Bride Read online

  Maybe I was broken.

  I closed my eyes and ran my head under the warm rain of the shower, washing away the shampoo. I soaped up the loofah again and started scrubbing all over my body, trying to wash away the needy arousal beneath my skin and failing entirely. If anything, it only grew stronger and harder to fight. In an effort to calm myself, I picked up the razor set out for me and very carefully set out shaving my legs, pussy, and underarms. Once I finished, I felt more settled and focused and steady enough to stand on my own two feet.

  I moved on and started conditioning my hair one section at a time. When I was through, I picked up a small bottle of coconut oil sugar scrub and smoothed it over my skin. I spent several minutes ensuring that my skin was soft and supple, paying attention to the few places that were prone to dryness.

  I was stalling. I knew it. He probably knew it too.

  I rinsed off, turning down the heat of the water just enough to make me gasp and shiver. When I was fully clean, I finally turned off the shower and stepped out, reaching for a towel off the nearby rack. It was warm, as if it had just come out of the dryer and I hummed happily as I dried off and wrapped it around my body.

  I padded over to the counter, finding a brush and several other toiletries laid out for me. I picked up the heavy wooden hairbrush and slowly worked out all the tangles from the shower. Once I was convinced that I’d gotten every one, I put it back down and sighed.

  I was going to have to leave the bathroom at some point.

  I lifted my head and stared into the mirror, trying to see what he saw in me. I’d never considered myself traditionally pretty. My eyes were probably my best feature. They were blue, not a lighter blue like the sky, but a darker blue like that of a rich sapphire. My lips were full, and my nose wasn’t too big. There were so many beautiful models that he could have chosen that would be so utterly thankful to preen on his arm, but he’d turned away from them all in his volley to marry me and I couldn’t figure out why.

  I brushed my hair a little more, just staring at myself in the mirror as I tried to figure out what he saw in me and finding nothing of merit.

  Sure, I was smart, but a man like Grayson Asher didn’t marry a woman for her brain. He married a woman for her looks and that certainly wasn’t me. I forced myself to turn away from the mirror and leave the room.

  I walked into the closet, hearing the muted sound of his voice just a little bit further off. I crept forward, seeing him sitting on the bed with his back to me.

  He was fully dressed already, but not in a suit like before. He was wearing a tuxedo and a really nice one at that. The material was black, but the light caught it in a way to make it shine as though it was made of silk. I wanted to reach out and touch it, knowing that it would probably feel like velvet against my skin.

  He must have heard me because he stood up and turned to face me. His expression was calm and thoughtful, and I took a small step back before I could stop myself.

  “Did you enjoy your shower?” he asked. Immediately, I was reminded of a lion about to pounce on his prey, and I stopped myself from fleeing knowing that there wasn’t a way out behind me.

  “I did,” I whispered. He prowled toward me, and my unease grew, but then he stopped several feet away from me and lazily drew his gaze up and down my body. I shivered and lifted my chin proudly. “I see you’re already dressed.”

  “You took quite a long shower,” he answered, cocking his head to the side as he leaned against the bed.

  “I did,” I replied curtly. I stood tall, pressing my legs together and trying to ignore the ever-persistent twinge between my thighs. I just wished it would stop already.

  He stared at me for several seconds longer and I fought against the rising tide of self-consciousness that poured over me unbidden.

  “Remove the towel,” he commanded and all I wanted to do was refuse him. What other choice did I have though? He’d already shown that he was willing do to whatever it took to force my obedience. I gripped my towel more tightly for a moment before I sighed and released it.

  I would obey him. For now. But I didn’t have to like it.

  I threw the wet towel right in his face. I was disappointed to see that he didn’t look surprised or shocked in any way. He moved so quickly that he caught it before it smacked him in the face, and I snarled as he coolly appraised me. Slowly, he folded the towel and placed it neatly aside, all while my heart pounded wildly in my chest.

  My nerves spiked when he took several steps in my direction and I couldn’t move fast enough to escape his reach. He grabbed me firmly around the back of my neck and pulled me toward him, capturing my lips with his in a kiss so deep that I forgot to breathe.

