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Authors: Astrid Jane Ray

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BOOK: Virtue & Vanity
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Not replying to his insult seemed to be the best choice, but it didn’t help.

“Drink,” he said in a flat tone.

Images of my father’s drunken violent episodes flashed before my eyes. My oath of never tasting a single sip of that deadly liquid echoed in my mind. No matter how much I didn’t want to make him angry, I couldn’t get myself to raise the damned glass.

“Drink!” I flinched when he raised his voice.

This was a game of power and I was about to lose. He observed as I raised the glass, struggling with myself. My eyes filled with tears when I brought it to my shaky lips and took a sip of its content. The burning sensation in my throat was too strong so I didn’t dare drink anymore.

“More,” he said as if he could read my mind.

Gasping for air, I swallowed some more and looked at him with my teary eyes. 
Don’t cry. Don’t let him see the tears.

“All of it.” Amusement rang in his voice. He was enjoying this.

I decided to end the torture by gulping the entire content of the glass but it was too much and I ended up dropping it and spitting everything on the floor. I stood up to clean the mess that I had made, but he got up as well and approached me. He was so close, too close. Suddenly his hand touched my chin, tilted it up and confronted me with his cruel, green eyes. I turned into a pillar of salt as he gazed at me for a while, like he was about to maul me, and a cynical smile curved his lips when he noticed how much distress his touch had caused me.

“Are you afraid?” he asked me in a steely voice.

As I nodded, my body started shivering in response to his threatening presence. Awaiting his reply in genuine fear, I controlled the urge to cry. I didn’t want him to see me broken. I didn’t want him to have that kind of power over me again.

“Good. You should fear me,” he answered calmly, still glaring at me.

And just like that, it was over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

I winced from the sickening fear he evoked within me and I lost all of my control. He had won. Heavy tears spilled from my eyes and rolled onto my cheeks, forming a wet stream as I tried to breathe through the fierce sobs that emerged from the depths of my body. His gaze roamed along my probably red and puffed face, pausing at the edge of my eyelids. The longer he observed my tears, the more his face turned into an unreadable expression like he was taken aback by my undeniable display of weakness. Unexpectedly, the darkness in his eyes was replaced by a glimmer of light that was hanging on a thread. For a ridiculously short second it almost seemed like he wanted to tell me that there was no need to cry. His eyes lingered on my face, burning an impression that would haunt me for the rest of my life. Taking a deep breath, he parted his lips and just when he was about to speak, something within him shifted and he turned his head away from me. When his eyes focused on me again, his cruelty returned with a vengeance. The glimmer of light was dead and gone, the darkness ten times stronger than before.

“Do you remember what I told you about crying?”

I flinched when he spoke in a deep voice after the long break of silence. At that moment, I knew my tears meant nothing to him. I nodded because that was all I could do. I closed my eyes and willed myself to stop crying, but the sobs escaping my throat were unstoppable. It was beyond my control. When I opened my eyes, I met his cold, decisive gaze again. He leaned so close to me that I could smell his breath and I braced myself for whatever awaited me. For a moment, I thought he wanted to kiss me, but instead I heard him say the words I was dreading.

“Take off your dress,” he said in a low voice and the tears that were extremely annoying to him, refilled my eyes. “Stop crying. You’re acting like a child.”

His voice was composed and cold, but his eyes gleamed with menace. Trying to even out my breath, I finally brought my tears to a halt. The sudden heat ran through my body and I wanted to get away from that scary situation, but I knew I couldn’t escape, so I decided to reason with him.

“P-Please…” My voice shook uncontrollably. “Please, don’t do this.” I looked at him with a glimpse of hope—the hope he crushed the very moment he noticed it was there.

“Why not? Isn’t that what you were raised to do? To be a perfect wife? I’m sure you know what a wife’s duty is on her wedding night!”

He was approaching closer, and I stepped backwards until he pinned me against the wall with his strong body. I swallowed a lump of fear.

“I don’t know how to be a w-wife.”

“Well, it’s time you learn then.” He smiled sardonically. “Take. Off. The. Dress. Don’t make me say it again.” His voice bordered with evil and it chased away all of my sanity.

“I can’t.” I looked up at him with sheer desperation. “Sir, I can’t,” I whispered.

“You can’t?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at me incredulously. “Isabelle, it’s simple. I am your husband. That means I have rights.” My eyes widened. “Starting tonight, you have obligations as my wife, and nothing in this universe will save you from fulfilling them. Do I make myself clear?”

