Twenty-Eight #2
Jorge peels off to check the town hall, while I hold Amelia and we wait for Bastien. He steps out of his Rolls, two of his guards flanking him.
Amelia’s hand clenches on my arm and she glances about, down the street in both directions. Then she takes a steadying breath, straightens her spine, and fixes me with a glare like this is all my fault.
She’s frightened, masking it with fury. I can feel it in her grip and see it in the line of her jaw. Yet she’s standing here anyway, chin raised provocatively, ready to marry a man she still half-hates, because she’s telling herself it’s to protect her sister.
I’m not convinced that’s the whole answer. I hope it isn’t.
“Ready?” Bastien asks.
I glance at the town hall as Jorge emerges, giving me a nod. “I certainly am,” I say with feeling. “Let’s do this thing.”
Amelia stumbles as we walk to the door, bracing herself with her grip on my arm. I’m ready to catch her if I need to, but she stands tall, daring me to interfere or make a comment.
“Uneven sidewalk,” I murmur. “If you’d twisted your ankle just now, I’d have had this town’s entire public works department fired by the end of the day.”
Her lips twitch despite her attempts to hide it with a scowl. “Even you couldn’t do that.”
“Would you like to wager?”
“I’ve got nothing to bet with,” she says. “You’ve already taken my ass.”
I grin at that, unable to help myself. “I’m going to enjoy being married to you, Miss Anderson.”
“And I want a book on toxic plants for Christmas.”
Within, the carpets are threadbare and the décor is dated, but I don’t care.
This is a formality to bind this woman with something more permanent and scissor-resistant than the cuffs I’ll be using tonight.
Judge McKinnon is the town officiant, and he gives me a nervous look before hiding it behind an insincere smile.
“What a happy occasion,” he begins, “and such a lovely couple.”
Amelia scoffs, loud enough to make him pause, and I have to turn my head away to hide my smile.
We’re not even married and she has me smiling more.
“Uh, right.” McKinnon checks his notes like he’s forgotten who we are, then clears his throat. “We are gathered here today to join Lukas and Amelia in marriage.”
She stiffens beside me, face pale.
“If there is any person here who knows of any reason why these two should not be joined in marriage, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
Amelia presses her lips together, her hand tightening on my arm. She sways slightly, then corrects herself.
Bastien is quiet, standing behind me. Jorge and one of Bastien’s security loiter at the back, and McKinnon glances at them before continuing.
“Lukas, do you take Amelia to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward?”
“I do.” A hundred times, I do. My heart swells; this feels so right, like the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place, or the light in the midst of an eternally dark life.
“Amelia, do you take Lukas to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward?”
She freezes beside me. Her throat jerks as she swallows. She glances away, then back at McKinnon, lips working as though she’s about to speak. But she doesn’t.
“Amelia?” McKinnon prods.
“I…” She closes her eyes, takes a slow breath, then opens them again. “I…”
“…do,” I murmur quietly. “Be a good girl.”
She shivers from head to toe, like a cold gust of wind ran beneath that tight dress she’s wearing, and then she braces. It’s anger; I can see it in the way her eyes flash.
“I don’t.”
That’ll be a spanking later.
“Thank you,” McKinnon says. “If you have rings, please exchange them now.”
Bastien steps forward on cue, giving me a small black box.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Amelia demands. “I said I don’t. I do not agree to marry this… this… asshole.”
I pull out the rose-gold wedding band I had prepared; it matches her engagement ring. “We’ve been over this,” I say quietly, taking her hand. She stares at me, unresisting as I slide the ring onto her finger, pushing it up against the other. “Your sister, remember? Love will come, remember?”
“What the fuck did you do, Van Wyk?” she bites out. “Did you blackmail a goddamn judge?”
“Bribed, actually,” I admit, as McKinnon looks uncomfortable and pulls at his collar. “But blackmail is the backup if it’s needed.”
“By the power vested in me… by the State of New York,” McKinnon sputters, “I now pronounce you… uh… husband and wife.” He scrawls his name on the marriage license, dropping the pen in his rush to be gone, already heading for a side door.
“And I get to kiss the bride,” I say, pulling her in close with an arm around her waist.
Amelia struggles against me, rearing back to slap my face. I catch her wrist, forcing it behind her and using it to hold her still. She gives a pained gasp, her body shuddering beautifully.
“You’re mine now,” I tell her softly. “I know part of you doesn’t want this, but I also know part of you does.”