  He possessed my body with that kiss, and I couldn’t help myself as I pressed back against him. His lips were so perfect that I found myself gasping for air and kissing him back just as hard. My heart pounded in my chest and his fingers squeezed the back of my neck a bit tighter, and just when I thought he couldn’t kiss me any more deeply, he did.

  I moaned softly and he swallowed my sounds. He tilted me backwards onto the bed and I was too distracted by the feeling of his lips on mine to put up much of a fight. When he finally pulled away, his eyes caught mine and I stared up into them as he released the back of my neck. Gently, he turned my head to the side and kissed my cheek, before he trailed his lips down my throat and along my collarbone to my breasts. I arched into his kisses even though I was reluctant to, but he was being so gentle.

  His tongue dragged along the hard peak of my nipple, and I cried out softly with pleasure. He touched me with expert hands and my body responded in kind, first with reluctance and followed by brutal force.

  His hand slid between my legs, and I knew what he’d find. I was just as wet as he’d left me before. He captured my clit between two fingers and dragged them back and forth. I mewled softly, unable to stop myself from responding to the sure and steady torture.

  The word ‘please’ was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want him to know how much I wanted him.

  But. Fuck.

  His fingers were so incredibly good. My reluctance all but dissipated as his mouth opened and gently surrounded my nipple, kissing gently at first before he started getting just a little bit rougher. I whimpered, unsure.

  He suckled my nipple hard, and I tried to pull away, getting the sudden sense that I’d been a willing participant in my own capture. His body surrounded mine, holding me down on the bed and I peered down in fear as his lips pulled back and his teeth captured my nipple next.

  “Wait. Don’t!” I shrieked.

  That didn’t stop him. He bit down on my nipple, and I yelped as a fierce stinging pain radiated outward. If I pulled away just the slightest bit, his bite hurt more. My entire breast throbbed hot in his mouth, and I tried to remain still, but it was difficult. When he pulled away, I breathed a sigh of relief only to squeak with fear when his lips approached my other breast.

  I struggled beneath him, but that wasn’t going to stop him. If anything, it only fueled him to move faster, to bite harder and by the time he bit down on my left nipple, I was already crying out in anticipation of the burning pain that came with it.

  His fingers never stopped dragging back and forth across my clit.

  He released me and drew back far enough to stare into my eyes. I trembled as my nipples throbbed, sore and freshly punished by his mouth. He could bring such gentle pleasure with those lips, but there was a roughness there too.

  I would never know which one I was going to get and that both terrified and aroused me more than I cared to admit. To myself. To him. To anyone.

  “There will be plenty of time for you to learn what happens when you push me, little girl. You needn’t worry about that. For now, however, you have a wedding to dress for, so the lessons are going to have to wait until tonight. Keep that in mind when you’re getting ready for me, my feisty bride,” he murmured, and I shuddered with anxious desire.
r />   He released my clit and I hated that he did because even with all his roughness, I still wanted to come so very badly. My entire body pulsed with arousal in tune with the constant beat of my heart.

  “Know that I’m looking forward to fully putting you in your place tonight, my sweet bride. I’m going to make you scream for me. You might even like it,” he whispered, and my pussy clenched down tight. He pushed off the bed, releasing me from the prison of his body and leaving me bereft of his touch. I didn’t know if I was relieved or sad to be free of him and before I could figure it out, he’d left the room.

  My heart eventually calmed, and I pushed myself up so that I could sit on the end of the bed. I curled my arms around my chest and hesitantly brushed my fingers against my nipples. They still felt sore, as if his teeth were still biting down on them and my gentle touches did nothing to make the ache fade away.

  I looked toward the door, feeling his absence rather keenly. I drew my knees into my chest, hearing something down the hallway. I started when Clara came in through the door pushing a large cart with garment bag slung over her shoulder.

  I looked for something to cover up my nakedness. The towel was on the other side of the bed though and if I lunged to grab it, I would only show her more of my body. Instead, I stayed sitting on the end of the bed, trying to pretend like this was the most normal thing in the world when it most definitely wasn’t.

