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We’d fucked like wild animals.
No, I’d fucked her like a whore, expecting that was what she really was.
I’d told myself that once we were married, I’d lock her away so she could never cuckold me like her mother had her father.
Any time I had to travel, I’d lock her in a chastity belt and keep her in my hotel room waiting for me. Even then, I would have every child she bore DNA tested. The second one of them wasn’t mine, she would be penniless and out on her ass.
Those were the promises I’d made to myself until I pushed inside her tight little body and felt her innocence break at my intrusion.
No man had ever had her before.
I was the first to penetrate her, and so help me, I would be the last.
My cock stirred to life again as I thought about the way Amelia’s body had bent to me, how the fear in her eyes had turned to pain and then pleasure as I coaxed the orgasm from her body.
Perhaps there was a way to fix this.
Maybe there was some hope for us to find a modicum of pleasure in this farce of a marriage. Not much, but some.
God knew she was a spoiled little bitch, but unlike the other women of our caliber, she wasn’t an ice queen, not at her core.
She pretended, of course, but it had never fully seeped into her soul. Could I coax that small spark into a raging inferno of passion and lust?
She was all fire, rage, and hate.
A fine line existed between love and hate. I wasn’t naïve enough to think I could make her love me, but surely I could make her crave me. Really, that was all I needed. I could make her associate me with pleasure, train her to crave my touch.
Maybe tonight I would have to go back to the club for another celebratory drink. Not only had my soon-to-be wife been a virgin, touched only by me, but when I had her mewing and panting under me, she was the best fuck I’d ever had.
The way her tight little body gripped me, sucking me in further, begging for my come. The way she’d lost herself once she allowed herself to feel the pleasure only I would ever bring her.
I had a little virgin who was aching to be turned into a wanton little slut, and she would only ever know my touch. Surely that called for a drink.
Or maybe I should have Amelia meet me somewhere after, and I could show her a few other things she would be expected to do as my wife.
Maybe I wouldn’t touch her but force her to touch herself, wearing nothing but green silk while I watched. I could instruct her on how to bring pleasure to herself so she could do that each night, thinking of me until our wedding night.
Now that was an idea.
Have her bring herself pleasure each night thinking of me, learning that her own fingers might take the edge off in the short term, but only I could give her the release she really needed. By the time we got to our honeymoon suite, she would be the perfect, docile kitten begging for a treat.
I had planned to skip a honeymoon, but now I considered staying off work for a few days. Just long enough to have my new little wife properly trained in the ways to please me.
The door closed behind me and pulled me from my thoughts of Amelia.
CHAPTER 13
LUC
“Luc,” my father said, taking a seat at his desk and motioning for me to sit across from him. This was a man who exuded power and prestige. He aged well. Very well. I only hoped to be blessed with the same genes.
“Father.” I unbuttoned my suit jacket so I could sit. “You asked me to meet you up here.”
“Yes, I wanted to go over some plans with you. Now that you have rid us of the Dubois problem, for the moment, we have to take full advantage of this marriage.”
“Oh, I intend to,” I said, not meaning it as a double entendre, at least not until I had said it out loud.
“Yes, yes. Have fun with the girl, let her give you powerful heirs and pretty daughters, but that isn’t what I want to talk to you about.” My father sat back at his massive mahogany table, his fingers steepled in front of him and elbows resting on the hardwood.
