I cupped his face. The rough stubble of his beard felt good against my palms.
“I know,” I said. He sighed and looked into my eyes again. I tried to hold his gaze unwaveringly though it was difficult to look him in the eye for so long. My mind told me to look away from him—I was being disrespectful—but as I watched his gaze soften and his slight smile return, I knew it was what he wanted.
“Lie down,” Branford said softly. He gazed intently at me as he moved forward slightly. He kept his mouth against my throat as I lay down on my back, his hands guiding me slowly to the mattress. Once I was situated, he stroked my body in one, long movement—from my shoulders, down my chest, over my breasts and down to my stomach. My muscles tightened involuntarily, and I heard my breath hitch. I felt warm air from his mouth over the skin of my shoulder, across my collarbone, and then to the pebbled flesh of my nipple. He sucked it into his mouth as I moaned quietly. My legs shifted of their own volition, trying to find…something.
It felt as though his fingers were dancing over my skin, and I soon found my body shifting under him, wanting more of his touch. He moved his lips to my other breast, first sucking and then blowing cool air over the tip, causing me to shiver.
“Do you like that?” he asked quietly. I nodded quickly, afraid of what might come out if I opened my mouth. “I’m going to kiss you lower now.”
My mind reeled as he moved to the valley between my breasts before kissing in a straight line down to my navel, where he dipped his tongue, and I shivered again. I closed my eyes and felt his mouth reach the edge of the fabric where the nightdress’s laces ended. I stiffened, nervous again, but he only kissed the place where the clothing met my skin—traveling from the middle of my stomach, over to my hipbone, then all the way to the other side. He kissed my navel again and then slowly made his way back up my body until he captured my lips with his.
I gasped for breath as he finally released me though he did not appear to be finished. He trailed up my jaw and sucked the lobe of my ear.
“Your skin tastes so good to me,” he whispered. His hot breath coated my throat. “You keep moving your legs, my wife. Tell me what you feel there…between them. Tell me.”
“I…I don’t know,” I whispered. The strange tingling increased, obviously reacting to his words and touch.
“Do you like the way it feels?”
“Yes.” I moaned. He moved his hand slowly down my arm, over my elbow, and down to my wrist. “But it…it feels…”
“How does it feel?” he asked when my own words eluded me. He caressed the curve of my hip over the top of the thin material of the dress.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Branford’s words echoed through my ears as his mouth sucked gently at the skin of my neck. “Like you touched me? Do you want me to give you more of what you’re feeling there now?”
“Yes.” My voice actually squeaked. My body tensed in anticipation though I did not know for what. Branford moved his hand to the front of my thigh, making slow circles with his thumb and warming the skin below the cloth. I felt him shift, and his thumb was suddenly there, at the apex of my thighs, and I heard myself cry out.
“Let yourself feel it, Alexandra,” he whispered with his mouth close to my ear again. “Don’t think…just feel.”
The first two fingers of his hand crept slowly between my legs, stroking downward and pushing the cloth into the creases of my sex. They stroked up and down as his thumb continued in a slow circle around the top. He pushed a little harder, and I stifled a cry as my hands came up and gripped his shoulders.
“There you go,” he said. His voice sounded deep and husky. “Don’t fight it…hold me as tight as you wish.”
I was starting to pant, and I felt tiny drops of moisture at the back of my neck. His other hand caressed my breast, mimicking the movements of his thumb over the nipple, and I gasped again. My nipples started to tingle as well, much like the feeling between my legs but not quite as intense. At the same time, the feeling lower down began to intensify, and my hips tilted up against his touch, and I could feel wetness there between my legs as his fingers continued to move with me.
Branford cupped his hand a little lower though the pressure from his thumb remained constant. He curled his fingers, pressing firmly but gently into the fabric at the top of my legs. My panting increased, and I felt wetness trickle down my neck. The strange tingling began to steadily intensify until I started to whimper steadily under my breath, and my hips started moving in time with his ministrations.
“Just feel it, Alexandra,” Branford whispered in my ear. His lips made a line of open-mouthed, wet kisses down my throat and back to my breasts. He sucked one into his mouth again, and I gasped, my whimpers turning to cries. “Let it happen…just let go…feel my touch on you…”
His teeth grazed my nipple, and the shock of the sensation took the building feeling between my legs and magnified it a thousand-fold. I heard myself scream incoherently though I may have been trying to call out his name. My fingers dug into the skin on Branford’s back, and I may very well have left marks on him as the shuddering, cascading, incredibly staggering sensations collided throughout my body from that one, small spot underneath Branford’s thumb. I raised my shoulders from the bed, crying out again as another wave rapidly shook through me. My legs clasped together, holding his hand firmly between them, and spots of color danced around my tightly closed eyes.
My body released one final shudder, and my head dropped down against the pillow. Branford released my nipple, and he trailed soft kisses up my chest to my throat and finally my mouth. He kissed me slowly and then wrapped his warm arms around me and rolled onto his back, taking me with him. I settled my still stunned body up against his and tried to relax as his hand roamed over my back. I felt his lips press against my hair, then cascade down my jawline and back up again. He kissed the spot behind my ear before speaking softly.
