Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
ANNA
When Cash holds me close and runs his nose down the side of my throat, goose bumps scatter all over my body. Then he kisses me, and I can feel myself growing wet between my legs. This has never happened to me before. I’m not dumb. I know women do that when they get turned on from the books Jeremiah used to bring me, but our culture isn’t really focused on a woman’s pleasure. We are taught to lie there and let our husband have their way with us. Most women don’t even have an orgasm when they have sex with their husbands. That’s not important in our church.
It’s sad, and I’ve always dreamed of being with someone who cared if they made me feel good. The dream of marrying someone I love isn’t an option now that I’m married to Cash, but at least he didn’t send me back to the Prophet. His wives were often in the kitchen making bread with me, and I’d overhear them talk about his bedroom skills. Apparently, they never felt pleasure when they were with him. I might not feel pleasure with Cash either, but I don’t think he will intentionally hurt me.
Earlier, when Cash’s mom went into his closet and brought out a top and pair of pants, I was surprised for a couple of reasons. I’ve never worn pants before. It was always strictly forbidden. At the sight of them, an unexpected feeling of anger washed over me. He put me in another woman’s used clothing. I will forever be a replacement for his wife, who he loved and had children with.
There’s no logical reason for me to get angry at the man. He doesn’t owe me anything, but the thought of another woman touching him or him loving her makes my skin crawl.
Trying to calm my breathing, I push the thoughts of Cash’s wife out of my mind and try to focus on what my husband is saying.
“Wait, I have my own room, right?”
“Hell no. Why would my wife have a room separate from me?” Cash says angrily.
“I assumed our marriage is purely for show, so if you don’t have an extra room, I’m perfectly content sleeping on the floor.”
He stalks toward me, grabs me by the back of my neck, and pulls me into his solid body. I immediately feel his arousal pushing against my torso, and my body begins to tremble as my eyes widen in shock.
“Why would a man of my age choose to marry a young, stunning woman and then let her sleep in a separate bed instead of keeping me warm at night?”
He expects me to share his bed like a real wife? No. I can’t do that. That was the whole reason I ran from the church; I didn’t want to be with a man. The conversation I had with my mother, the night before I escaped, races through my thoughts.
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “I’m scared, Cash.”
“Don’t worry, baby. You’re safe here with us. I’m going to take care of you and protect you from the assholes you ran away from.”
“When am I leaving here?”
“Leaving?” With a pinched expression, he loosens his grasp on me.
“Yeah, after this fake marriage is over, I’ll need to leave.”
“Baby girl, I’m not letting you go, and I can assure you, this marriage is very real.”
With that he grabs my throat and crashes his lips against mine. As my mouth opens in surprise, he pushes his tongue inside and thoroughly dominates me.
When we part, I feel my cheeks burn as I struggle to calm my breathing. I resist the urge to trace my lips with my fingers. My first kiss. Unsure how I should be feeling, I allow Cash to grab ahold of my hand and guide me upstairs.
Taking in the sight of his bedroom, with its masculine décor and a huge bed, positioned front and center, my face flames an even deeper shade of red.
Cash lets go of my hand and moves over to the dresser. He kicks off his boots and begins to unbutton his flannel shirt.
Wait, he’s not… oh, he is, he’s undressing in front of me.
Everything in me screams to look away as he slowly and methodically strips off his clothing, folding each item neatly and placing them on a chair by the dresser. When he reaches his underwear, I can feel myself start to shake, but I still can’t avert my gaze.
As they, too, are placed on the pile of clothing, Cash then turns to face me, naked and hard. He pauses for a beat, observing me silently with a questioning frown on his face. Then, he stalks toward a door in the corner of the room and disappears from sight.
Moments later, I hear the sound of running water. Unsure what to do next, I perch on the edge of the mattress and await the return of my husband.
When Cash comes back into the bedroom, I expect him to pounce on me, but he doesn’t. After slipping into a pair of boxers, he climbs into bed and draws me close. As I lay my head on his chest, I can feel the warmth radiating from his body and hear the reassuring thump of his heartbeat.
Soon enough, the soothing pull of sleep overtakes me, and I enter into a blissful state of deep sleep, experiencing the best night of rest in my life. Such safety and comfort is unfamiliar to me, but I hold onto the hope that it will last.