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“Yes, some,” Branford said. He changed into the soft linen sleep pants he wore and then took my hand to lead me to our bed. “I trust you, my immediate family, Dunstan, and I may build some trust with Sir Rylan—it remains to be seen.”
“He seems genuine,” I said.
“Does he?” Branford looked over to me. “Did Janet?”
I looked down at my hands as I sat on the edge of the bed. I felt Branford’s lips touch the top of my head.
“I do love you,” he whispered against my hair. “I do not know if you still believe it or not, but I do love you. I’ve never been the trusting or the loving sort, but with you I can be someone else—someone worthy of you—if only I would stop making such grave mistakes.”
“You could not have known,” I told him. “None of us could have guessed at their plan. I still do not understand how they could have arranged it all—how they could have known we would bring Janet back with us.”
“They took a calculated risk,” Branford said. “If we had not brought her back with us at that time, she would have found another way, no doubt. We just made it easier for her to infiltrate our home. She was quite believable, I must say.”
He growled out the last words.
“I do not think anyone could have seen through her ruse.”
“I should have anyway,” Branford said. “I will not let such a thing happen again.”
I pushed myself up against the pillows of our bed, and Branford crawled after me. He did not lie beside me but hovered over my body, using one of his arms for support while the other traced my exposed skin with light fingertips.
He leaned down to kiss me softly, his warm mouth molding against mine as his tongue moistened my lips. I opened to him, taking in the taste of him as he wrapped his hands around my body and pulled me up against him. I felt his heart pounding in his chest as he broke away from me, his eyes wild and urgent.
“I want you now.”
“Yes,” I responded, and he pulled me tighter against his chest.
He pushed my nightdress up and slid his fingers slowly up my legs. He gripped my hips once, holding me against his hardness for a moment before he yanked at the dress and removed it from me. His sleep trousers followed my dress to the floor, and he was atop me, his hands in my hair and the heat from his excitement pushing against my stomach.
“You are beyond beautiful,” he said as his hand stroked from my hair, down my arms, and then back up to cup my breasts. He kissed the tips of each as my hands explored his back and the muscles of his arms and shoulders. I reached down to his hip, then skimmed around front until I could grip him with my fingers.
I let my fingers trail up the length of him until I reached the tip, then ran my fingers around and back down again as Branford’s breaths left wet, warm spots on my skin.
“That feels so good,” he told me as his hand covered mine. He led me in my touches for a moment only. “But I need more. I need to be inside of you.”
He shifted himself lower and groaned loudly as he pushed himself inside of me, burying his length completely within my body with a single stroke that left me crying out his name.
“Every time I am inside of you,” he whispered, “it feels like I am exactly where I am supposed to be. It is like no one else exists except us when I am here. I belong here.”
For a long moment, he held himself tight against me and did not move. He slipped his hand down my back, resting his fingers just above my backside as his mouth began tasting my neck and jaw. I stroked the curve at the base of his back, down the top of his thigh and back again. I tilted my head to capture his mouth with mine, leading the kiss to deepen it as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I felt his hand sneak between our bodies and gasped when his fingers found their goal.
“Please…please…” I heard myself begging as Branford rocked slowly against me, allowing the tension to build up gradually and maddeningly.
“You feel so glorious,” he whispered into my ear. “I love feeling you come apart around me. Do my fingers please you, my wife?”
The tip of his finger circled that sensitive area right above where we connected. Branford’s hips bucked slowly against me as his finger probed and touched. His lips went back to my jaw, then captured m
y cries as I tilted my hips against his and felt my body shudder around him. I gripped his shoulders and pulled him to me as his movements hastened. He reached down and slipped one arm under my leg, holding it high against his shoulder as he moaned with each thrust into me. His pace quickened, and his hips met mine in quick, forceful strokes. Only a moment later, he was crying out for me as I felt his release deep inside my body.
He kissed me again.
“I love you,” he murmured against my lips, “so much…my wife…”
“My husband,” I whispered back. “My king…my Branford…I love you…”
He rolled to his side and brought me with him. With our arms wrapped around each other, I watched Branford’s face as his breathing slowed and his heart began to beat a more regular rhythm. I traced over his jaw with my fingertips, feeling the rough stubble that had grown there since morning.
With a long, deep sigh, Branford closed his eyes and pulled my head to his chest.