“That is what you desire from me.” His breath was warm but still sent shivers through my arms and legs. “If at all possible, I want to be able to give that to you every night for the rest of forever.”
And that is when I learned why husbands and wives went to bed so early.
BOOK THREE: The Consummation
With steady patience, Sir Branford teaches his young wife the pleasures to be found in their marital chambers. Though still unsure of herself, Alexandra begins to open herself to the possibilities and opportunities of her new life. As Branford expresses his desire to have more than a marriage of political contrivance, Alexandra finds facets of her new husband that promise protection, loyalty, and maybe even love.
As she gains a deeper understanding of her husband, Alexandra soon discovers there is more to being Sir Branford’s wife than sharing his bed. Queen Sunniva had told her to be “noble of heart,” and when the lives of aristocrats rest in Alexandra’s hands, she finally begins to understand the importance of her position in the court and in her husband’s life. Soon, Branford begins to appreciate how valuable a gift Alexandra is to his kingdom.
Chapter 13—Abruptly Change
I had just felt the most incredible and indescribable sensation my body had ever produced. Words to describe the feeling that had just overwhelmed my body, inside and out, were not forthcoming.
“Branford?” My breathing had finally come back to a more normal state, and I felt as though I could speak again. My husband’s hand was running lazily from the top of my head to my waist in the same manner as it had in the mornings when I woke in his arms.
“Yes, Alexandra?” I could feel his smile where his lips touched my forehead.
“What…um…” I paused, not really knowing how to ask my question. Whatever it was he had just done to me was without description. Even though my breathing was as it should be, and my heart had stopped pounding beneath my breast, my legs were still throbbing, and I was quite sure I would not be able to stand if I tried. “Um, what was that?”
“That,” Branford said, “was what a man c
an do for his wife. That is how you are supposed to feel when your husband lies with you.”
His smile was more noticeable against my temple as he pressed his lips there. I considered his words for a moment and thought about what my body had done—how I had felt. The sensations had been uncontrollable, and I wondered if he had the same experience.
“Is that what you feel, too?”
“I’m not sure it’s exactly the same,” he said, “but I think it must be similar.”
It was no wonder he looked at me the way he did if it was such a feeling he desired. I closed my eyes and tried to remember exactly what it had felt like. Though it had been only a few minutes before, I found the memory not exactly fading but incomplete, like the feeling itself could only be experienced, not remembered. I wondered if Branford had felt it as well, but I didn’t think he had. When his hand had been between my legs, touching and rubbing against me, I had cried out, unable to stop myself. Branford had not.
“Did you…feel like that? Just now?” I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him. Branford smiled and glanced away for a moment before answering me.
“No, not just now. I will feel like that when I am inside of you.”
Branford touched the side of my face, and his thumb stroked my cheekbone. He smiled and his eyes sparkled in the fading firelight.
“Believe me,” he said softly, “when I feel like that, you will know.”
I blushed as I tucked my head down against his chest and thought about my own reactions to the feeling. I found myself wondering just what Branford would do and how I would know. It had been such an intense, wonderful feeling, and knowing he had not felt that way as well had me wondering if he regretted what he had done.
“Shouldn’t you have, um…felt like that?” I asked. “I mean, not just me?”
He pressed his hand to my cheek, and I turned my head to look upon him again.
“I did thoroughly enjoy your hand on me,” he said. He raised his eyebrows a little and grinned. “If you had kept touching me that way…well, it’s best that you stopped.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised to give you time to be ready,” he said simply, “and I would have wanted you here—tonight. I still did. I still do, but I will wait until tomorrow.”
The other times I had reminded him that he did not have to wait had only displeased him, so I just nodded my head in agreement. I was truly far too exhausted to reply. Branford pushed lightly against my head, bringing it to rest on his chest. I closed my eyes, vaguely aware that my nightdress was still bunched about my waist, and fell into one of the deepest slumbers of my life. It was still dark when I opened my eyes again, but my body was relaxed, still, and tranquil. I was no longer fearful of his presence as I had been before.
Looking at his sleeping face, I found I wanted to touch him again. I wanted to run my hand along his jaw, trace his brows with my fingers, and touch my lips to his, but I did not wish to wake him. He looked peaceful, and I did not want to disturb his rest.
The fire was down to coals, and there was a distinct chill on the top of my shoulders, which were neither covered by the blankets nor Branford’s embrace. Twisting my body a little, I managed to untangle myself from Branford’s hold. Though my body was free, I realized his fingers were also wrapped tightly around the gathered cloth of my nightdress, and I had to pry them away before I could get out of the bed. I pulled the garment back up and over my shoulders, quite aware how much the night temperature had dropped, now that I was without blankets. I went quickly to the chamber pot before stoking the fire near the bed. Once the flames were high again, I decided to build up the fire in the morning room as well. It was nearly out, and I had to blow gently on the coals in order to nurture flames to ignite the wood.
