“Is it too much?” he whispered as he kissed my temple.
“No,” I shook my head. “Please…more…”
“As you wish,” he murmured, and the speed of his hips increased.
Over and over again, he thrust hard and deep into me, pulling at the headboard with each thrust, using the leverage he gained to nearly lift me off the bed. I tightened my legs around his waist and lifted my hips up to meet him stroke for stroke. I grasped the hair at the back of his neck as I looked up to his face. His eyes were closed and his mouth partially open as his body strained to thrust into me harder and deeper. The muscles of his arms worked to hold tightly to the top of the bed as he twisted, plunged, and moved inside of me.
He was glorious….magnificent…inhuman in his beauty.
My body rippled, shuddered, clamped down, and let go as I cried out for my husband. I felt his muscles stiffen as he released into me, and instead of his usual, murmured prayers, he arched his head back and screamed to the heavens. With the release of his grip on the headboard, his body dropped over mine, and I felt the slickness of the sweat on his chest cover my skin. He nestled between my neck and shoulder, running his nose along the vessel in my throat, his kisses following the trail.
“You are mine,” he whispered softly against my neck. “You are all I have ever wanted, my wife…my perfection. You are what made me a man.”
“Yours,” I moaned back to him, still somewhat incoherent. “Always.”
“I am yours, too,” he told me. “No matter what, Alexandra—I belong to you.”
“We belong to each other,” I said.
“I love you so, so much, Alexandra.”
“I love you, Branford. More than anything.”
He tightened his arms around me, nearly crushing my chest into his. His labored breathing continued for some time, and his body remained tense even long after his release. He rolled to his back, still holding me tightly so that I rolled with him. His eyes were clenched shut, and when I reached up to touch his face, his expression was pained.
“Branford? What is it?”
He looked at me for a long moment, then cupped his hands around my face and kissed me thoroughly. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, holding me to him as his lips molded against mine again and again.
I knew when my husband was agitated, and I knew when he was deflecting. He was obviously upset about something and trying to distract both of us with his skilled hands and tongue.
“Branford, please,” I said as I broke away from his kiss. “Tell me what is upsetting you!”
He pushed himself away from me and out of our bed. He reached for his robe and wrapped it tightly around his shoulders to ward off the chill. His steps took him near the fire, where he added another log, leaned against the mantle, and tried to calm himself.
I had no idea what had made him so obviously angry, but he spent several minutes composing himself before he turned to me again. Even then, he did not speak right away. He went from looking at the fire, to Amarra, to the window, and then made the cycle again but did not seem able to bring his eyes to me.
It was concerning, to say the least.
“I have…news to tell you,” Branford said in a low voice. He kicked at a wayward piece of bark, propelling it toward the fire. He stepped to one side, touched Amarra’s head, and then turned to the window.
It was his way of continuing the deflection from whatever subject was on his mind or the overthinking of the same. I was not sure which. Whatever he and Camden had spoken of in the grand hall must have been troubling. Could King Edgar be asking for additional concessions? We had given him nearly all we could spare.
“What news?” I asked when he did not immediately elaborate. I sat up, pulling the sheets around my chest to ward off the chilled air.
“Hadley is going to move to Silverhelm,” Branford said so quietly I could hardly hear him.
“She is coming here?” I asked for clarification, but I could not hide my excitement. I loved my home here and Branford’s family dearly, but I had known Hadley all my life, and we understood one another. “To live? In Silverhelm?”
“Yes.” Again, I could barely hear him.
“This is wonderful!” I exclaimed as I beamed at him, but when I looked closer, my excitement diminished, for Branford had gone quite pale. I stood and grabbed my own garment for warmth before walking slowly to my again silent husband.
I felt strangely hesitant and somewhat frightened. These were feelings that were almost completely unfamiliar to me now. I did not understand why such news would be of concern to my husband. Surely he did not think Hadley would be a spy from Hadebrand—he had also learned to appreciate and accept her during her visits to Silverhelm. He had mentioned several times that he wished Hadley would replace Janet in her duties and that he had enjoyed the few times they had spoken together.
I reached out for him as I instinctively tried to make contact with his skin to comfort him though I did not know the reason he needed such reassurance.
“Branford? What is it?”