Chapter 2 #2
I stood there, frozen, my body betraying me with every shiver of response.
The room was silent except for the sound of his breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as my dress loosened around me.
My mind, however, was a storm, swirling with thoughts of betrayal and the life I could have had.
This wasn’t how I imagined my wedding night, and the weight of my decision pressed down on me like the heavy fabric of my gown.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” Colson whispered, his voice thick with desire as his lips traced the curve of my shoulder.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sensation of his touch, the smell of his cologne. The bed loomed in front of me, but all I could think about was how I would endure this night, how I would survive the years ahead, and how I would get my revenge on the family that had destroyed mine.
Colson’s hands moved with deliberate precision as he finished undressing me, his fingers skimming over my skin with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down my spine.
My dress fell to the floor in a pool of silk, leaving me standing there in nothing but a white lace thong.
The cold air kissed my bare skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body as he stood so close, I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.
I kept my eyes down, focusing on the intricate pattern of the rug beneath my feet, trying to block out the reality of what was about to happen.
My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum.
I didn’t know what to expect—whether he would be gentle or whether he would tear me apart, claiming me as his in the most primal way.
The uncertainty gnawed at my insides, turning my fear into something almost tangible.
He stepped back, and I finally looked up, watching as Colson began to undress.
His movements were slow, methodical, as if he were savoring the anticipation.
He slipped off his jacket and tossed it aside, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt next.
My breath hitched as more of his skin was revealed, every inch of him a reminder of the power he held over me.
The shirt joined the jacket on the floor, leaving his chest bare, muscles rippling beneath the smooth skin. He was built like a man who was used to getting what he wanted—strong, imposing, every line of his body a testament to the control he wielded.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he kicked off his shoes, followed by his socks.
His hands went to his belt, and the metallic clink of the buckle sent another wave of anxiety crashing over me.
I had seen him like this before—undressed, vulnerable—but it had never felt this intense, this final.
The belt came off, and he unzipped his trousers, letting them slide down his legs before stepping out of them.
Now he stood before me in nothing but his boxers, the thin fabric doing little to hide his arousal.
My mouth went dry as he reached for the waistband, pulling them down and freeing himself completely.
I couldn’t help but stare, my mind racing with the reality of what was about to happen.
This was it—there was no turning back now.
He moved toward me, closing the distance between us in a few short steps.
His hands cupped my face, tilting my head up so I had no choice but to meet his gaze.
His eyes, dark and intense, bored into mine, searching for something.
Fear? Desire? Submission? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through my body. “To finally make you mine in every way.”
I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice, but the words caught in my throat.
What could I say? That I was terrified? That I didn’t want this?
That I was dreading the pain, both physical and emotional, that was bound to come?
But I said nothing, knowing that any protest would be useless. I was his now—his wife, his possession.
He didn’t wait for a response. His lips crashed down on mine, his kiss demanding and forceful, leaving no room for hesitation.
I responded automatically, my body betraying me as I kissed him back, trying to match his intensity even though every part of me wanted to pull away.
His hands roamed over my body, exploring, claiming, as if he were memorizing every curve, every dip of my flesh.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathless.
He scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed, laying me down on the cool sheets.
I watched, wide-eyed, as he joined me, his weight sinking into the mattress beside me.
He hovered over me, his gaze raking over my body, making me feel exposed in a way I never had before.
His hand trailed down my side, stopping at the waistband of my thong. With a swift, practiced motion, he tugged it off, leaving me completely bare beneath him. My breath caught in my throat as he positioned himself between my legs, his touch gentle but insistent as my core flooded, making me wet.
“Relax,” he whispered, his voice softening for the first time. “I’ll be gentle.”
But could I trust him? My mind screamed at me to run, to push him away, to do anything but let this happen. But my body, traitorous and weak, wouldn’t obey. I lay there, frozen, as he lined himself up, his eyes locking onto mine as he began to push inside.
Pain shot through me, sharp and searing, and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my weakness.
Colson moved slowly, giving me time to adjust, but the pain was still there, a constant reminder of what this marriage really was—a transaction, a merging of families, a means to an end. There was no love here, no tenderness, just the cold reality of our situation.
He began to move, his pace steady and controlled, his hands gripping my hips as he thrust into me. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on my breathing, trying to block out the sensation, the humiliation. This was my life now, my reality. And there was no escape.