Rising, I looked to the shuttered, east-facing window and saw a thin sliver of light peering through the small hole in the coverings. I remembered Branford throwing one of the logs through the air and into the shutter and realized it now needed repair. The damage wasn’t serious, but too much cold air now came from the outside. I thought I would point it out to Branford but then wondered if he would want to be reminded of that night. I decided not to mention it at all because I didn’t know how he might react. Either he would notice it himself, or someone else would. Maybe I could find what would be needed to repair it myself. He certainly wouldn’t want anyone inside his rooms to fix it.
With the fires blazing in both rooms, I returned to the bed. Branford was on his back, with his hand resting against his stomach and his head turned toward where I had been beside him. His brows were knitted together in sleep but seemed to relax as I climbed back to my place beside him. Being careful not to wake him, I lay my head on his shoulder, pulled the blankets back up around us, and wrapped one of my arms around his waist. He reached up and gripped my forearm as it lay across his body, and his opposite arm wrapped around my back, holding me close to him. I was instantly warm again even though the heat from the fire had barely reached us. I found myself smiling as I closed my eyes and relaxed back into his strong, safe arms.
*****
I knew Branford was already awake before I opened my eyes, for I could feel his hand touching my hair, stroking it down to my waist and back again. I took a deep breath and sighed, trying to cover my yawn as I opened my eyes to look at him. His eyes were bright and his look soft as he gazed down at me with a half smile. I shivered a little as he rested his hand on the small of my back and traced his fingers lightly across my hip.
“Good morning,” he said with his voice full of sleep.
“Good morning, my…Branford,” I replied, embarrassed again at my continual mistake.
“Did you get cold?” Branford asked. His smile grew broader as his fingers grazed lightly over the material covering my shoulders.
“When I got up earlier, it was cold,” I said.
“You tended the fires.”
“Yes.”
“You will definitely spoil me,” Branford said.
“You said you wanted me to.”
“That I did,” he replied. “I only hope you do it because you want to and not because you think you have to.”
My eyes narrowed slightly, and I wondered what difference it made. As long as I did as he instructed, I didn’t know why my reasons for doing it mattered. He continued to stare at me a while, and I began to worry that I was supposed to respond to what he had said though I wasn’t sure how. After a few moments, he yawned and stretched his neck.
“I would prefer to lie here with you all day,” he said, “but I don’t suppose we’ll be given that option since a troop of kitchen workers bearing breakfast will likely be here any moment. Besides, there is something I need to do today, and you will accompany me.”
“Where are we going?”
“I have a tournament at Sawyer Fort in four days,” Branford told me. “My squires exercise my horse daily, but I need to check on him and do some of his exercising myself. Besides, it looks like it will be a beautiful day.”
Branford indicated the beams of sunshine already peeking through the windows. I nodded in agreement.
“It does,” I agreed. “Should we rise now?”
“I already have,” Branford said with a smirk, which I didn’t understand.
“What do you mean?” I asked, but Branford only chuckled in response. He placed his lips against my cheek, then across my jaw.
“Tomorrow morning, maybe I will keep you here for a while longer,” he said, his mouth kissing slowly against the side of my neck. He slid his hand up my side, and his thumb lightly traced the edge of my breast. I gasped as I suddenly understood what he was insinuating.
“In the morning?” I asked, a little shocked and not altogether sure if he was serious or not.
“I would touch you more now if I didn’t think we would be interrupted,” Branford confirmed.
I could not believe what he was saying. I had always assumed such activity was reserved for nighttime, under the cove
r of sheets and darkness. Would he really wish to do such things when we first awoke? Was it even an appropriate thing to do?
“People…I mean…it’s acceptable to do…that in the morning?”
Branford’s gaze shined down at me, and the corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly as he leaned in close enough to whisper in my ear.
“Alexandra, if you will allow me to have my way, I am going to want you in the night when we go to bed and when we wake up each and every morning.” His tongue danced across the skin of my throat, and his words became dark and soft. “I’m going to want you after breakfast near the fire in the morning room. I will attempt to seduce you in the stables at midday. I’ll want you by moonlight in the gardens. I would love to take you on Camden’s throne if I thought I could get away with it. Someday, when the throne is mine, I will have you there.”
“In the garden?” I said quietly.
“I hope so.”
“On the…on the throne?”
“Definitely.”
“Couldn’t someone see us there?”
“Possibly,” Branford said with a shrug. “I think I would be far too focused on the task at hand to notice.”
The shock on my face had to have been evident since Branford shook his head slightly and told me not to worry. I couldn’t even imagine having Branford do such things to me where others might be able to walk right in and discover us. I wasn’t sure if he was teasing me or not. He gave me a final kiss on the top of my head before rolling away from me, tossing his legs over the side of the bed, and sitting up.
“I suppose we should get ready before servants start rummaging around in here again.” Branford grumbled and pushed himself out of the bed.
Branford dressed while I heated water for his tea. He was right about breakfast being brought to us before long, for no sooner had the water begun to boil, there was a noise on the other side of the morning room. Branford mumbled something under his breath, but I couldn’t understand what he said. He glared toward the door, and I knew he didn’t want any of them in our rooms. Moving quickly, I went to the door leading into the hallway and opened it. While there wasn’t actually a troop, four servants from the kitchens appeared with bowls, plates, cups, and pitchers.