by C. Hallman
“It’s just some lube to make sure I won’t hurt you,” he explains.
He moves closer until I can feel his thighs touching mine. Letting go of his cock, he reaches between my legs and runs his fingertips through my slit ever so gently. His skilled fingers draw small circles over my clit, igniting sparks of pleasure in my core.
If I could, I would probably moan, arch my back, or lift my hips to meet his hands, but all I can do is lie there and feel it. After a few moments, his fingers slide farther down and slip into my pussy with ease.
He pumps his finger in and out a few times before withdrawing and sliding down farther between my ass cheeks. No. No. No. I want to tighten up, squeeze my butt together, but I can’t do anything as he massages my puckered hole.
“I told you this was mine as well, and you said I can do whatever I want.” He smirks. “This is going to be perfect because you can’t clamp up, and that’s what makes it hurt. Being relaxed and unable to move is going to make for a pleasurable experience. You’re going to love getting your ass fucked.” And then he forces his finger inside my ass.
I expect it to hurt badly, but it’s simply a light uncomfortable sting. He starts pumping his finger in and out of my ass with ease, thanks to the lube. It feels so wrong, dirty, depraved… yet I don’t want him to stop. My nerve endings inside my ass are on fire, shooting waves of pleasure straight to my core.
Only when he adds a second finger does it get uncomfortable again. Then he adds a third. Oh god. Just when I think I can’t take the pressure any longer, he pulls out of my ass and shoves all three fingers into my wet pussy.
I almost come right then and there.
He starts finger fucking me with lazy strokes while his other hand roams over my body with a featherlight touch. Leaning in, he starts kissing my stomach and up my breast until his mouth is on my right nipple, swirling his tongue around it and sucking lightly.
Another wave of pleasure crashes into me, and I know I’m going to come soon. Closing my eyes, I do the only thing I can and give in to the feeling.
I don’t know what I expected Alaric to do when I was unconscious, but it wasn’t this. When he drugged me before, I just know I woke up sore. I figured he manhandled me and took me roughly. Maybe I was simply sore because it was my first time.
Because right now, he’s doing the opposite of manhandling me. He is worshiping my body, touching every inch of it like he wants to memorize every curve of me.
He switches to my other nipple, giving it the same attention while moving his finger in and out of my pussy faster. When he adds pressure to my clit, rubbing it with the rough pad of his thumb, I come undone.
The orgasm slams into me like a tidal wave that almost knocks me out. My mind is reeling, but my body remains still, unable to move an inch. All I can do is let the intense feeling run through me.
“I felt your cunt squeeze my finger. Did you just come, Monroe? Do you like being helpless and unable to tell me no? Do you like me doing whatever I want to you? Because I think you do. I think you like being a little toy, letting me use you however I see fit.”
I want to deny him. I want to tell him that he’s wrong, but I already know that would be a lie. I don’t know if he twisted me to be this way or if I was like this all along, but the result is the same. I do like it. I like what he does to me, no matter how wrong and depraved it is.
“Now that you’re all relaxed and loosened up, I’m going to take your last virgin hole. I’m going to make you mine in every way.”
If it wasn’t for the endorphin rush still swirling around in my brain, I would probably be scared right now.
He lifts my body off the bed and carefully turns me around to lie on my stomach. He moves the pillow from under my head and stuffs it under my stomach instead. He turns my head to the side and swipes the hair out of my face, making sure I’m comfortable and able to breathe well before he moves behind me and between my legs.
The sound of the lube bottle being opened again meets my ear moments before a cold liquid trickles down between my butt cheeks. I can feel Alaric’s finger on me a second later, massaging in the lube. At first just around my puckered hole, but then he enters me again, two fingers at a time.
The feeling is still foreign but not as weird as it was the first time. He fucks my ass with his fingers for a few minutes, stretching it until he is sure I can take his cock.
“I think your ass is ready, Monroe. I think my cock is gonna fit nicely in this tight hole. And I think you’re going to come harder than you ever have.”
He removes his fingers and replaces them with the smooth head of his dick. Slowly, he pushes inside my back entrance. If I could talk, I would tell him to stop or at least slow down. But he just keeps pushing his too-big cock inside my small hole, stretching me so much I think he might be tearing me open.
I feel so full, so much pressure, and for the first time tonight, I’m desperate for him to stop. That thought pops like a balloon on a needle when Alaric snakes his hand around to play with my clit. His fingers draw firm circles over it while he fucks my ass in slow but deep thrusts.
The discomfort rapidly dissipates, leaving behind a pleasurable sensation that soon turns into pure bliss. How can this feel so good?
“Fuck, Monroe,” Alric murmurs into my hair before swiping it away to run open-mouth kisses over my neck and shoulder. “You feel so fucking good. You’re perfect. Every single inch of you is perfect, and the best part… you’re all mine.”
My eyes flutter close as another orgasm slams into me. It comes suddenly but seems to go on forever. In my mind, I moan, my back arches, and my muscles tighten, but in reality, I’m completely still while my release runs through my body like a silent storm.
Alaric is still fucking my ass when I come down from my high, but his hands are now holding my hips, keeping me in place as his thrusts become erratic and his grunts turn louder.
