Chapter Three
Isobel
A giant rock of tension followed us back home. It was stifling, suffocating, and felt like it was breathing down my neck as we approached what would be my new house.
My hell.
By the time he pulled over in the garage, I was ready to bolt out of the car. I wanted to change out of my wedding dress into something softer. I wanted to be away from him.
I could hear his footsteps falling in sync behind me as I headed straight for the room. I pushed the door open, but I didn’t bolt it because I knew he was right behind me.
I glanced around the room, twisting and pulling at my wedding ring. “You never showed me my room.”
“That’s because you don’t have one,” he deadpanned.
I spun around to meet his heated gaze. He slowly undid his cuff links like he had all the time in the world, his eyes never leaving mine.
“What do you mean?” My voice was hard. There was no way in hell I was sleeping in the same room with this man. I would lose my mind.
“This is our matrimonial bedroom.” He gestured around. “You’ll sleep here with me on that bed. It’s best if you get used to it. I’m not doing any of that separate room bullshit with you.”
My heart sank.
“You-you never mentioned that.” My voice trembled.
“You didn’t ask.” He stalked forward.
“Well, I’m asking now.” I stood my ground. “I want my own room. I deserve my privacy.”
Damien smirked, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. It only made his features more prominent and attractive. It was cold and mocking.
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“You are my wife. There’s nothing like privacy in this marriage.” He spat out the words like they burned his tongue.
“I’m not comfortable being in the same space as you!” I defended myself.
He inched forward, his steps precise and calculated as though he’d pounce on me like a predator if I dared to flinch. His approaching imposing presence made me move backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed, and I dropped onto it like a sack of bones.
I gasped.
“Why?” He crouched before me. Unabashedly, he reached for the hem of my dress, pushing it up so delicately that his fingers danced across my skin and made me moan. “Are you scared of me?”
My heart pounded so hard against my chest at the thought of what he was about to do to me.
“I-I thought you were going to wait for a while, be patient with me...” I stuttered.
I wasn’t a fool. I knew where the whole thing was heading. It terrified me and excited me at the same time.
“It’s our wedding night, Red.” His fingers skimmed my skin. “We are consummating it. Haven’t I made myself clear that I’m not a patient man?”
“But I’m not ready.”
“Is that so?” He tilted his head to the side.
“I saw how your breath hitched earlier every time our eyes met. Your chest heaved when I touched you. And the kiss? You responded to it like a greedy little slut. During the whole ceremony, you have been thinking about your husband’s cock buried inside your cunt, haven’t you, Isobel? ”
“Stop it.” Red exploded all over my neck as I bit down on my lips to prevent myself from letting out a sound.
His eyes darkened. “Stop what? Stop talking dirty to you, or stop telling the truth? The answer to both is no.” He rose to his feet.
“You want me, and you hate it,” he seethed. “Get up.” His hardened gaze locked on me, propelling me to my feet.
He tugged me into him harshly, and I crashed into his chest. His scent washed over me, head turning and animalistic. Damien’s fingers barely grazed the skin of my face, and I found myself parting my lips softly.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
I swallowed, obliging.
“It’s our wedding night, but I’m not like most men. I will fuck you hard, and I won’t be nice about it, Red.”
His fingers softly met the buttons that held the dress together at the back, undoing them with a swiftness that made my heart pound really hard.
The hair on my skin stood so erect. My lungs constricted, making it hard to breathe through my nose.
I breathed in through my mouth, basking in his imposing presence behind me.
I could feel him. All of his warmth. All of his darkness. All of his demons.
A gust of air kissed my skin when he undid the final button.
I swallowed hard.
He pushed the sleeves of the dress down my body, and my tits bounced free, the buds hard and aching, and the flesh heavy.
I wanted to bring my hands to my chest when I realized I was standing in nothing but my white lace thong.
Left to Maria, I wouldn’t have been wearing anything. She claimed it’d drive him crazy if he found out I was naked beneath the dress. The trick worked better than most lingerie, according to her. But I stubbornly managed to shrug on the underwear.
“Mine. My wife. All mine,” he murmured.
I sucked in a breath because of how possessive he sounded. It was so hot.
“Get on the bed and spread your legs.” He undid my hair from its bun, and the fiery lushness cascaded down my shoulders in a soft bounce.
