I smiled and turned my head to kiss the top of his. Branford rose up on his elbow and looked into my face.
“I do not believe that is completely within your control,” I told him.
“I will take you every night,” Branford said. His tone was determined, and his words definitely not to be questioned. “At least once in the day as well.”
“You have done that anyway,” I said to him. I smashed my lips together, trying not to smile too broadly, for I knew he was quite serious.
“More often, then,” he said with raised brows—daring me to contradict his plan. He used his fingers to trace from my shoulder, across my collarbones, and over my breast. He cupped it for a moment before running his hand over my stomach and then back up my arm. He brushed his fingers over my lips and up the edge of my jaw. He ran the tip of one finger down my nose. It seemed as though he was exploring each and every part of me to make sure he had not forgotten anything while we were apart.
I placed my hand against his chest, feeling the strong and steady beat under my palm. Like Branford, I also wanted to remember how he felt in my hands, and I traced every lined muscle on his chest and stomach while he drew circles around my breasts with his fingertip and kissed a trail across my shoulder. He leaned across me, his mouth sucking at one of my nipples while his fingers tickled across my side. I squirmed against the feeling, and his hand gripped my hip as he sat up and looked me in the eyes. He pulled sharply with his hand, pushing our hips firmly together.
“Any time I want,” Branford said with a scowl.
I tilted my head to the side, raising my eyebrows just a little as I looked at him. I could have sworn his lower lip was protruding like a child’s whose toy had been taken away.
“My wife,” Branford said. Moving swiftly, he leaned over me and quickly nipped at my lips with his. His gaze darted away from mine, and for a moment, I thought I could detect a slight blush under his tanned cheeks. He looked back at me with his half smile and dancing eyes. I thought he would speak, but instead, he closed his eyes briefly before looking at me again, his head shaking back and forth subtly.
The combination of his strength, his gentleness, and his obvious need for me was overwhelming.
I brushed over the edge of his bearded jaw with my fingers. I could not wait for it to be morning again so I could shave him properly and see the gratitude in his eyes when he ran his fingers over his smooth face. I could not wait to give him his tea or prepare his breakfast. I could not wait to hold his arm as we walked through the gardens, and I could not wait until tomorrow night when he would bring me back here and overtake me with his flesh—both inside and out.
My stomach seemed to roll over inside of me, and for a moment, I could not even breathe. I felt my heart pounding in my chest as his eyes continued to stare down at me. I felt the warmth of his gaze covering my body. I felt safe and secure in his strength and in knowing I belonged to him and that he was mine. I wanted nothing more than to spend my days doing whatever I could to make him happy and content in his life and to spend my nights filled by him—giving myself to him whenever he needed me.
And that moment was when I knew I loved him.
Chapter 4—Dutifully Sacrifice
The grass in the field flicked against my legs as Branford led me to a low wooden building I had seen before only from our bedroom window. My fingers were around his right arm, and wrapped around his left wrist was a thin leather cord. At the end of the cord was Amarra, walking smoothly next to Branford with her eyes turned up to his. She matched his pace perfectly and kept her focus on my husband as if waiting for his command.
We entered the field near the edge of the woods, and Branford whistled long and loud. Within only a few moments, four large, reddish-brown dogs were barreling toward us. I took a step closer to my husband, pushing my side against his. I felt his lips touch the top of my head but only briefly. As the dogs neared¸ he dropped down close to Amarra and slowly removed the leather strap from around her neck.
“Will she not run away?” I asked.
“Not if she understands this is her pack and that she will be cared for here,” Branford replied. “She will have no reason to go anywhere else.”
I watched the other four dogs as they came near the bitch. I giggled at their apparently normal greetings of sniffing and licking. They walked around each other, and Amarra spun around in a circle as well, paying most attention to the largest of the four male dogs.
“Argo is the oldest and largest,” Branford said as he pointed to the one I had been watching. His coat was darker red than the others, and when he shook his head, his flopping ears turned inside out, giving him a comic appearance. “The others look to him when I am not here. Next is Atlas, who could probably be the leader of the pack if he could be bothered, but he is usually too busy chasing noises in the woods. The two smaller ones are Helo and Major.”
Argo was intent on making the other pack members keep their distance from Amarra, their new member. He only positioned himself between her and the other dogs at first but then became more aggressive. He growled a little as the others came closer and even snapped at one of the younger dogs, which made me jump.
“He just wants to make sure the others know she belongs to him,” Branford informed me.
“Does he have to be so…so…cruel about it?”
“Cruel?” Branford chuckled. He moved closer behind me, and his hands brushed lightly over my arms.
“He snaps at the others before they even get close,” I said.
“Does he?”
“Sometimes.”
“He will likely do it again,” Branford surmised. “He can be quite jealous.”
Branford tightened his grip on my shoulders as he leaned close and whispered in my ear. I was instantly reminded of the first time he took me to meet Romero and our conversation in the stables. There he had also pulled me back against his chest and spoke gently into my ear—like he was now.
“Sometimes he is afraid he may lose her,” he said, his voice so soft I could only barely hear him. He circled my waist with his arm. “When he thinks of what his life would be without her now, he can be irrational.”