He nodded, knitting his big hand into my little one, so that each of his fingers slid between the gaps in mine.
“I told you they would, and they did.” Now he raised his eyes to look at me. His look was serious and intense. “There’s fuck all your father can do to stop us. You have my word.”
Bors got up slightly on one elbow and grabbed his britches, keeping one hand always clasped in mind. From the pocket he took a folded piece of parchment and placed it beside me. I opened it up, intimidated by the words and sentences on the page. Much of it unreadable to me as there were legal words and phrases that were far beyond my level of learning. But I understood the most important part: in the middle of the page were our names, written out in careful, round hand. Our right to marry was ensured by the wax seal of the clan leader.
I was overjoyed but still, deep down, a bit unsure. Though Bors seemed certain, I knew that my father couldn’t be trusted. From the way he had behaved when he came to look for me and Angelica hid me away, I worried that a simple piece of parchment would do nothing to stop him from taking me back. And yet, along with that parchment, I had Bors and all his power. That, at least, I knew my father could not contest.
And I truly had no idea why. His treatment of me over the years told me he should be over joyed that someone would take me off his hands, yet he seemed desperate to keep me and my confusion tightened around my throat.
“I’ll give you a good life, Sara. I’ve saved nearly every penny I’ve earned. We will have plenty. Together, we can build the livery and have something strong enough to support us as we grow old. We will not be royalty, but I will treat you like my queen.” He brushed a lock of my hair aside and wound the end gently around his finger once and again. He pulled me to him and nestled his nose into the hair at the top of my head, inhaling deeply and slowly as he placed a protective kiss on my forehead. “I will provide for you. And,” he said, moving one hand down to my belly, “for our children.”
I felt so happy and so joyful that I didn’t even know what to say. Somehow, I managed a whisper, “Thank you.” As I nestled into his arms, I let myself get lost in his strength, the warmth of the fire, and my hopes and dreams of the future.
I envisioned our home, our garden, our animals and the joy and anticipation of carrying his children. That anticipation, I knew, might be far shorter than I’d expected. Though I may not know a great deal about the mysteries of the flesh, I knew well enough that I might already be with his child.
A boy, I was certain.
He’d have Bors’ smile, and my eyes. I could already imagine the pattern I would follow to embroider his swaddling clothes.
Bors shifted, rising up on his knees, and I saw the hunger on his face, knowing with a clutch in my belly that he meant to take me again. Though I was sore, and my sex still thrummed with the orgasms he had given me, I opened my legs willingly and without hesitation.
I was and would always be his, to do with as he pleased.
He ran his tongue over his lips as he looked down at me. As he rolled my nipple between two of his fingers, he bit his lip as if to share in the pinch. “Every time I’ve had you it’s been so dark,” he said. “Not this time, though.” He glanced at the roaring fire that illuminated the room. “This time, I won’t miss a fucking thing.”
He positioned me on my back, with a cushion beneath my hips so that my breasts spilled back, high onto my chest. For a long moment, his eyes stayed locked on mine. Our gaze unbroken and smoldering, his cock grew thick and hard against my thigh.
“Let me look at you,” he said, breaking away from my gaze. I watched him study my neck, my shoulders, my breasts. “I want to memorize every last…”
Bors stopped cold. All at once, everything about his demeanor and behavior changed. He drew back and yanked his hands away from me, just as the man had done in the pub had done when he’d torn my blouse from my body.
My heart plummeted and an instantaneous, instinctive sob got caught in my throat. He looked at me with the same shock and horror that the men who intended to rape me had. The true sight of me made men recoil. It was one thing when it happened with complete strangers, but now, in the arms of the man I had fallen for so deeply, I felt unspeakably horrified and ashamed of my body.