Chapter 3 #2
Each interaction we had increased the tension.
His position shifted, and I naturally withdrew until I barely knew the man.
He wasn’t my best friend, and he was no longer a shield.
He stood to benefit from the Genesis Protocol, and he wanted everything it promised him, and then we were squarely opposed.
How much of this he knew I couldn’t be sure, but I suspected he knew I was no longer thrilled with our arrangement, and over the years I noticed as he had dropped hints of his expectations for our futures, watching carefully for my reactions.
“Come here.” He lifted his hand, reaching for me.
I moved towards him gingerly, taking his hand, and he used my grip to pull me towards him, placing me squarely between his parted legs.
Placing one arm behind him on the desk, he leaned back, his other hand coming to rest on my waist.
“You look beautiful, Iz.”
His smile was devastating, but the use of my nickname felt hollow from his lips. Still, I smiled softly.
“Thanks, it’s a mum special, so I am naturally being squeezed to death under all the silk.”
He ran his hand over my hip as I stood frozen. I didn’t expect him to become inappropriate just one door away from the party, but his hand flexed against me, feeling me in a way that didn’t feel quite right.
Sitting straight, he brought his other hand upward. His fingers ghosting under my chin.
Even resting as he was against the desk, he was tall enough that we were now eye height.
He held my face in place, his gaze penetrating me.
“Mother was right, I can’t wait to marry you.”
Was that a good thing? I wasn’t sure, so I remained silent.
Not waiting any longer for a response, he leaned in, his lips sliding against mine.
I stood still as he peppered soft kisses over my mouth, his fingers sliding along my jaw and tightening the back of my neck as he pulled me closer, his mouth moving more urgently.
Snapping from a daze, I began to tentatively kiss him back, and instead of slowing, his kiss turned feverish. A gravelly groan leaving him as he forced his tongue into my mouth and brushed it gently along mine.
There had been no discussion of remaining untouched until our marriage.
I was thirty years old, and despite recent consideration, I was not a nun.
Unfortunately, however, comments had been made over the years that implied he believed I was innocent, and I realised he may be taking my tentative response as confirmation.
He caressed my cheek, my guts churning at the thought that I would be able to use his belief in my inexperience to justify any lack of enthusiasm.
“I can’t wait to make you mine.” His murmur was against my lips.
His hand slid around my back, yanking me against his body so the press of his erection met my body.
“We can’t wait long, Iz, but I want to make the most of you before you give me children.”
My body locked up, the need to remove myself urgently calling for my attention.
“We, uh. We haven’t talked about kids too much yet, Teddy.”
“Hmm?”
His hands were now palming my hips with increased force.
“Maybe we could talk about our future, you know? Maybe we could…” I took a deep breath. “Maybe we could have our kids quite quickly, maybe tick the box, you know?”
He looked up, his brows arching.
“And then we can live our lives without the pressure of pregnancy and stuff, like we used to talk about?”
He watched me, searching my face before flicking down to my lips again, he drew his own between his teeth, chewing on his plump bottom lip.
“I can go back to work? It’s just, it’s going to be an adjustment, and I want to, get excited. For our life.” I looked up at him, not sure I’d done a good job of explaining myself, but hopeful.
His eyes were hooded, pupils wide, his hands now resting on my ass, kneading.
“I don’t think so, Iz,” he muttered.
“Um, don’t think so, to which bit?”
His hands continued massaging my hips, hands slipping towards my thighs.
“All of it.”
He lowered his face, resting his head against the side of my throat and inhaling my perfume before resuming his kisses along my throat. My skin didn’t tingle or heat under his efforts.
I tried to step back, but his hold tightened, holding me in place. His teeth nipped the soft skin at my neck and I jumped.
“The kids, or the job, which bit, Theodore?” My tone was sharp, as a form of panic began to build, surging through me.
“Well.” He held me still as he lifted his head up enough to look into my eyes, keeping me close, his breath washed over my lips when he spoke, peppermint and whisky.
“The children box will be ticked, as you say, when you can either no longer have any, or when I think we have enough.” His palm found my stomach. “By my calculations, and we can have this verified, you have at least twenty fertile years.”
He suddenly softened at the horror I knew showed on my face.
“Iz, don’t worry I don’t want twenty kids, but perhaps we start with five.”
“Five?” The word was half shriek, half gasp.
“Well, Trevor has four.”
I frowned, what did his brother have to do with this?
“So, five is a good start.”
“You’re kidding?”
His face became a mask, impassive and cold.
“I’m not having five kids, Teddy, the requirement is two. I can have two children soon, you can still be a young dad, and I can raise them while we still have lots of energy. Then we can focus on our future.”
“Oh? And what future did you have in mind?” His tone had cooled, his hands firmly gripping me, but they had stilled in their exploration.
“I support you, naturally, and raise the children.”
He nodded.
“And I want to work, Teddy. I have my education, I can work in education myself, it’s what I always said I wanted, to work.”
Not technically a lie, I reassured myself, but also not entirely true. My education had served the purpose of learning the system, understanding the opportunities that existed within it, or now lack thereof.
“Absolutely not.” He shut me down. “You won’t be working.”
“I won’t be working?” The question came out tentative, confused.
“Isabelle.” He bristled. “I have waited fifteen years for you. We will wed, I will enjoy you.” He emphasised his words by squeezing my body.
“And we will have children. Several children, over several years. I will not lose this body, my wife, to pregnancy for back-to-back years. Although I am sure you being pregnant will add another facet to the appeal.”
“My appeal.” I was a parrot.
“Correct. I have no intention of impregnating you for at least a year. That will allow us a decent honeymoon period.”
I was horrified, and he misunderstood why.
“Don’t worry, Iz. I’ll sort the doctors, help them to understand, you want my babies, but first I want your body.”
My stomach turned. I was going to throw up on him.
The pretty lies I told myself about my best-case future were being torn away, and it was agonising.
I stumbled back, yanking free of his grasp.
Teddy’s eyes immediately darkened, and it was no longer desire looking out at me.
“Isabelle.” He reached out, gripping my arm, his fingers digging in painfully as he pulled me back into his hold. “Are we going to have an issue here?”
I swallowed. Danger rippled from him, his demeanour completely shut down.
I shook my head. “No, of course. Sorry, Teddy.”
I forced my body to relax in his hold, allowing him to wrap me in his arms. He kissed me gently, his mouth now completely contrasting to the way he gripped my arms seconds before.
My mind spun, and in lieu of any decent argument, I threaded my hands around his neck, softly withdrawing from him.
Steeling myself, praying my voice held docility, appeasing him. “I think we need to get back.”
He groaned.
“But I wanted more of you.”
His hands began to rove back over my body, finding the slit in the length of the skirt of my dress and snaking inside. I held myself still as his fingers traced along my thigh, curving upwards to toy with the edge of my lace underwear.
“Next week?” I placated, the words ash on my tongue.
Sighing he stilled, finally withdrawing his hands. I took a shaky breath and put on a smile, hoping he’d hear the excitement in my voice, not the crushing weight of my existential dread.
Standing, he rearranged his noticeable erection.
“Look what you do to me.” I blanched as Teddy cupped my cheek. Biting his lip, he murmured, “So innocent.”
Looking me over he straightened my dress where he had ruffled it, eyes sparking with pride before he ran his thumbs around my mouth, tidying my lipstick.
Yanking me close one final time he kissed my head and muttered, “My Isabelle.”