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“You have no idea what I feel, Glory. None. Don’t pretend to understand what’s happening between us, because you haven’t got a clue. You can say you feel nothing for me, but your body betrays you. Even now your nipples are stabbing little knots of desire, aching for me to notice them and to feel my touch. Don’t lie to me when we can both see how your body wants my ownership.”
Harsh, my words lash into the tiny space between us, filling the air and drawing our bodies closer. I press my hips into her stomach, pushing her backwards into the counter. If we had time and I thought she wouldn’t fight me, I’d hoist her onto it and prove how much her body doesn’t despise me. The moment calls for more than physical lust, if I expect to make true progress getting her to accept my claim as husband in truth and not just on paper.
I relax my control just enough to grind the hardness I can’t seem to tame around her deeper into the soft curve of her belly. Her breasts, larger than her frame would suggest when she would hide in bulky sweaters and poofy couture dresses, brush my dress shirt with every inhale. It’s the surprise widening her eyes that pulls me back from the ledge.
“I-I’m cold, you bastard. Th-that’s the only reason-” She lies so beautifully. A lie is a lie though, and I can’t allow her to think I’ll accept untruths between us.
“Let’s just test that theory then. My theory is you’re a beautiful little liar, Glory. I can feel the heat from your cunt all the way through my trousers. I’m going to theorize when I slide my hand into your panties, I’ll find a sopping wet pussy just begging me to pet it. Let’s test it, hmm?”
Without waiting for her to argue with me, I shove my hand under the waistband of her gray yoga pants. Surprise catches me when I realize she’s not wearing panties at all, but I don’t allow the unexpected pleasure to slow my movements. I tunnel my index and middle fingers into the furrow between what I can feel are plush, bare lower lips. Each digit brackets along the side of her rigid clit and, as predicted, she’s soaked.
“Just as I suspected. You can try to convince me of your hatred, Glory, but pussy doesn’t lie. You’ll come to my bed, willingly, once we’re wed.” She presses into me, rocking her hips to get more friction where she needs it from my palm as my fingers press further back until they’re buried in a channel so tight it nearly makes me cream myself imagining my cock being strangled in there.
“I-I don’t-”
“Shh, shh, shh, little killer. Let it happen. Soon it’ll be my cock where these fingers are. I’ll stuff you so full of me you’ll never take a step without my cum reminding you who you belong to. I’m going to breed this pussy, Glory. As many times as it takes to have you thick with my children. There is no in name only for us. Clear?”
The orgasm I could feel dancing around my fingers stalls and Glory’s eyes shutter closed. Her pleasure withdraws as though it was never there, and I feel robbed of it. The denial of her climax stabs at me, making my gut clench in frustration. Glory struggles against my hold and I reluctantly let her go, stepping back to give her space.
“If it’s children you want, grace another’s bed. You’ll never get them in mine. As Xavier was quick to learn, I’m as barren as an arctic tundra.” Misery looms heavy on her as my brain sluggishly fights through the rollercoaster of the past few minutes. So much to unpack from her statements.
“First of all, I give zero fucks what Xavier thought, and I don’t want his name on your lips when I just had my fingers deep inside that perfect cunt. There will be no other beds. Not for you or me. Ever. On this I will not negotiate.”
I need her to understand, I’m nothing like Xavier Kingston. Not only will I not tolerate the disrespect of infidelity on her part, I will not disgrace her by getting my dick wet anywhere but inside her delicious body.
“Or you?” Glory can try to hide her hope from me, but I hear it. She may not be ready to give me her heart, but she’s thawing. For a woman as abused and tortured as I know now that she’s been, hope is a dangerous gift to give. I won’t abuse it.
“Or me. When this cock rises, it does so for you. When it gets hard, you will come to me and ride it until we’re satisfied. A day will not pass where I am not inside you. Pleasuring you. Owning you. This cock is your new throne, Glory. You want your king on his knees, I will gladly bend before you to swallow every precious drop from the fountain of your cunt. One day you will realize how worshiped you are as the queen of my empire and you will know. I will only accept Glory for this cock.”
Her eyes as wide as saucers, the tip of her pink tongue swipes along her lower lip and I groan. I need space from the temptation to rush her any more than I already am. We need to discuss her claim of being infertile, but now isn’t the time.
“Now, go get dressed. Juliet should have hung it in your closet this morning while you had breakfast.” I left nothing to chance, and my directions to the house manager whose job it is to oversee all the house staff were clear.
“So sure of me, were you?” Glory arches an eyebrow in my direction, even as she sashays her delectable ass toward the door. Seeing her spirit return after her despair a few moments ago pleases me.
“Sure of us, Glory. Always. Now go and prepare. You will be an Allard before the afternoon is done.”
Seven
Glory
The dress is lovely, and nothing like I would have imagined Hunter would choose. I finger the slippery satin, knowing the vibrant red will look amazing against my pale skin and golden curls. Xavier never preferred me in red. Said it claimed power where I had none. The man delighted in making me smaller at every turn. I wonder if Hunter knew. If he’s being true in his claims to intend on protecting my power as the head of the Kingston empire. Making me stronger.
There are a dozen or more tasks sitting on the desk in the office, waiting for my decisions. I know I should shove the gown to the back of the closet and choose my own clothes. Then I could sneak downstairs and get some work done before the officiant arrives. There’s a steep learning curve ahead for me to figure out how to juggle all the enterprises Xavier had control of.
“Ma’am? May I assist in any way?” Juliet, the housekeeper Hunter tasked with hanging the dress in my room, is a stern woman. She’s run the estate since long before I arrived, though we’ve hardly ever spoken. Xavier preferred Snow and I to stay in the nursery wing as much as possible. Out of sight, out of mind.
“Did you know?” The question is out before I can censor myself.
“Pardon, ma’am. Did I know what?” Her eyes cloud with worry and I already have my answer.
“The things Xavier did to me. Did you know how he raped me. Beat me. Did. You. Know.” Rationally, I know I can’t eliminate everyone who was aware of the things my husband did to me. No one would be left to work in the estate.
“Yes. I saw the bruises. I have no idea the extent. You were hidden away in the nursery, and I wasn’t allowed in that wing without permission. But I knew. I’m…” She hesitates, and I realize I don’t want her apology. Nothing will undo what was done to me.
“Leave me. You may continue on as the house manager for now, but I don’t want to see you beyond the first floor of the estate. You will assign others to all tasks in my personal rooms. This is a kindness I am bestowing on you. Do you understand that?” Am I being ruthless? Possibly.
“Yes, ma’am.” Juliet quietly leaves and I refuse to feel any sort of way about the stricken look of remorse on her face. Too little. Too late.
