Cool night air cascaded through the hall until it crept up her skirt. “Lela? My love? Are you up?” Relief flickered through her as she heard her husband’s voice. “I am in the morning room, Fonso.” She looked toward the door, and he was illuminated by the flames in the fireplace. She could smell the alcohol on him, and his staggered steps made her sigh in resignation. Married only three months, he still sought out the local tavern more than he did her bed. “I need you now, love.” She doubted he would be capable, but she put her sewing aside and rose to her feet. “Come to bed.” He moved with incredible speed. “No. Now.” Lela squeaked in surprise as he pinned her to the wall near the fireplace. His hand clawed at her skirt and he forced himself past her resistance, pounding against her in a fever of motion. Lela ignored the discomfort and tried to sooth her husband by stroking his head and neck as he thrust into her.