“You’re wrong,” she hisses. “None of me wants this.”
“Really?” I squeeze her wrist enough to remind her of my hold. “I know what happens when I pin you down. Shall I check if you’re wet?”
Her eyes flash. “You wouldn’t—” She cuts herself off before she says dare. “My body is not my mind.”
Confirmation that she’s aroused. As I suspected.
“Your mind, then. Your sister? Your own protection?”
“From a war you started.”
“You’ll want for nothing,” I continue doggedly. “All my money, all my resources. They’re yours to help you find the happiness you need and the protection you deserve.”
“And my freedom?”
I smile. “A never-ending supply of rope and cuffs for you to cut up as often as you wish.”
She jerks against my hold, staring at me. “Why are you smiling now?”
“Because I’m happy. I just got married.”
“How the hell can this make you happy?” she asks, incredulous, then gestures around the empty room with her free hand. “How could this make anyone happy?”
I grip the back of her neck, pulling her close enough that I can murmur right into her ear.
She’s tense, resisting me. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you.
I’m obsessed with you. You’re everything to me.
Yes, I’m happy, because I’ve found you when I never thought I’d find anyone.
I’ll do whatever it takes to fill your life with pleasure and joy. ”
“Joy?” she chokes out, blinking back tears. “If you’ll do whatever it takes, why don’t you let me go and protect me from afar?”
“Because, my Little Stray, how will you be happy without my presence, my cock, and the spanking you so richly deserve?”
She laughs, bitter and mirthless. “I was wrong, okay? I can’t go through with this.
I’ve said no, and once again, you’ve completely ignored me.
” She shakes her head, eyes mournful and liquid, anger giving way to sadness.
“How can we have a marriage when you refuse to accept any part of who I am? It’s… it’s… a farce.”
“It’s not a farce,” I say urgently, pulling her to me while in the corner of my eye Bastien walks to the door, giving us the illusion of privacy. “Earlier, you asked why I was smiling. Do you remember?”
“Because you’re a fucking psycho.”
“I was smiling because I never thought I’d find someone who could make me feel again. You, my fierce, beautiful, courageous Little Stray, you’re the reason I can smile.”
She pulls back enough to search my face, a tear running down her cheek that I want to kiss away. I hold her gaze with no reservation, letting her see whatever it is she’s looking for.
“I’m not walking into this blindly,” I continue softly, putting all my heart into my words.
“I’m not doing this because the fates say I must. I’m doing this because I can’t accept a world where you’re not mine.
If I must, I’ll put you in cuffs until I’ve found a way to prove what I say is true.
I’m going to make you happy… at my side. ”
She stares at me for dozens of beats of my racing heart. “I’m a long damn way from happy.”
“Then I have a lot of work to do.”
“Do you think you can?” she asks, like she genuinely wants me to say yes. “Do you think you’re even capable?”
“I cook a mean seafood pasta and I know a guy with one hell of an art collection.” I relax my hold on her wrist, but still keep it pinned to her back, her body pinned against mine. “And I know exactly how to make you come harder than you’ve ever come before.”
“No, you don’t,” she mutters. “You can’t beat what you did when you went down on me then fucked me.”
I grin, tugging her into me. It’s not just the playfulness of her answer, it’s that she hasn’t point-blank refused me again. A window of opportunity, however small, and I’ll take it. “Challenge accepted. It might take me a few tries, but we have the rest of our lives ahead of us.”
“Do we, Lukas?” she says, and I’m not even sure she realized she used my name. “Will you just abandon me again, cast me aside now that you own me, save when you need somewhere warm to put your dick?”
“No, I won’t,” I vow. Then I hesitate. “I do have… work commitments. I may not be there… every moment.” I wince.
“I have to ensure the Volkovs leave us alone.” I meet her eyes, trying to compel her to believe me with the force of my words alone.
“But I swear, I will do all that’s in my power to be your partner, your husband, your lover, to give you everything you need, and some of what you want. ”
She falls quiet, watching me with her brow delicately furrowed, like she’s trying to figure out an enigma.
I slip my hand around her throat, holding her lightly, lifting her chin with my thumb. “Do you accept that what I’ve told you is the truth?”
“I… do,” she says, as if the realization surprises her.
“Then I’m going to kiss my bride,” I tell her. “And then I’m going to take her back home, and we’re going to have a little chat about how badly she’s behaved.”
“What about how badly you’ve behaved?” she throws right back at me.
I chuckle, and kiss my wife.
And she opens to me.