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“This ceremony is to prepare you for your husband, and to bless your marriage.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, so I didn’t reply, instead I just laid there and watched him. His eyes were a green color that seemed to glow in the shadows. I watched them travel from my head down my body to where my bare toes peeked out from under my gown and a predatory smile pulled his lips back, showing off his bright white teeth.
“You’re the priest?” I voiced the doubt swirling around in my head. I’d never seen a priest look like this before. His shirt sleeves were rolled up on his forearms, and I was pretty sure I could see the dark swirls of tattoos on his skin, but in the dark, it could have been shadows.
“Were you expecting someone else?” He raised one harsh eyebrow at me.
“No,” I whispered and then took a deep breath, fighting the tonic to form more words. “I don’t know what to do.”
That snarly smile graced his face again and he ran the back of his finger over the pads of my toes on one foot, then fingered the hem of my gown. “What do you want to do?”
His question surprised me, and I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly as I tried to form an answer. “Get this over with, I guess.”
I’d never admit it, but his gentle touch on my toes was making things stir inside of me. He wasn’t at all what I expected, and the pure…dominanceof him and his presence was making me, warm.
Like all over.
Warmth filled my limbs and worked its way to my torso and then lower as he watched me with his silent stare.
“Then let us get on with it then.” He said putting one knee on the bed next to my legs and leaned over me until his face was only a foot away. “First, let’s get this off,” reaching up before gently pulling the bow loose on the tie at my throat. I could feel my pulse racing in the skin right below his fingers.
“Why?” I whispered, “Why take it off?”
“Because I want it off,” he said firmly and reached down to the tie between my breasts and pulled that one free.
I looked past his head to the ceiling and tried not to moan when the fabric brushed against my nipples. They were hard and ached to be touched, though I couldn’t figure out why.
He slid the third and final bow free and the gown I wore opened, sliding off my body to reveal all of my skin to his eyes as he looked down at me.
I was going to pass out.
My heart was racing far too fast for my own good and I was going to faint.
“Look at me, Arianna,” He commanded in a low voice and my eyes snapped to his, “Don’t look anywhere else but at me. Do you understand?”
“No,” I admitted, “I don’t understand anything right now.”
He smirked again and ran the back of his hand down my stomach and the skin quivered under his touch. “I’m the only thing in this room that matters to you right now,” he spoke as he ran his warm palm over my hip and thigh before hooking it under my knee and pulling it wide, opening my legs to him.
I bit back a groan of embarrassment as he stared at my most private area like he was the wolf in a little old lady’s clothing. His expression was purehunger.
That should repulse me. The man that was entrusted by parents to perform… never mind.
This man wasn’t honorable, and neither were my parents or any other parents who willingly allowed a stranger to rip through their virgin daughter’s hymen in the name of tradition.
“Just do it,” I panted. Desperate for the man to get it over with and leave me alone so I could think straight again. Because there was something about him that clouded my senses far worse than any dose of tonic ever did. “Please.”
“Are you wet for me?” he asked and I shivered at the repulsiveness of this question.
My eyes rounded and I shook my head quickly. I was a virgin, but I wasn’t innocent of the arousal of women and what happened to our bodies when it occurred. I was twenty years old, not five.
“Then we need to get you wet, or I’ll rip you open when I take you.” He said, pushing my legs open wider and kneeling between them.
“Isn’t that the point?” I asked, closing my eyes.
“Maybe to some, but not to me,” He answered quickly.
“How noble of you,” I said before I could stop myself, and then I flinched when his hand moved, expecting to get hit. When it didn’t come, I cracked one eye open to see him bent over me still, staring down at my scrunched-up face.
His fingers slid under my chin, and he tilted my head to the side, showing the side of my face that my mother had hit before she left. “They hit you?”
