ugh clenched teeth. I wondered why he held me in such a tight grip and why his muscles were so tensed. Then understanding dawned—he thought that what had been done to his mother had been done to Shelly. But his mother had been a noble, and no one should have touched her in such a way. Shelly was only a handmaid like me.
“She was his prize, Branford.” I knew he had to understand this. He had won many tournaments, as his titles proclaimed. He had to know this was not an uncommon prize for the winning knight. “He had every right—”
“Tell me his name,” Branford said, interrupting me. The words were again short and clipped, and his voice was tight.
“It was just a small tournament,” I said quietly, hoping to steer him from this path, but he would not have it.
“Alexandra, if I have to ask you again, I am not going to be pleased.”
I blanched.
“It was Sir Remy,” I said quietly. “He is King Edgar’s…”
“I know who he is,” Branford said curtly.
“He won many tournaments at Hadebrand,” I said.
“He’s won several in other kingdoms as well.”
“She said he was the same way with her…um…as he was in the battles.”
“My God,” Branford said under his breath. “No wonder you are so terrified. Is that all you have ever heard? That is your only knowledge?”
“Not…exactly,” I admitted.
“What else?”
“Just in passing…women would talk about the pain the first time and how the pleasure was all…was all for the, um…for the man.”
“For the man,” I heard Branford mumble softly. He breathed sharply through his nose and ran his hand through his hair. His gaze moved to mine, and he reached out to cup my face. “Do you remember what I told you before? I do not want to see you hurt. I only want to show you how much pleasure it can bring.”
“Shelly said Sir Remy did feel pleasure,” I said. “I’m sure you will, too…I’ll try to…”
“Not for me, Alexandra!” Branford huffed through his nose again, and dropped his chin to the top of my head. I felt him take another breath. “I want you to feel it as well.”
“Feel what?” I asked.
“If I could just get you to relax long enough, I could show you,” he grumbled, exasperated. He brought one of his hands up to run it through his hair, and then his lips touched my temple. “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s all right,” I said quietly.
“No, it isn’t,” he said. He leaned back and tilted his head to look at me. “I have never, ever hurt a woman like that, Alexandra. I wouldn’t. Yes, your first time can be uncomfortable, but that part is over quickly, and you aren’t going to be left bleeding!”
I looked up at him quizzically, trying to comprehend the meaning of his words.
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Branford reiterated. His brow creased, and he traced my cheekbone with his fingers. “If he had gone slow—been careful with her—that would not have happened.”
“What if you…” I stopped, not knowing exactly what to say.
“If I what?” Branford pressed me for an answer.
“What if you…if you get too…if you are…”
“Alexandra, I am perfectly capable of controlling myself,” Branford said, somehow understanding what I wished to say though I could not find the words. “If I could not, I would have had you the first night. If not then, the second. I would have had you that next morning when we woke up or when you first bathed me. I would have had you this afternoon or ten minutes ago. Every time I get close to you, I want you. I will admit it’s difficult sometimes, but I want you to desire me, too. I want you to…someday…pull me into your arms of your own desire. I want you to kiss me, and I want you to someday beg me to take you to bed.”
I certainly blushed and tried to hide my face in Branford’s chest, but he turned me to face him again. His eyes looked hopeful as he spoke.
“I saw it there, you know,” he said. “Yesterday, when I touched you—I saw it in your eyes then, just for a moment. Do you remember?”