“Fuck, I’m going to blow a load deep into your tight ass…” With one last violent thrust, he buries his cock in my ass and holds himself there while coating my insides with his cum. His body goes slack on top of mine, and for a second, I panic. He is so heavy it’s hard for me to breathe, and I have no way of letting him know.
Luckily, he shifts his weight and gets off the bed a moment later, letting me breathe easily again. I follow him with my eyes as much as I can, watching him disappear into the bathroom and return with a washcloth in his hand.
He uses the cloth to wipe between my legs. It’s warm, and he is being so gentle that it actually feels good against my still sensitive skin. He takes his time cleaning me up, then throws the washrag into the laundry basket.
When he climbs back into the bed, he sits up with his back against the headboard and lifts me off the mattress. I still can’t move, but he has no trouble maneuvering my body to pull me onto his lap and cradle me against his chest. I know I should be mad at him, furious for violating me like this, but right now, I simply feel content. My body and mind are worn out, but I feel safe and taken care of.
My limbs are heavy and useless, and my eyelids are starting to feel the same way. I want to stay awake and talk to him about all of this, but I’m so tired. I can talk to him tomorrow. With my cheek pressed against Alaric’s firm chest, he strokes my hair, and I let the steady beat of his heart lull me to sleep.
20
Alaric
Today is the day I'm getting married. The day I officially make Monroe mine, whether she likes it or not. After tonight, there will be no way for her to escape.
I feel a strange sense of unease as I button my vest. Alessandro and Savio are in the room with me. The leader of the Lombardi family drags on a cigar, watching me closely.
Unfortunately for Alessandro, I know exactly what's on his mind—or rather, who.
And he's not getting her, not at any cost and not any price.
I do my best to act polite around Alessandro, but aim most of the things I say at his half brother, Savio. The other man smirks as
he begins to notice me snubbing him.
"You seem distant today, Alaric," Alessandro tells me sharply. "I hope this marriage won't affect the work you do for us. Remember, you have a weakness now."
I know he's talking about Monroe. My hands form fists at my sides as Savio claps me on my back, muttering in my ear, "Ignore him."
I give a barely perceptible nod, but Alessandro isn't done yet.
"You know I mean your future wife, don't you? I'm sure you don't want to see her hurt, Alaric. Not on her wedding day."
I pounce forward, but Savio steps between us before my fist makes contact with his brother's jaw. He turns to Alessandro, hissing, "You're drunk. Get out of here, go to one of your whores or something."
Alessandro smirks in response as he stumbles out of the room. I'm still rattled, so I appreciate the tumbler of whiskey Savio forces into my hand.
"Drink. You'll need nerves of steel for the day ahead of us."
I drink in deep, thirsty gulps.
"The party was a mistake," Savio mutters. "We never should've taken it as far as it went. We shouldn't have made you do that with Monroe."
I nod just as Alessandro appears back in the room. I tense up right away. I've seen him like this before, and I know full well the prick is just looking for trouble. But my hands are tied. Alessandro runs the Lombardi family, and by pissing him off, I don't just risk my job. I risk my life and Monroe's, too.
"Why are you telling him that bullshit?" He laughs. "We're like family, aren't we, Alaric?"
"Of course," I lie through gritted teeth. Either Alessandro is too drunk to sense my mocking tone or he just doesn't give a damn as he saunters forward, grinning at me.
"We're brothers, Alaric. My father brought you up just like he did Savio. Like one of us."
I nod, remembering the beginning of my career with the family. They did everything for me. Savio and Alessandro's father was a cruel man, but he showed me an unexpected kindness when he took me in as a sixteen-year-old kid with nowhere to go.
"But women..." Alessandro smiles. "They're nothing but whores. Whores to share and get rid of when they are all used up. Wouldn't you agree, Alaric?"
The smile I force onto my face takes every ounce of self-control I have left. "Of course, Alessandro."
This finally shuts him up, and he saunters out of the room while Savio tries to calm me down with only a few minutes remaining before the ceremony I'm already dreading. Not because of Monroe, fuck no. I'm dreading it because Alessandro will be there, and I just know he's poised to jump at my woman again.
I need to keep Monroe away from him, that's for sure. He's barely holding back today. If I leave it longer than this, he'll jump her bones, and I'm not letting that fucking happen. If I'm forced to choose between my life and saving Monroe from this prick, I'm afraid I'll pick the latter.
Vowing to myself to keep the two separated, I follow Savio out onto the mansion's terrace. There's a makeshift altar set up along with an arch of red roses. It looks pretty, if there was no ominous tension in the air. But the air is thick with anticipation, and my stomach sinks with dread. I have this inescapable feeling tonight won't end well.
There are only about ten men here, all part of the Lombardi family and their employees. My eyes scan the crowd.
Savio and Alessandro are half-brothers and heirs to the Lombardi family after the passing of their father, who started me in their twisted, dark world.
There are three guards whose names I don't know—tall, beefy guys who women fawn over... until they find out who they work for. I think two of them are twins, and the other is Savio's other half brother—not related to the Lombardis but taken in under their wing just like I was.