My cheeks burned so hard as I got into bed, reluctant to part my legs. My tits were in his face. My face appeared rosier than ever. My breath wouldn’t stop hitching as a result. I didn’t want him to see how soaked I was because I could feel it coating my thighs.
“Spread your legs,” he repeated firmly this time.
My throat thickened as I pulled my legs apart.
His dark eyes devoured my almost naked frame on the bed. The hunger I saw in them was crippling. He looked at me like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on me and fuck me until I passed out.
I bit my lips, my eyes following his movements as he unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off. That menacing tattoo unraveled before me again. I ached to get my hands on it and trace circles around it.
I almost convulsed when he got on the mattress with me, grabbing me by the leg and tugging me into him. My tits bounced with the movement.
“Fuck, those are gorgeous,” he groaned, gazing at the thick pink buds that tipped my perky full tits.
His lips crushed mine, hard, merciless, making me moan.
I pushed myself into him, desperate for some friction.
He growled when my clothed pussy brushed against his massive erection.
Then his fingers found my throat, squeezing so hard until I couldn’t breathe, and I just allowed myself to drown in his torturous kisses.
My back hit the mattress, and he worked his lips down my body, tugging at my nipples and leaving a trail of heat in his path.
I arched, wanting to meet his mouth everywhere he touched. His fingers found the hem of my thong, and he dragged it down, discarding it somewhere I couldn’t care less about.
“Damien, oh—fuck!”
I jerked as he cupped my pussy, pinching my clit.
“You are soaking wet, Red,” he murmured thickly.
“Please.”
His fingers glided up and down my messy folds. He was torturously patient, dangling what I wanted right before me but never giving it to me. I could feel my arousal creaming the sheets, messing everywhere up.
“Spread those legs wider, or you won’t be getting anything,” he threatened.
As I obliged, Damien knelt between my legs like he was about to worship at my altar. His eyes were dark and hungry. His hair was a tousled mess atop his head, and the dim lights in the room hit his tattoo from all angles.
He looked like a god.
My legs were hooked around his neck, and he dove in without hesitation, licking my folds and taunting my clit with his lips.
“Argh...” I whimpered.
His fingers crossed over to my hip, gliding over it like he wanted to memorize every detail. He locked me in place and ruined me with his tongue, darting all around my dripping pussy until I strangled him with my thighs.
I tossed my head backward, my toes curling tightly.
“Please—please, oh, God. That feels so good,” I moaned hard as he thrusted his tongue into me.
The way his tongue lapped at my pussy was nothing short of ruthless. He devoured me as unfeelingly as he looked. My moans hiked higher, echoing through the four walls of the vast room. I tried to keep it down, worried that the maids might hear us. But he wouldn’t let me.
Damien loved me screaming and writhing beneath him. He got off on it. His growls thickened in intensity every time a hoarse cry left my lips.
My knees were shaking. My legs turned to jelly. When I couldn’t get enough, I arched off the bed, thrusting my pussy in his face, wanting more of what he had to offer.
“Damien!”
“Fuck, I love it when you say my name.”
His long, veiny hand reached up, tugging at my buds before he wrapped his fingers around my neck, choking me and pinning me to the mattress.
“There ... oh, there...” My voice came out so thin and strangled because of the pressure he added to my throat.
His mouth was ruining me. He rendered me helpless, and I loved it. When I thought I couldn’t get wetter, every time he ate me out, I felt myself drip for him even more.
“Please... I-I can’t-I need to come.” I choked on a soft sob.
Damien didn’t listen. He feasted on me like he had been starved of me for so long. My abdomen knotted so tightly, my vision dulled. My orgasm ripped through me like an electrocuting force, stiffening me to a spot until all I could do was scream my lungs out as I came all over his tongue.
I whimpered, trembling as he lapped up all my juices.
Damien’s head peeked up. My cheeks went up in flames as my eyes landed on the creamy substance smearing the sides of his mouth.
“You taste like mine,” he said huskily.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” I bit my lips.
“So eager,” he undid his fly and zipper, “but, yes, I’m going to fuck you, Red, and you are going to like it very much, so much that you are going to scream for me.” He had gotten rid of his pants now.
He was naked like me. The tip of his thick, veiny cock was dripping with pre-cum, making my mouth water. It wasn’t the veins around his cock that made my heart pound. It was the thickness of his cock. My brows furrowed a little because I was worried about how he was going to fit.