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Something about her is delicate, almost fragile in her beauty. Though she’s thin, it’s like she’s made up entirely of soft edges–the personification of the saying “not a mean bone in her body.”
I watch her for several minutes, the way her light eyes scan the pages before her almost hungrily, how her hair falls like a dividing curtain between her and the person to her left. She holds a peacefulness I’ve never been able to find in life and could easily envy if I thought about it.
Innocence radiates from my betrothed, a naivete that surrounds her like a protective cushion and yet leaves her wide open–vulnerable to all the evils of the world. Like me.
I could almost feel bad for what I’m about to do. But my jaw’s still bruised from Nicolo’s power play, and I can’t just let that kind of behavior slide. It’s my turn to make things square. Time to make a public display.
I stride across the silent first-floor. The second level overlooks the main atrium, almost like the triforium of an old church. Darkwood railing runs the perimeter, revealing a good number of students studying on the second level as well. More of an audience, which suits me.
When I reach Silvia’s side, she’s still so lost in her book that she doesn’t even notice me. A hint of curiosity spikes in me as I wonder what could possibly be so engrossing. I peek over her shoulder at the title written across the page’s heading, but I don’t recognize it.East.I don’t recognize the author, Edith Pattou, either.
And still, she hasn’t noticed me standing mere inches from her elbow. To get her attention, I slip my fingers beneath the cover and flip the heavy, hardbound book closed with a thud. The cover’s decorated with a woman standing next to a polar bear–so definitely fiction.
Silvia looks up at me, startled confusion darkening her hazel eyes. Then they widen when they meet mine. “Pyotr,” she gasps, leaning away from me as if instinctively knowing what’s coming.
“Having a good time?” I ask pointedly.
“I, uh…” She glances down at her book and then back up at me, biting her lip. Slowly, she rises from her chair.
Keeping her eyes on my face, she backs away cautiously, like one might from a dangerous predator.
“I bet you loved siccing your brothers on me, didn’t you, Little Princess?” I press, stalking her.
“No, I didn’t… I’m so sorry, Pyotr. I never knew that’s what would happen. I just–”
“Let me make one thing clear.” I close the distance between us with one stride and comb my fingers into her long hair. It’s soft, flowing through my fingers like water. I grip the back of her head, halting her retreat.
Her breath catches audibly in her throat, her lips parting slightly, and my pulse quickens. She’s tantalizingly close, her hands pressed lightly against my chest in a defensive stance.
“Your father sold you to me,” I say softly, though my voice carries in the deathly still room.
Watchful eyes track us closely, books and study materials are forgotten as they witness our interaction with interest.
“It wasn’t your brothers’ decision to make. It was your father’s. And he agreed to it. So you’remine. No matter what you want. No matter what Nicolo thinks. You belong to me, and I can use you as I please.”
With my free hand, I grip her hip and spin her, pinning her back against my chest so her ear is by my lips. All eyes are focused on us as I snake my arm around her waist, feeling her gentle curves. My other hand claims her shoulder, stopping her from wiggling away.
“What are you doing?” Silvia asks, her voice quivering in fear.
It makes my stomach tighten uncomfortably. A strange, unusual sensation for me. I’ve grown so accustomed to compromising my morals that this shouldn’t bother me. But oddly enough, I don’t like knowing she’s scared of me. Still, orders are orders, and I need to hold my ground.
“I’m showing you and everyone here exactly what that means,” I state, running my hand around her shoulder and over her exposed chest.
My cock twitches against her ass as I cup her warm, firm breast over her pastel-colored summer dress.
“Pyotr, stop!” she pleads, gripping my wrists and trying to shove my hands away. She squirms in my arms, trying to slip away from me. But all she ends up doing is grinding against my cock, stimulating me.
Though it wasn’t my intent initially, I can’t help but notice my physical response to her. The scent of her subtle perfume triggers something instinctual in the back of my mind, further turning me on. It drives me forward, dampening my hesitation as my unexpected desire takes the reins. I hold her tight, one arm crushing her against my growing erection, the other groping her chest so everyone can see.
But this isn’t just about taking what’s mine. This is about making sure everyone knows it. “Even if we agreed to an extended engagement, I can do whatever I want to youwheneverI want.” My lips graze her earlobe, drawing a shiver from her. “Maybe I should just fuck the Marchetti Princess now right here in front of everyone to prove that you’re mine.”
She whimpers. “Please don’t,” she begs, her tone tearful.
I almost stop. Physically, my body tenses, locking up as it rejects my behavior. But I can’t. I haven’t finished what needs to be done.
“Why should I? Your purpose in life is to spread your legs for me whenever I want, to have my babies when I want children. Why shouldn’t we start right now? I bet your brothers would stop objecting to our marriage if I knocked you up.” Withdrawing my hand slightly, I slip my fingers beneath the fabric of her dress.
Her skin is shockingly soft and supple, and as I graze her nipple, it puckers readily at my touch.
