Chapter 13 Ellowyn
Ellowyn
What have I just agreed to?
The thought plagued me our entire way back to the manor and up to Alois’ room. The trek was fraught with silence—Alois snuck heated looks at me the entire trip, which caused me to internally squirm under his gaze.
By any means necessary.
I fought down rising bile when his hand found my waist at some point. Alois’ palm was heavy and warm against my lower back as he led me up the stairs to the third floor, bypassing his personal guards as he unlocked the door.
“You’re dismissed for the evening,” he called behind his shoulder as he ushered me into his sitting room. The guards bowed slightly before leaving their positions, the door thunking closed before they were even out of sight.
Alone in his room together, I fiddled with my hands and the new ring on my finger, unsure what to do or how to even progress. We both knew what I was here for, what would inevitably transpire tonight, but I had little idea how to initiate.
If I thought my experience with intimacy as a Bond Specialist in Hestin would prepare me for this moment, I was sorely mistaken. Stroking a man’s cock or helping to lubricate a woman’s pussy to facilitate sex between two other people was a different beast entirely. It was clinical, almost.
This, though, would be anything but.
I turned from the door, my eyes bouncing from one item to the next, never truly cataloging what I was seeing as my heart pounded at the base of my throat. My palms grew slick and my breathing increased as I felt Alois move, the warmth of his body preceding his presence.
Firm hands grasped my upper arms before he buried his face in my neck.
“You smell like the lavender fields native to your homeland,” he mumbled, and I tensed at his touch.
“It’s my favorite scent—helps me stay connected to the place I came from,” I admitted. Alois hummed thoughtfully as he stroked his nose against my neck. Goosebumps erupted on my bare skin as his lips skimmed the same path as his nose, leaving wetness that felt cold in the air.
“How do you feel, Ellowyn?” Alois husked as his hands left my shoulders to caress down my arms before jumping to my hips. He squeezed hard but not painfully before rubbing slow circles across my flesh with his palms.
“Fine,” I whispered.
“Not good enough. Let’s try again, wife. How do you feel?”
I paused and took stock of both my mental and physical state—my skin felt like it was on fire, the tiny hairs on my neck standing up as Alois lavished attention on my still-clothed body.
As much as I hated my new husband and the situation I was forced into, I couldn’t help my body’s natural reaction.
My arousal was ugly and twisted, and I felt completely betrayed by my body, though I couldn’t tell Alois that.
Lie. By any means necessary. I prayed that somehow the Last Truthsayer wouldn’t catch my duplicity.
“Ready to be your wife in body as well as soul,” I rasped instead, my mouth dry as I lied.
I tensed in apprehension when Alois paused his ministrations, only relaxing when he resumed stroking my skin.
“Has anyone touched you here?” His hand trailed across my hips to rest against the apex of my thighs.
I tried to shimmy out of his hold, but he only cupped me firmly by my cunt, pulling my body flush against his.
“I . . .” I stopped, thinking about the Dreamscape.
Was it real? If it wasn’t, did it even count? I still hadn’t told anyone—aside from Jarius—about the Dreamscape, and some niggling sensation in the back of my mind told me to keep it that way.
Alois’ hands paused, the one covering my mound twitched slightly at my non-answer.
I quickly shook my head. “No. No one’s touched me,” I lied.
He seemed to like that answer as his hips thrust involuntarily into my ass and I felt the hard length of him again, his trousers and my thin silk dress the only two barriers between us.
How did I lie to him?
“Then let me be the first,” he whispered reverently as he laved kisses up and down my neck, onto my collarbone and shoulder.
I shivered both in pleasure and disgust as my heart began thumping erratically for a different reason entirely.
The hand covering my pussy flexed slightly, Alois’ fingers rubbing gently over my dress. A small moan escaped me at the motion, and my hips bucked involuntarily.
I hated my body in that moment.
“Say you want this,” Alois panted, his other hand trailing to cup my left breast. He massaged the flesh with his thick fingers, drawing my nipple to a point before teasing it through my dress with his fingertip.
By any means necessary.
I nodded against him. “Yes, yes, I want this.”
The lie was ash on my tongue.
That simple phrase was all Alois needed before he became unleashed, unhinged even. With a growl that was more animal than man, he gripped the neckline of my wedding dress and pulled, rendering the fabric straight down the middle until I was exposed from neck to pussy.
