17. CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
SEBASTIAN
Iam going to strangle her.
Preferably with my bare fucking hands. Her, my Little Dove. Her, the object of my obsession. Her, my new personal fucking handmaid.
Did I mention I am going to strangle her?
I’d fucking enjoy every second of it, too, watching those tears run down her pretty porcelain cheeks as I squeeze her throat.
Having her beg me through choked breaths to stop.
I don’t even know if I could stop, considering myself control flew right out the fucking window.
Does Victoria have any idea what she signed herself up for? What she accepted? When the question was asked, she was in another world. Her eyes were vacant, then she had the audacity to lift her chin like she was proud of accepting an offer she could never take back.
What the fuck.
She’s deranged. Fucking mental. A goddamn brat.
“Mary, shut the fuck up!” I roar, the sound bellowing from my chest where my heart thuds harshly against my rib cage.
My wife hasn’t stopped crying, and Victoria accepting my father’s proposal only added fuel to the fire, or better yet it damn well broke through the damn.
I can’t think when she is screaming like this, begging for my father to change his mind.
But this was always the plan. How did I not see it before?
They hired a poor girl, someone no one would ever miss from the invisible world she lived in the village.
Once she provided an heir, she would be tossed to the side, and who would be the wiser? No one, that’s who.
I know my father to be cruel, but this is a whole new level of abusing his power. I’d admire it if I weren’t so fucking pissed off.
“Please! Your Majesty, please!” Mary falls to her knees, pathetically if I may add, her hands gripping at the fabric over my father’s leg.
I’ve had enough of her and the bullshit continuously being pulled.
However, my father smirks in amusement at her theatrics, some sick pleasure from seeing a woman on their knees before him.
Begging. Pleading. Submitting.
Fucking Christ.
“Get her the fuck out of here, now,” I demand, my gaze narrowing at Mary’s handmaid, still trying to make sense of what happened. No shit, we all are fucking confused.
I motion for the guards to take over before pinching the bridge of my nose between my index and thumb.
Counting down from ten, I let out a long breath until the ringing in my ears quiets…
only to be replaced by the incessant whooshing of my blood.
If there wasn’t so much at stake right now, I’d wish for cardiac arrest. Take me from this fucking misery.
With a soft thud of the oversized office door closing, I am left with only my parents. There is no mistaking my displeasure of the acceptance from the foolish girl. I should have known better, considering she runs around doing things for me.
Victoria is gullible, naive in so many ways. Another trait my parents must have seen before hiring her.
“You knew this whole time. This was your plan, was it not?” I snarl.
My father pours smooth amber liquid into a glass, tongs picking up a single ice cube to place in the center.
I’ve never wanted a drink more than I do right now.
He must know because he continues to prepare a second glass, adding enough liquor to make your head spin before holding it out to me. I take it without hesitation.
“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, Sebastian.” My father’s voice is smooth, almost as smooth as the liquor slides traitorously down my throat.
He’s right, and I know it. I figured it out the moment it was asked.
The hiring process of my new handmaid was on their terms. Previously, Georgina finalized them, but I was so aggravated with the last six, I didn’t even question when my mother and father had the final say this round.
Victoria was the first chosen from the village.
Hell, I’ve never even been in the village of Hawthorn.
There isn’t much to it beyond orphanages and poverty.
“So then, tell me, father,” my lips purse, “what are your plans for her after she produces? I assume you’ve already had her cleared for fertility, something you failed to do when you brought that dud in for me to marry.”
His jaw tenses and the room falls silent as he finishes off the bourbon in his glass. The sound of ice clinking against the sides of the cup fills the room. My mother has yet to speak or even move. It’s as if she’s frozen. Good. I hope the guilt of this eats her the fuck alive.
My father’s long fingers tap against the top of the oak desk, and I know he is weighing his options. Either he tells me the truth or tells me to leave. I know which he will pick.
Even as the future king of this kingdom, I, too, am left in the dark.
As soon as he parts his lips I raise my palm, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, I’m leaving.”
I don’t bother looking back.
Heat pelts against my skin, in a failed attempt to release the tension from every muscle in my body. I can’t help but wonder what will come in the next two hours. Is Victoria finally aware of what she agreed to?
She must be, considering I saw Georgina and a few other housemaids bring different a few things into a spare room.
The only positive from this is no longer living in the help quarters.
In my father’s eyes, Victoria Pierce is special.
She is going to produce the heir to the family… no one will be any wiser.
Except for me.
I will always know my children didn’t come from my wife, but rather from the handmaid with an irrevocable pull over me. Wonderful. Absolutely fucking wonderful.
The longer I stand under the shower head, the more my mind wanders.
I want to know what is going through that small little brain of Victoria’s.
I need to understand why she accepted any of this, without clearly knowing what she was getting herself into.
Why would she say ‘yes?’ Did she not realize she was being used for a good that would get her killed?
If she’s lucky, she will end up having a girl first and buy herself some time.
Fuck.
My head tips back, and I blink away the stray water droplets on my lashes so I can clearly see the ceiling of the shower. Victoria is getting ready, too. They probably have her soaking in a large tub, one with bubbles that conceal her from the rest of the room.
Will she be stripped bare, her pussy on full display? Or will there be neatly shaven curls the same color of her hair dusting above her folds, hiding the prize underneath to tease me?
I think back to when I rubbed my sensitive tip against the back of her hand. How her lips parted in silent awe, the darkness in her muddy colored eyes turned black, the flush on her cheeks, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
Was she as affected at that moment as me? Were her panties soaked with want for my touch? Caress? Own?
With a grunt, my fingers stroke in soft motions, my cock swelling and pulsing with each flick of my wrist. I know my body well, if I don’t release now, I will come undone as soon as I stick my cock into her wet heat.
Thoughts of her doing the same thing as I am, spur on my pace.
I slam my free palm against the tile to keep myself from falling over as I work my other hand roughly over my cock.
Images of her dainty fingers pleasing herself beneath the warmth of the bath water flood my mind. Her cheeks flush in that pretty mauve as she pants, begging for more.
More, fucking more.
My hips thrust, matching my harsh pumps, and I swear my knees are going to give out.
I’m close, so fucking close. I can almost hear her moans ringing in my ears, ringing in a beautiful fucking melody that I want to play over, and over.
Thoughts of why this is so fucked up fade as I fuck my fist. Releasing an animalistic growl, my cock paints the wall of the shower in cum.
No amount of air can satisfy the ache in my lungs as I take in my seed dripping down the tile.
She agreed to this. If it’s what Victoria wants, I'm going to absolutely ruin her.