When I didn't react he extended his hand, palm upward, an invitation not a command, and yet I knew there was only one right answer.
I faced him, but my eyes were drawn to the long scar on his palm. I ran my fingertips over it.
"Is that from the blood oath?" I peered up into his unreadable face.
I knew during the initiation ceremony, men had to let blood while reciting the words of the oath.
"No. This is." He turned his other hand where a small scar marred his palm.
"That," he said with a nod toward the scar I was still touching.
"What happened in a fight. I had to stave off a knife attack with my hand."
I wanted to ask him about the first time he killed a man, but he curled his fingers around my wrist and led me toward the bed.
My throat became too tight for words when he sat on the mattress and pulled me between his legs. I tried to relax into his kiss and when he made no move to take things further I actually felt the tension slip away and began to enjoy his experienced mouth, but then he lay back and pulled me onto the bed with him.
His kisses became more forceful and I could feel his erection pressed up against my thigh.
Still I didn't pull back so I could do this. I knew it was coming.
His hand cupped my breast and I stiffened despite my best intentions not to. He didn't remove it, but didn't move it either. His kisses made thinking difficult.
Would it really be so bad to sleep with my husband?
He drew back a couple of inches and trailed kisses toward my ear.
"I've never wanted to eat a woman as much as I want you right now."
I froze. His words made me feel cheap.
He was my husband and he had a right to my body, if you asked anyone in our family anyway, but I deserved better than that.
And I didn't want to be eat like he was used to doing with other women.
Because I was his wife.
Although,I wanted more from him but my conscientiousness's.
So I turned my head and pushed my palms against his chest.
After a moment, he back down.
"I don't want this," I said, not bothering to hide my disgust from him.
I didn't look at him but I could practically feel his frustration.
What did he think? That I would suddenly feel comfortable enough to sleep with him because he'd taken me out for dinner once?
Was that how it worked with his other women?
For a long time he did nothing but stare at me, then he untangled himself from me.
He shut off the light without a word and lied on his side of the bed. I wished he'd at least hold me. This was my first night so far away from my family. It would have been nice if he'd at least comforted me, but I didn't ask him to.
Instead I pulled the covers up and closed my eyes.