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Authors: Shay Savage
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continued to insist I was more beautiful as time went by. Indeed, he did spend inordinate amounts of time touching my growing stomach, backside, and breasts.
My breasts were certainly the most pleasing to him, and he used any and every excuse to touch them. Before I was with child, Branford would sneak me away to seduce me, claiming the need for a child as the reason. Now that he did not have such a compelling reason, he would sometimes resort to whining and moaning his way underneath the bodice of my dress so he could touch and kiss my breasts.
It was maddening.
And wonderful.
I set down the blanket Sunniva had taught me to crochet, the edges finally completed. It did not look as good as the one she had made, but I was still proud of it. I stood and stretched, stepping lightly from one foot to the other. It amazed me how much my feet would stiffen up just from sitting! I glanced over at the fire and saw it had turned to coals, so I moved to the stack of wood. As I started to pick up a piece, I felt Branford’s hand on my arm.
“I will get that,” he said.
I looked up at him and smiled.
“I thought I was supposed to serve you,” I said, teasing.
His kissed my nose and placed his hand against my belly.
“You serve me in the most important way,” he said, and I felt my cheeks redden at his words.
As Branford rebuilt the fire, I folded the small blanket into the cradle gifted to us from Lord and Lady Sawyer. It rocked slightly as I bumped it with my leg and it thumped against the wall a few times before I could steady it with my hand. I reached back, trying to scoot the whole thing away from the wall a bit when I lost my balance and knocked into the table behind me. The contents of the table spilled across the floor.
“Alexandra!”
Branford rushed over to steady me, but I had not really been in danger of falling.
“I am fine,” I said to reassure him.
“Let me get that,” Branford said as I started picking things up from the floor.
“I am still capable!” I could not help the giggle that escaped me because I could not see the floor over my protruding stomach in order the reach all the fallen items.
Branford stood, grasped me by my hips and picked me up. The act was not as easy as it had been for him before my stomach was so large. He deposited me on the edge of the bed and took my face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over my cheekbones as he smiled down at me.
“At least you are smiling today,” he said. “When you were so upset over that cup of cider last night, I was not sure what I was going to do with you.”
I blushed, for I had not known what to think either. I had simply upset Branford’s mug and had then been unable to stop crying about it. He had finally called for Sunniva to calm me, but I fell asleep before she had even arrived. I tried to reach for the items on the floor again, but Branford stopped me.
“Let me get it,” Branford said again. He pecked at my lips and then dropped down next to the bed to start bringing everything from the floor back to the table. There was my copy of the Holy Scriptures, the comb I had worn in my hair the day before, an empty mug, and the bowl made by my mother. Branford placed them all on the table except for the mug, which he carried over to the morning room so the kitchen servants could retrieve it later.
I sighed and shook my head at myself before I arranged the items on the table.
“Oh no,” I said as I picked up the bowl. There was a small piece of the carved wood missing from the bottom. I managed to get myself off the bed and felt around on the floor until I found the piece that had broken off. I turned the bowl over in my hands and held the small slender piece up to where it had obviously broken off from the rest of the bowl.
As I turned it over to see the bottom, I noticed something strange. There seemed to be a hole in the bottom of the bowl now, not just where the piece would fit
My breasts were certainly the most pleasing to him, and he used any and every excuse to touch them. Before I was with child, Branford would sneak me away to seduce me, claiming the need for a child as the reason. Now that he did not have such a compelling reason, he would sometimes resort to whining and moaning his way underneath the bodice of my dress so he could touch and kiss my breasts.
It was maddening.
And wonderful.
I set down the blanket Sunniva had taught me to crochet, the edges finally completed. It did not look as good as the one she had made, but I was still proud of it. I stood and stretched, stepping lightly from one foot to the other. It amazed me how much my feet would stiffen up just from sitting! I glanced over at the fire and saw it had turned to coals, so I moved to the stack of wood. As I started to pick up a piece, I felt Branford’s hand on my arm.
“I will get that,” he said.
I looked up at him and smiled.
“I thought I was supposed to serve you,” I said, teasing.
His kissed my nose and placed his hand against my belly.
“You serve me in the most important way,” he said, and I felt my cheeks redden at his words.
As Branford rebuilt the fire, I folded the small blanket into the cradle gifted to us from Lord and Lady Sawyer. It rocked slightly as I bumped it with my leg and it thumped against the wall a few times before I could steady it with my hand. I reached back, trying to scoot the whole thing away from the wall a bit when I lost my balance and knocked into the table behind me. The contents of the table spilled across the floor.
“Alexandra!”
Branford rushed over to steady me, but I had not really been in danger of falling.
“I am fine,” I said to reassure him.
“Let me get that,” Branford said as I started picking things up from the floor.
“I am still capable!” I could not help the giggle that escaped me because I could not see the floor over my protruding stomach in order the reach all the fallen items.
Branford stood, grasped me by my hips and picked me up. The act was not as easy as it had been for him before my stomach was so large. He deposited me on the edge of the bed and took my face in his hands. He brushed his thumbs over my cheekbones as he smiled down at me.
“At least you are smiling today,” he said. “When you were so upset over that cup of cider last night, I was not sure what I was going to do with you.”
I blushed, for I had not known what to think either. I had simply upset Branford’s mug and had then been unable to stop crying about it. He had finally called for Sunniva to calm me, but I fell asleep before she had even arrived. I tried to reach for the items on the floor again, but Branford stopped me.
“Let me get it,” Branford said again. He pecked at my lips and then dropped down next to the bed to start bringing everything from the floor back to the table. There was my copy of the Holy Scriptures, the comb I had worn in my hair the day before, an empty mug, and the bowl made by my mother. Branford placed them all on the table except for the mug, which he carried over to the morning room so the kitchen servants could retrieve it later.
I sighed and shook my head at myself before I arranged the items on the table.
“Oh no,” I said as I picked up the bowl. There was a small piece of the carved wood missing from the bottom. I managed to get myself off the bed and felt around on the floor until I found the piece that had broken off. I turned the bowl over in my hands and held the small slender piece up to where it had obviously broken off from the rest of the bowl.
As I turned it over to see the bottom, I noticed something strange. There seemed to be a hole in the bottom of the bowl now, not just where the piece would fit
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