be describing her.

“And her—her build, Your Highness?”

Yers. “Thin, but not waifish. Lithe. I have nae need for a big arse or big tits.” Knowing I was being deliberately crude, I hid my smile as the pen skipped across the paper. “In fact, as far as I’m concerned, more than a handful is a waste.”

She made a slight choking noise as she wrote, and I knew it was in reaction to my words, in realization that I was describing her. From where I stood, looming over her, I could glance down the line of her blouse. I knew her tits were small and perky and just begging for a man’s mouth.

I leaned down, one hand on the back of her chair and one hand beside her notebook, ostensibly to peer at what she was writing, but really so I could inhale her scent deeply.

And what I smelled pleased me. She was wearing one of the plain skirts she preferred, and I could see that her knees were pressed tightly together beneath the petticoats. Very tight.

Still, that didn’t help mask the indisputable scent of arousal. My Millicent was turned on by my nearness, and her cunny was sending out the pheromones to tell me so.

I couldn’t wait to taste them.

Oh, this is going to be worth the wait.

“Education and appearance,” I muttered, pretending great interest in what she’d written already. “But compatibility should be next.”

“Co—compatibility?”

“Aye.”

I dragged out the word and saw her shiver slightly. I leaned closer until my lips were only inches from her ear and my breath skimmed the small hairs at the base of her neck. I kept my attention on the notebook, where she was writing “Compatibility”, but watched her from the corner of my eye.

“You see, Millicent… I have certain requirements when it comes to a sexual relationship, and I expect my wife to understand them.”

Slowly, she wrote “Requirements?” and I could smell the sharp tinge of desire rolling off her.

Aye, she was attracted to me. But was she ready for everything I would demand?

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