The other five are men who work for the Lombardis in various positions. I recognize one of them from the night of the party when I was forced to fuck Monroe in front of everyone.
I remember that night as my cock grows heavier. Maybe marrying Monroe isn't such a bad thing, after all. Maybe we can make this work for us. Maybe we won't make each other as miserable as I fear we will.
But the fact remains, Monroe is at my mercy, and I'll use force to get what I want if I have to.
This is the life I chose, and now Monroe is a part of it.
After tonight, she'll be my wife in good and bad, in sickness and in health. And no one will be able to take her away from me ever again.
She's stuck by my side, whether she likes it or not. I want to believe I'm growing on her, that she wants this, wants me, but something tells me she might keep fighting me. I must be one sick fuck, but I'm looking forward to putting her brattiness to rest once and for all.
21
Monroe
Like every woman, I’ve envisioned my wedding since I was a little girl. Prince Charming sweeps me off my feet and asks me to marry him in a romantic proposal. We get married on a beach or maybe in an old barn with a flower arch. In none of my fantasies did it happen like this.
Alaric is no Prince Charming. I didn't even get a proposal, and this wedding is not the happiest day of my life like it’s supposed to be.
The house we’re getting married in is beautiful, and even the dress is gorgeous, but everything else is wrong.
“You look very pretty,” Ciara tells me. She is about my age but apparently has been working here at the Lombardi residence since she was fifteen. It’s a piece of information she dropped earlier, and I’m not sure if it was an accident or not.
“Thank you for helping me get ready.” I don’t really know her, but I’m so glad I didn’t have to do this on my own. I don’t know any more people here except the men who made Alaric fuck me in front of them. To say I’m uncomfortable around them is an understatement.
“No problem, it’s been nice to get away from my normal duties.” She smiles, but it quickly falters. She’s been like this all morning. Every time she says something, she seems nervous about it as though she worries she says something wrong.
“How did you end up working here?” I ask as Ciara pins up my hair. Her hands freeze for a second before she continues taming my locks without a word. I don’t ask again because I don’t want to pry, but I make a mental note to ask Alaric about it later. Something is off about this whole situation, and I’m going to figure out what it is.
The room settles in an uncomfortable silence, which is only broken when someone knocks on the door, making both of us flinch.
One of the guards opens the door and sticks his head into the room. “They are ready for you.”
“Can we have another minute?” I ask, hopeful for a little more time.
“No, you are expected now,” he snaps, crushing my plan to stall. I guess it doesn't matter if I do this now or in an hour. It’s inevitable either way.
“Good luck,” Ciara murmurs as I get up from the chair.
“I really wish you could come with me,” I tell her.
She immediately shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m allowed to.”
Allowed to?
“Enough small talk. Hurry up,” the guard urges impatiently. “I don’t have all day.”
Despite his growing irritation, I give Ciara a quick hug. My arms wrap around her body, and for a moment, she simply stiffens as if she wasn’t expecting this kind of affection. Just when I think she won't hug me back, her arms come around my torso briefly, and she squeezes slightly.
I release her, and we share a sad smile before I spin around and follow the guard out into the hallway. I wonder if I’ll see her again. I hope I do.
The guard leads me through the house, past multiple armed men standing guard at every exit until we make it out to the backyard. Alaric is standing at the edge of the terrace with a priest beside him. Savio and a few other men are also here. I count five total.
There is no music playing, and all the other people are randomly standing around or sitting on the outside furniture. There are no decorations, no family and friends, no happy memories to be made.
I walk up to where
Alaric is standing. Stopping right in front of him, I tilt up my head and gaze at his face. He doesn't like that he is in awe of me or even that he finds me beautiful. His eyes are cold, empty, harsh. It’s like he doesn't want to be here, and I don’t understand what is happening.
He wasn’t like this last night or even this morning. The things he said, the way he made me feel, was it all fake? Or did he simply change his mind? I’m about to ask him if he still wants to do this when he suddenly turns away from me to face the priest.
“Begin,” he orders. “Just do the basics. No need to draw this out.”
I wince, feeling like I’ve just been slapped.
“Yes, hurry up, Father, so we can celebrate this union with a party.” Alessandro laughs, and my stomach churns. I do not want to be here for another one of his parties.
The priest rushes through the whole wedding, cutting it so short, it doesn't take more than five minutes until we are officially married. There is not even a kiss at the end. This must be the least romantic wedding of the century.
“You can go now,” Alessandro dismisses the priest, who can’t get away fast enough. “Let’s eat and drink some champagne.” He claps his hands together in excitement and heads inside.
Alaric holds out his arm, and I loop mine around. We follow Alessandro even though all I want to do is run in the opposite direction. The other men follow as well, and I recognize two of them from the other night.
“Can we leave?” I whisper so only Alaric can hear.
“Not yet.” He shakes his head without even looking at me. His jaw is set in a tight line, and his eyes are full of anger. Why is he so angry? Does he hate being married to me that much?
Tears prick at my eyes at the realization that this is my life now. I’m married to a man who doesn't love me and who possibly even hates me. A man who kills people for a living and wants me drugged so he can fuck me any way he wants to.