Page 6 of His Bride

“You know, you’re a bright light in this prison.”

“This isn’t a prison, Matty. You’ll see.”

She does my hair in voluminous curls, leaving it loose. All of the clothes in the closet are expensive and things I would have picked out for myself, right down to the Buxom by Migan Jorgensen bras and panties. I pull on a knee-length sundress but don’t see any shoes, not that I could get them on.

“I’m ready.”

“Great. I’ll take you to Dory.”

I follow her out of the room and down the hallway toward a closed double door. She knocks, and I grab her hand suddenly, scared to be alone with whoever is on the other side of it. I can do this. I’m a Vitali, for God’s sake.

“Come in,” a deep voice calls. It sends a shiver down my spine.

“Thank you for your help, Cash.” I decided that showing my fear is a weakness I can’t afford right now.

“You are so welcome, Matty. You go on now. Everything will be fine, I promise. When you’re done, I’ll be in the kitchen. Come find me and I’ll feed you.” She lets go of my hand and turns, and walks away.

I take a deep breath and open the door.

“Hello, Matilde,” the voice says. My gaze swings to him, sitting behind his desk. I have no idea who this is. I mean, he looks familiar, but I can’t place him.

“What kind of man sends his little sister to do his dirty work?” I ask, biding my time, thinking about who this man could be.

“Did you want me to bathe you? That can certainly be arraigned, Matilde. I’ll take you back to my room right now, strip you down, and wash your perfect, curvy body. Is that what you want?” he asks. His voice is so seductive; I almost say yes. Almost.

“Who the fuck are you?” I blurt out instead.

“I’m hurt. You don’t remember me?”

“Should I?” I ask, moving closer to his desk but not all the way up to it.

“No matter. You’ll never forget me after this,” he says, smirking at me. I know that smirk.

“Mr. O’Shaughnessy?” I ask, remembering him from dinner at my aunt and uncle's house.

“There it is. Please call me Dorian,” he says.

“Why am I fucking here? I don’t understand. I thought you were fucking friends with my uncle. You have to know that this is a declaration of war.”

“I am friends with your uncle. An alliance is still what I seek.”

“Then why fucking kidnap me?”

“Watch your mouth, Matilde, or I will take great pleasure in making it dirty,” he warns.

He stands and comes close to me, reaching for me. I can’t have this man touch me. Without thinking about the consequences, I haul back and spit right into his face. It hits his cheek and starts sliding down it. He smirks at me again before wiping it off his face and sucking his wet fingers into his mouth. My traitor pussy clenches in… anticipation. No, that can’t be. What the fuck is wrong with this guy? What the fuck is wrong with me?

“You’re a disgusting monster,” I say, but I’m not entirely sure I mean it. Who does that? Who does this? “I don’t understand what is happening.” The admission leaving my lips kills me a little bit. I’m a Vitali, for fuck’s sake. I cower to no man; in fact, they cower to me. Why isn’t this one?

“You will give yourself to me, Matilde. I want it all. Your heart will be mine. Your soul will become part of mine. Your body will be mine to pleasure as I see fit. You will take every inch of my cock whenever I demand it. Do you understand me?” I can’t give anything to a monster like him. Unbidden tears fill my eyes, lashing a hot trail down my cheeks as they fall. “You look so pretty when you cry,mo ghrá.” That’s the language I heard in my dreams. Is it Gaelic? “Even your tears will be mine.” His thumbs reach out and catch my tears. He rubs one of his thumbs over my full bottom lip and does the same thing to himself with his other thumb. The salty taste of my tears hits my tongue. I swallow the moan that rises, unwanted and out of place. I tell myself that a sexual reaction to this monster is normal. It’s natural. If Oliva Benson has taught me anything, it’s that it’s normal.

“Why the fuck would I ever do that?” I ask; my ability to curb my attitude is gone. I try to step back and away from him. He can’t touch me again. His presence is overpowering, and that fuckingSavaugeis fucking with my senses. His hand reaches out and wraps his hand around my throat. He squeezes the air from my lungs. I am powerless to stop him.

“This won’t be a marriage of convenience. I want you in all ways.”

“Marriage?” I ask, confused. I thought he just wanted sex. Marriage is a whole different ball game. Marriage, at least to me, is forever. Can I give forever to this man?

“Yes, Matilde mine, if you don’t marry me, take me into your body, and give me heirs, Iwillkill your whole entire family.” He loosens his hand but doesn’t remove it entirely. Marry him? Sleep with him? Is that something I can do?

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