I gasped at the sudden motion and at the sudden loss of Alois at my back.
I clutched the couch beside me to steady myself as he prowled in front of me, his eyes flashing and still for once.
Alois’ gaze was trained on my bare, flushed flesh and heaving chest, and I grew warmer under his scrutiny.
A trickle of arousal soaked my underwear further and I rubbed my legs together to create friction.
“Needy, wife?” Alois growled, tracking my movements.
“Yes,” I whispered, embarrassedly, and watched as he stepped toward me, his chest nearly touching my own, before gently pushing the ruined dress down my arms so it puddled on the floor by my feet.
Naked now except for the barely there lace underclothes I wore, I shivered.
“Remove the rest,” Alois barked at me before taking a large step back, presumably so he could watch me as I stripped.
Still fully clothed, my husband watched hungrily as I shakily unclasped my bra first, letting it hang loose on my chest.
“All the way off, Ellowyn.”
I took a deep, fortifying breath before letting it drop to the floor with a quiet thump. Alois’ eyes instantly found my bare breasts, full and awaiting his touch, my dusky pink nipples pointed from arousal.
“Your underwear. Now,” he commanded from between gritted teeth.
I tried to catch his attention, to find comfort in our connected gaze, but his eyes were firmly trained on my body.
A slight hollow feeling passed through me before I pushed it aside and focused on the erection in Alois’ pants.
It was sizable, but did not appear to be unduly large.
Thank the gods for small mercies.
I found it easier to strip from my underwear, pulling the lace down to expose the small thatch of nearly white curls atop my mound before toeing off my shoes. I stood before my husband, naked as the day I was born, awaiting his next command.
“Beautiful.” He whispered a reverent prayer, and I basked in his praise.
“On the bed,” he said curtly, one hand rubbing his mouth. “On your back, knees up and legs open.”
I frowned slightly and hesitated for a moment before moving to comply with his orders.
Why is he still dressed?
Presumably, my husband had sexual kinks, but he discussed none of these with me. I didn’t mind taking orders from him, but I found it slightly demoralizing.
This is not how sex should be—I don’t feel loved or even respected. I fought rising tears as I padded quickly to the bed, my arousal drying from the chill of the air and my self-disgust.
By any means necessary.
His bedroom was just as plain and militaristic as the sitting room—a four-poster dark wood bed frame dominated the space, the mattress high and sheets white.
The pop of color was jarring, especially considering his love of black garments.
A fire crackled low in the hearth, chasing some of the cold from the air, while a door to the right stood slightly ajar, hinting at the opulent bathroom within.
The curtains were drawn over expansive windows, our only light from the fire.
It was intimate, even cozy, in a lair-like way.
“Why are you not on the bed?” Alois’ cool voice said from directly behind me and I jumped a bit with a squeak before scurrying to the bed and climbing atop, uncaring of my naked ass in the air.
I assumed the required position and stared at the ceiling while I waited for my husband. I heard the rustle of his approach and turned my head to look at him.
“I did not say you could look, wife,” he barked, and I snapped my head back to the ceiling, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.
The bed dipped slightly as Alois’ petrichor scent enveloped me once more. His hand reached out to stroke my hair and face, his ministrations slowly relaxing me again.
“I do not say these things to be rude or mean,” he admitted lowly, some of the earlier warmth back in his voice. “Due to some past . . . experiences, I need full control in bed. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Do you still wish to continue?”
I didn’t.
I nodded my head and heard a breath release in a gust. “I will never do anything that makes you uncomfortable unless you ask me to. This is as far as my orders will go. Though I will ask you not to touch me. Is that okay?”
I nodded again.
“Will you tell me about it later?” I asked and felt him tense.
“Some things are better left untold, better left buried,” he said tersely before removing himself from the bed.
I guess there’s my answer.
I heard the rustle of clothes and the thunk of boots as I imagined him stripping down.
The bed dipped again, this time near my feet.
I chanced a glance down along the naked planes of my torso to see a naked Alois sitting at my feet, his gaze trained on my exposed pussy.
In the low firelight, I could barely see the white lines of small scars.
His body was covered with them. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to their placement, no pattern, and I felt a twinge of sympathy despite the situation.
What happened to him?