19. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SEBASTIAN
Nothing in the world could have prepared me for what I saw when I stepped foot into the room.
There’s a saying in Hawthorn that even the dullest rock can become a diamond if it’s polished enough.
Victoria Pierce? She is the epitome of that saying.
Never a dull rock, but she’s truly a diamond at this moment.
Her long brown hair is pulled out of her face, the usual curtain she hides behind no longer separating us.
Instead, it’s in a neat French braid, resting upon her silk covered shoulder.
The fine, curved lines of her eyebrows are immaculate, not a single hair out of place, and there is a flush on the apples of her porcelain cheeks.
She is nervous. She is perfect.
Our eyes stay locked as I take another step into the room, wanting nothing more than to instantly cross the space between us.
The nearer I get, the sooner I can touch her.
The thought alone has my cock stirring under the thin silk of my robe.
He’s insatiable, my cock. Even after cumming all over the shower tiles a mere moment ago, he is ready to go again, but this time, there will be no satisfying him until he is inside her pretty little cunt.
“Isn’t it funny how you are on time now?” I start, wanting to slice through the heavy tension seeping through the room. It’s to be expected; this isn’t something that’s happened in the kingdom before… as far as anyone’s aware of.
Victoria parts her lips and I swear I see the slightest tick of her jaw. That’s it, get mad for me.
I want her screaming by the end of the evening.
She doesn’t say anything; she keeps herself still, sitting with her legs crossed elegantly on the bed. I’m sure someone had to help her do that, considering she is the least elegant woman I’ve ever met.
“I said,” my fingers grip her chin, “isn’t it funny how you are—”
The door bursts open before I finish my sentence, my grip not releasing Victoria as I slowly turn to my lovely wife. Fucking perfect.
Mary and I got into a rather heated discussion over certain events that would take place tonight.
She insisted on being in the fucking room while these events occurred.
Naturally, in my not-fucked state of mind, I told her no.
It’s bad enough there is an audience every time I whip my dick out; I don’t need Mary to be in on it while I whip it out with someone other than her.
This is a recipe for disaster, and I really, really don’t want to deal with her crying again.
“Mary.” To my surprise, my voice stays level and controlled, remaining even and steady despite the frustration simmering beneath the surface. My grip on Victoria’s chin releases, my eyes narrowing in on the blonde as she storms into the room with a triumphant look on her face.
I swear to Christ; Mary is a mental case.
“Mary,” I reiterate. She ignores me.
Her calm demeanor is unravelling. My wife ushers one of the maids in the room to pull the velvet chair up to the bed. Absolutely fucking not.
“Mary!”
Her bright eyes lift to meet mine. If I didn’t know her, I would mistake the way she bats her long lashes as naivety. However, I do know her. There is malice in her eyes, burning a blue bright enough to set a fucking kingdom on fire.
“Sebastian.” Her lips curl into a smile, the one she shows when she gets her way. “Your father has allowed me to sit in. Since you are conceiving my baby, he thought I should be part of the process.”
Mary crosses one leg over her knee, her head tilting - ‘checkmate.’ She doesn’t even know how to play chess. Yet, she just won, all because she got the King.
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I reign in the beastly urge to kill my wife on the bed, then fuck Victoria in the blood just for the sake of it.
Fuck, Victoria. My eyes snap open to look at the brunette, still staring at me with those big brown eyes.
Neither of us speak. If we do, nothing will change the outcome.
Mary is going to do what she wants Now that she has my father on her side, I have little room to argue.
I knew better. I know better.
“Well? Let’s go.” Mary takes a cup of tea from her handmaid, a tight smile playing on her lips.
The bed creaks under my knee as I slowly shift onto the mattress, unease churning in my gut.
Victoria is frozen, her eyes locked on every move as if she’s trying to predict the next.
Hell, even I don’t know what my next move is.
Having to fuck Mary with an audience was always awkward, but this is worse.
So much worse.
“You have a job to do, Sebastian. Get in, get out.”
“Mary, enough.” I turn and settle on the edge of the bed, putting my back to Victoria so I can face my wife.
“I am not going to continue to do this with you. If you are going to be nothing but a pain in everyone’s ass and act like a petulant toddler, you can find something else to do.
You will not continue to create a fucking scene for the hell of it. ”
Turning my shoulders, I steal a glance at Victoria. She sits wordlessly, a stark contrast to her usual self. She trembles softly, the movement impossible to miss beneath the quivering silk of her robe. I extend my hand, and she fucking flinches.
“Come,” I mutter, the word soft. At least, it comes out that way in my head. For all I know, it could be rough, hoarse.
The moment Victoria places her hand in mine; I feel the shaking.
I weave my fingers through hers until the tremors begin to ease.
Our eyes meet and I can’t breathe. She’s beautiful.
Even before getting all dolled up, she was stunning.
Yet now, a fragile vulnerability flickers beneath the dark swirls of her irises, and it hits me harder than any beauty ever could.
I swallow, releasing her hand. The bed creaks again as I rise from the mattress, standing at its edge and looking down at the brunette… still sitting, still staring. My hand shoots out, gripping her leg, crossed so elegantly, and I tug.
A gasp escapes Victoria’s lungs, and her body moves effortlessly in tune with my own. The navy satin bunches up, exposing her thighs.
She’s beautiful, unblemished. My fingers stroke her ankle, the touch gentle and exploratory. Her lips part, pupils blown to swallow the brown, and the sight has my cock pressing firmly against my own robe.
“Sebastian, what are you—”
“For every word that comes out of your mouth from here on, Mary, is another minute I spend engorging on her cunt.”
My lips purse, eyes focusing back on the girl before me.
“Lay down,” She hesitates at my encouragement — for only a moment — before she lets herself sink fully against the mattress.
The braid that neatly ties her hair together rests over her shoulder, and I make a mental note to tell Georgina that I want her hair down from now on.
A simple request, but one absolutely necessary for my own selfish pleasure.
I want her as the Little Dove I know, not the doll that the kingdom is trying to transform her into.