Completely terrified, I was trying to grasp the fact that his threats were real and that nothing would persuade him to change his mind. It was crystal clear that patience wasn’t one of his virtues, because in a matter of seconds he repeated his question.

“Do I make myself clear?” He raised his voice just above a whisper and abruptly leaned even closer to me.

I flinched because I thought he would hit me, but I managed to whisper my answer to him.

“Y-yes,” I stuttered, my eyes silently begging him to stop.

“Good. So you understand that if I tell you to take off the dress, you take off the fucking dress,” he said with a black expression on his face.

Suddenly I felt sick and lightheaded. I didn’t want this to happen, but I knew I had no other choice. Against my better judgment, I started taking off my wedding dress. As the white, silk fabric of the dress slowly fell down to the floor, I silently prayed for something to happen and save me, but my prayers went unanswered. Shame washed over me, and I didn’t dare look at him. Instead, I fixed my eyes on the floor and stared at my gown. He remained calm, just glaring at me for a few moments. Then he approached me and undid the hook on my bra. A shiver of fear ran through me from the contact and his cold gaze warned that I shouldn’t fight him. Like a coward of the worst kind, I observed as he slid the white straps of my bra down my arms until it ended up on the floor next to my gown. My breasts were exposed to him now and I instinctively covered them with my hands. He shook his head in disapproval, looked down at the only remaining item of clothing on my body and then returned his gaze on my face. Green eyes on fire pierced right into my soul.

His jaw clenched and he whispered my final condemnation. “Take it off.”

I couldn’t handle it anymore. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. After moments went by, he took matters into his own hands and in mere seconds I was completely naked in front of him. I wrapped my hands around myself in an attempt to cover my body as much as I could, but he wouldn’t allow it.

“Stop acting ridiculous. Put your hands down,” he protested.

I slowly put both of my hands down, displaying my nakedness for him and it felt like he was inspecting every inch of it with his gaze. Trapped in despair, I surrendered to the moment of truth that was guided by the cruel blackness in his eyes. Heaving, my chest rose up and down as his eyes roamed the length of my exposed body.

“What a hot little thing you are,” he said in a gruff voice and his eyes lit up with something I’d never seen in a man’s gaze before. “Such a pity you have yet to learn that men like me are not to be trifled with.”

I gasped in fright as his eyes locked with mine and he started unbuttoning his shirt. He took it off slowly, all the while observing my reaction.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

I brought my swollen eyes to his muscled chest. The toned muscles made him look so strong and powerful, whereas I must have looked weak and helpless like an animal trapped in a cage. With a smirk on his face, he leaned towards me and I inhaled the fumes of his expensive cologne, the scent that marked the man who wanted to hurt me. I could feel his sharp breath grazing the nape of my neck and I knew he was about to say something awfully humiliating, but nothing could prepare me for the horrific promise that escaped his taunting lips.

“It’s time to make this fucking charade of a wedding officially complete.”

I winced and tears formed in my eyes, blurring my vision. One of them escaped and I felt its burning saltiness rolling down my delicate skin. Sebastian focused his eyes on mine and raised his hand towards my face. I cowered away, thinking that he would strike me, but instead his knuckles slowly traced and wiped away the wetness on my face. His touch left me completely paralyzed as he stared at my collarbones before leveling his gaze back with mine.

“No more tears, Isabelle. It’s too late for that.” Determination loomed behind his hoarse voice.

I was so horrified that I couldn’t even bring myself to beg him for mercy anymore. I had realized that he had an enormous advantage over me. He was a man. He was a cruel, ruthless, beautiful and experienced man. And I—I was just a girl, a child compared to him, and I didn’t stand a chance against this coldblooded stranger. Then it hit me.

“I... I don’t even know you,” I spat out and looked at him miserably.

He smirked. “So? That didn’t seem to bother you when you said 
'I do’
. Besides, you knew what we would have to do tonight in order to make this marriage serve its purpose, so stop trying my patience because I don’t have much left.”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about but I took his threats seriously. I knew he spoke the truth. He wasn’t a patient man and I certainly didn’t want to provoke him to hurt me even more than he had already intended.

