“No, please!” I cried as I sat up straighter in his lap. “I don't want to wait.”
“If you're tired...”
“Please, don't wait any longer. Please.”
“Why?” Branford’s eyebrows knitted together as he gazed at me intently.
“I can't bear the uncertainty,” I said, “the doubt.”
“What doubt?”
“If you decide you don't like it when you take me, you could decide you don't wish to keep me.”
“Why would you think such a thing?” Branford shook his head slowly. “I’ve told you, you will remain my wife.”
“It is what you said to Sir Parnell,” I replied. “You could take me in front of witnesses and then say I was, um...that I wasn't any good at it.”
I heard a curse escape his lips, and I closed my eyes, awaiting his anger.
“Do you remember what I said afterwards?” His voice was cool and calm. I opened my eyes and looked at him, searching for the ire, but I saw only veiled sadness.
“No,” I admitted.
“I said I would not do that even then.” He took my chin in his hand. “I certainly wouldn't do that now.”
I bit my lip and nodded.
“Do you not believe me?” he asked.
“I want to,” I said quietly, “but I know you…you want to…I don’t want you to have to wait any more. I want to…be yours.”
“It does not matter,” Branford said as his lips brushed over mine. “If I take you tonight, tomorrow night, next week, or next month, you are already mine. I will never let you go.”
“What if…what if you find me lacking?”
For a moment, he stared at me with his eyes narrowed in confusion. His head shook slightly.
“Impossible,” he whispered. With his fingers wrapped in my hair, he pulled me to him, kissing me deeply and moaning against my mouth. He moved his hands down my arms and lifted my hands to his shoulders.
I gripped the hard muscles under his shirt and opened my mouth when I felt his tongue touch my lips.
“You are mine, Alexandra.” His eyes took on that dark, intense color, and his mouth covered my lips again. He pulled back after a moment and touched his forehead to mine. “I do want you…so much. I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you.”
He kissed me again, and his lips made a line up the side of my jaw and to my ear. His warm breath coated my skin, and I felt the tip of his tongue slide over the shell of my ear.
“And I saw your eyes this afternoon, my wife,” he whispered low. “I saw the way they shone when you looked at me and when your hand wrapped around me. You wanted me then—I could see it. When my fingers were inside you, you wanted to feel more there, didn’t you? Tell me…”
He leaned back and his eyes danced with excitement. I turned away, unable to look him in the eye, for my face was probably already as red as an apple, but I couldn’t ignore the question, so I told him yes.
“So unless you have any further questions,” Branford said, his voice soft, “I’m going to take you to bed now.”
And that is when my heart really began to pound.
Chapter 4—Finally Consummate
With a brush of his lips against my forehead, Branford rose effortlessly with me still cradled in his arms and carried me to our bed. He sat me down on the edge, kissing me gently on the lips before bringing a group of candles over and setting them on the nightstand. He closed the shutters and tossed two more logs on the fire before returning to the side of the bed. He reached out and touched my hair with the ends of his fingers.
His gaze was so intense, I had to look away. I didn’t understand why he would look upon me with such an expression of desire. I possessed no great beauty as I had been told by Princess Whitney on many occasions. Such elegance and glamor were reserved for women of noble blood.