not to resist. It’ll hurt less if you’re not so…’ but although she imagined his words to be well intentioned, she knew that she couldn’t simply relax to his command. And despite the fact that her body didn’t seem capable of yielding, it appeared that he was going to continue trying. The discovery that he appeared undeterred came as a relief, since this was her duty now and to fail him on their wedding night would be unbearable. Think about something else, she told herself, and grateful for the warmth from his body, she tried to concentrate on that instead, surprised to find that, gradually, she stopped shivering. She even felt her shoulders relax a little. ‘That’s better,’ he whispered, bringing his face to rest against hers. His day-old stubble felt prickly against her cheek and scratched roughly on her shoulder and in such proximity, he reeked like the men who spilled out from the alehouse. But at least he was warm on top of her and, she discovered, not entirely repulsive, although his skin was considerably more hairy than she had imagined it would be. Beginning to relax a little further, she briefly thought of putting her arms around him, but before she had summoned sufficient courage, she felt him catch his breath and follow it with a long groan. Was he all right? In the same instant, though, he lifted his head from her shoulder and then, with a peculiar shudder, slumped on top of her, coming to rest heavily on her chest. And just as she was wondering how long he was going to stay there, he grunted and rolled aside.
Was that it, then? Was she finished with? Aware of the stickiness on her thighs, she slid her legs back together. Was he going to say anything? It seemed not. Should she say something? Given what had just taken place, though, what on earth, would she say? No, if he wanted to speak to her he would and if didn’t, well, that was fine as well. Either way, until he chose to speak, it was probably better that she just remained quiet.
Thankfully, the burning discomfort felt to be subsiding to a dull soreness now, and she could even feel relief beginning to soften her limbs. But there was another feeling too and strangely, it felt like disappointment. If someone had asked her beforehand what she had been expecting, she would have been unable to answer but in her mind, she had always imagined – or perhaps more accurately, had always hoped – that she would feel differently afterwards. Otherwise, if, as it now appeared, there was nothing but discomfort to be had, then why did people make such a fuss? And why had she been left feeling so discarded ?
Into the absolute stillness, a coarse snoring exploded. He was asleep! Without having said a single word to her, he had fallen asleep. Turning onto her side, she stared into the darkness, wondering how it was possible to feel so empty. Was it perhaps because, other than showing consideration for her discomfort, he had said nothing to her? Was he not supposed to woo her in some way; tell her that she was pretty or that she looked lovely; that he desired her or had been waiting for just that moment? Was she mistaken to think that was what it was all about? He hadn’t caressed her nor even kissed her, and so when he had been on top of her in the darkness, could she not have been anyone? Is that how it was; impersonal and cold? Something of nothing . And where was the pleasure in it? It was always possible that he had enjoyed it but for certain, she hadn’t; in fact, she couldn’t see, even now, what there was to enjoy.
Carefully, she rolled onto her stomach. The only explanation had to be that she had done it wrong. She had known there was something she was supposed to do; that’s why she had asked her mother. If only Ma could have been honest with her instead of saying that she would know what to do when the moment came because that was clearly a lie; she hadn’t had a clue beforehand and she still hadn’t now, even after the event. Tears tracked
Was that it, then? Was she finished with? Aware of the stickiness on her thighs, she slid her legs back together. Was he going to say anything? It seemed not. Should she say something? Given what had just taken place, though, what on earth, would she say? No, if he wanted to speak to her he would and if didn’t, well, that was fine as well. Either way, until he chose to speak, it was probably better that she just remained quiet.
Thankfully, the burning discomfort felt to be subsiding to a dull soreness now, and she could even feel relief beginning to soften her limbs. But there was another feeling too and strangely, it felt like disappointment. If someone had asked her beforehand what she had been expecting, she would have been unable to answer but in her mind, she had always imagined – or perhaps more accurately, had always hoped – that she would feel differently afterwards. Otherwise, if, as it now appeared, there was nothing but discomfort to be had, then why did people make such a fuss? And why had she been left feeling so discarded ?
Into the absolute stillness, a coarse snoring exploded. He was asleep! Without having said a single word to her, he had fallen asleep. Turning onto her side, she stared into the darkness, wondering how it was possible to feel so empty. Was it perhaps because, other than showing consideration for her discomfort, he had said nothing to her? Was he not supposed to woo her in some way; tell her that she was pretty or that she looked lovely; that he desired her or had been waiting for just that moment? Was she mistaken to think that was what it was all about? He hadn’t caressed her nor even kissed her, and so when he had been on top of her in the darkness, could she not have been anyone? Is that how it was; impersonal and cold? Something of nothing . And where was the pleasure in it? It was always possible that he had enjoyed it but for certain, she hadn’t; in fact, she couldn’t see, even now, what there was to enjoy.
Carefully, she rolled onto her stomach. The only explanation had to be that she had done it wrong. She had known there was something she was supposed to do; that’s why she had asked her mother. If only Ma could have been honest with her instead of saying that she would know what to do when the moment came because that was clearly a lie; she hadn’t had a clue beforehand and she still hadn’t now, even after the event. Tears tracked
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