I heard him pull the zipper on his pants and even though I wanted to run with everything in me, I didn’t. Instead, I stood there, paralyzed, as he took off his clothes, and suddenly we were standing in front of each other, naked. Embarrassed, I looked away, but he placed his index finger on my cheek and made me face him again. I kept my eyes sharply focused on his face because I had never seen a naked man before, and the very thought of seeing him without clothes would send me over the edge. His finger started moving from my cheek all the way down my body, and his eyes followed its movement until he reached the skin on my lower belly and I winced and trembled violently. He sneered; amused by the fact that he had increased the level of my fear and shame. When he looked at me again, I realized that apart from contempt, there was also pure, animalistic lust gleaming from his eyes. He stared me down like he wanted to consume me and take it all, body and soul. I didn’t even want to think about all of the sick things he could do to me. Embarrassment crept up my cheeks, and he noticed as they were burned the darkest shade of red. I looked away, breaking the gaze between us and that was when he growled and leaned over me, scaring me with his undeniable dominance. I gasped in shock as his lips brushed against my ear.

“I want to see where else I can make you blush. Now be a good girl and lay down on the bed.”

I whimpered quietly and heavy tears invaded my swollen eyes, but I held them back. There was no point in crying because Sebastian had no compassion. I looked at him fearfully and with a defiant dose of hesitation, but as soon as he raised his eyebrows I did what I had been told to do. I went to the bed and lay down on my back.

“No. Turn around,” he said.

I let out a frightened gasp and once again obeyed him. The vibrations of my trembling body spread through the mattress. Soft linen sheets absorbed my hidden tears as I shivered from his touch. My conscience screamed at me to do something, but I ignored my own cry for help. I felt so guilty for being submissive, but I was too afraid to fight back. His hands traveled along my back, leaving me desperately ashamed because my naked body was displayed for him, and he took his time touching me. I was vigilant the entire time, wondering what his next move would be. I couldn’t stop trembling while awaiting and fearing his actions. His hand got lower and I tensed as he slipped it between my thighs. One of his hands continued caressing my back while the other one started circling around the area where I’d never been touched before; evoking the strangest feeling of warmth I hadn’t even known existed. As much as I tried to hate what he was doing to me, I couldn’t fight the sensation that started taking hold of my body. It was almost relaxing, and I started thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad after all, but I was wrong, because the next moment I felt his finger inside me and I cried out from the pain that rose all the way to my head. I winced because of the pain, but that didn’t stop him. I stilled and let him do what he wanted. I had to
.
 The feeling wasn’t even a bit pleasant; it was entirely humiliating.

He wanted to degrade me, and as humiliation replaced the pain, I felt the last traces of my dignity fade away with it. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me up. Anything would be better than the feeling of disgrace that attacked my weak mind. With everything in me, I wanted him to stop and I wondered how I was supposed to survive having sex with a man who could remain so cold while I was falling apart.

When he removed his finger, he took something from his jacket and climbed onto the bed. I heard the tearing sound of the foil and I realized he was putting on a condom. As his body covered mine, I felt the weight of a man on top of me for the first time in my life. A frightening awareness took hold of me when his weight pressed my feeble body roughly into the mattress and as I fought to recover from instant shock, he remained cold and emotionally detached. Filled with nothing but sheer terror, my body stiffened under his hard muscles. Cringing in anticipation, I couldn’t help but think about the fantasy I used to have about losing my virginity. I’d dreamt of gentle hands caressing me, and I could almost feel soft lips kissing me, whispering that it would be alright. I told myself that if I tried hard enough, maybe my mind could escape into that place, even if my body was condemned to endure the unexplainable cruelty of this cold man. That soothing place—the safe haven I longed for—was almost within my reach, but when he shifted his weight on top of me, I snapped out of my thoughts and returned to the horrifying reality. When he tried to pry my legs open, I panicked and attempted to fight back by clenching my legs together, even though I knew I was too weak to defend myself.

“Spread your legs and let me fuck you already.”

His horrifying words made me realize I couldn’t win this fight and that I was only prolonging my torture. I gave up and slowly started to spread my legs. I felt his erection and panic overwhelmed me. I tried to get away from his grip, but he held me too firmly.

“I... I can’t,” I said almost inaudibly.             

I could smell the soft breeze of mint mixed with the scent of alcohol and his expensive cologne when he whispered in my ear. “You can and you will. What did you think? That you could play wife to me? This is what you signed up for, 
baby girl
.”

Baby girl?
 The way he said it made my blood freeze because he was being deliberately obscure, stomping all over my battered pride. And then...

BOOK: Virtue & Vanity
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