I tilted my head and looked down to see him gazing up at me. I shook my head slowly, because I wasn’t frightened, was I? I had no idea what I was feeling, but if I had been frightened, I would have wanted him to stop, and I didn’t want him to stop. He kissed my collarbone while keeping his eyes trained on mine, and then he moved away, leaving my skin cold where his mouth used to be. He stroked over the top of my shoulder again, over to the edge of the cloth that made up the top of my nightdress. Very, very slowly, he let his finger trace the edge of the fabric, down around the open neckline. As he moved his finger, he pushed the edge of my nightdress open just a little farther until his finger was running over the very top of my breast. I gasped, and his gaze flew to mine again.
“Can you imagine what that would feel like,” he whispered, his voice raspy and deep, “if I touched you like this underneath your clothes?”
Branford tilted his hand until three fingers were now moving over the swell of my breasts, moving slowly and gently across the top of both. I could feel an unusual tingling sensation in their centers, and I felt them stiffen as they did when the winter wind was particularly harsh. It was not unpleasant, though. It was not unpleasant in the least.
“I want to touch you more,” Branford said, his voice still quiet, “but as I said quite some time ago, it is very late, and I need to think of your health.”
Before I could respond, he was kissing me again in a slow, nearly chaste way. When he was done, he looked down on me and smiled.
“Thank you, Alexandra.”
“For what, Branford?” I asked.
“Trusting me,” he said with a shrug. “You finally stopped looking at me like you thought I was about to cuff you.”
Turning away, I blanched at the thought. The idea of him striking me hadn’t truly occurred to me—not in so many words anyway. Branford’s hand cupped my chin, and he turned me to look at him.
“You’ve not given me reason to do such a thing,” he said. My relief was mixed with concern as I realized he may find reason to hit me at a later time. “Don’t look like that.”
I took a deep breath to try to relax myself, and Branford’s eyes narrowed.
“I won’t be violent toward you, Alexandra,” he said. “You would have to do something truly…truly traitorous to incur such wrath from me.”
I tried to keep my mind from the poor carriage driver who nearly lost his life for an accident and instead found myself wondering what Branford would consider traitorous.
&
nbsp; “Please,” I heard him say, and when I focused on him again, his eyes held a trace of sadness. “Please don’t look that way. I don’t want you to fear me, Alexandra.”
I could not respond, for his mouth had claimed mine again, and he renewed his slow, gentle assault. It did not last long, but it again left me breathless and left my body crying out for more. More of exactly what, I could not say, I just knew I didn’t want him to stop.
“You need to sleep now, Alexandra,” Branford stated, his tone commanding again.
“You still aren’t going to…um…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“Not tonight, Alexandra,” Branford said firmly, “but it will be soon.”
“When?” I could not help but ask the question.
He narrowed his eyes in contemplation.
“Three nights,” he said with conviction. His gaze met mine, and he looked at me intently as he caressed my cheek. He grasped my head in his hands as his voice dropped to a low, throaty whisper. “I’ll show you what it can really be like to be with me. For the first two nights, we will learn more about each other—what we both may like. And on that third night, Alexandra…I’ll go so slowly. I’ll be so gentle with you; I swear it…just like I have been tonight. Would that be acceptable to you, my wife?”
“Yes, my Branford,” I said and then bit down on my lip in embarrassment, realizing I had just combined both his title and his name. Branford smiled and laughed quietly.
“I like that,” he said. He leaned down and kissed my lips as gently as possible—his mouth just barely touching mine.
“Three nights?” I inquired quietly, wondering what could possibly happen over that amount of time. As far as I could tell, he had remained truthful to me. He said he would not hurt me, and he hadn’t, but that did not change the reality of what was to happen in three nights time.
“Three nights from now,” he repeated, nodding. He leaned back over me, his warm breath rolling in waves over my ear as his fingers glided softly over the line of my jaw. “And on the third night, when you are truly ready, I promise you will tremble underneath my touch. I promise you will feel ecstasy like you never imagined. I promise you will call out my name when I lie on top of you, and I will fill you over and over again until you simply cannot take any more pleasure.”
My eyes widened, and my slowly calming heart began to sputter again in my chest as I tried to process the meaning of his words. My fear was still there, and I could not deny it, but it seemed to be accompanied by something completely different, and it was not a feeling I could name.
And that is how we planned to consummate our marriage.
~End Book One~