  “I have your dress ready as well as your undergarments,” she began. Her smile was soft and warm, and I nodded with understanding. To be honest, I wasn’t really sure what else to do except go along with whatever this was. She offered me a hand and I took it, no longer trying to shield my body from her eyes. She brushed my hair over my shoulder, just looking at me before she hung the garment bag on a hook on the wall.

  With a clinical purpose, she unzipped it and revealed the dress I had chosen. There was a white corset bustier to wear beneath it, as well as a lacey pair of matching silk panties on a separate hanger. Thankfully, she passed me the panties first and I was able to cover up my pussy. She had me turn around and slip my arms into the corseted bra top and I waited patiently as she clipped the back closed. It lifted my breasts rather enticingly, but the fabric against my nipples was just enough to remind me what happened in this room a few minutes ago.

  I bit my lip nervously. If she noticed, she did not say.

  “Come. I’ll do your hair and makeup in the bathroom,” she said. I followed her without complaint. She pulled out a small bench and had me sit in it. She left me there for several minutes while she returned to her cart, bringing a small satchel with her that she slipped open on the counter. It was filled with makeup.

  “I’m going to start with your hair first. I thought we could do a partial updo and take advantage of these natural brunette waves you have. What do you think?” she asked. I looked thoughtfully back at her in the mirror.

  “I’d like that,” I answered simply, and she started to brush my hair. She fished out a hairdryer from a cabinet beside me and made quick work of the wet mop atop my head. I studied her while she worked, trying to figure out her place in all of this and I finally got the courage to ask her about it.

  “Clara?”

  “Yes, Zoe?”

  “Have you been working for Grayson for a while?”

  “I’ve been in his employ for the past ten years,” she answered.

  “What kind of things do you do for him?” I pressed.

  “Whatever he asks me to do. Most of the time I ensure his suite here is kept clean. Sometimes I run errands or cook him a meal, but today I’m assigned to you to make sure that your wedding day is perfect,” she answered.

  “As perfect as a forced marriage could be, I suppose,” I replied. She didn’t answer me and just continued to brush and style my hair. For a while, I was quiet. I’d fought this every step of the way, but it hadn’t seemed to get me anywhere.

  “Do you know why he chose me, Clara?” I finally asked softly, and her fingers lightly squeezed my shoulder.

  “I don’t know, Zoe, but I do know he’s never done anything like this for any other. In fact, I don’t know of anyone that he’s brought up here into the penthouse either. He doesn’t really do serious,” she ventured, and I pushed harder.

  “Serious?”

  She gathered the hair at the top of my head, sectioning it off so that she could begin to braid it.

  “I never thought I’d see the day Mr. Asher walked down the aisle and made a woman his wife,” she admitted, looking sheepishly at me as she continued to work on making me the image of the perfect bride.

  “Is he a cruel man?” I asked.

  “No. He is a kind man, a good man. He would not offer his hand in marriage if he did not intend on taking care of you in all ways,” she said gently. There was nothing dishonest in the way she said those words. I didn’t want to believe her, but I knew there was a grain of truth in that because as rough as Grayson had been with me thus far, he hadn’t really hurt me.

  Sure, he’d spanked my bare bottom and my pussy hard enough to leave them sore and aching, but he hadn’t forced himself on me. He’d had me bent over his desk, pinned down for the taking, and he hadn’t taken me against my will. If anything, his refusal to fuck me was as mystifying as it was captivating.

  There was a knock on the door. A female employee walked inside the room carrying a platter with only one thing on top of it: another glass of wine.

  I knew it would be the same as before, my favorite. If I was getting married today, I might as well enjoy another glass on his tab.

  She curtsied politely as I took the glass from her. I murmured my thanks and took an appreciative sip before she smiled and left the room. Clara continued to fix my hair, curling and arranging it to perfection. When she was through, she started working on my makeup.

  “You don’t need any of this,” she mused. “You’re already so beautiful.”

  I blushed hard and looked down, unable to look back at her when she was being so unnecessarily kind.

  “If anything, Mr. Asher is lucky to have you,” the older woman added and just when I thought my face couldn’t heat any more, it did.

  “Thank you, Clara,” I eventually managed, and she just smiled.

  For a while longer, she added small touches to my face. She didn’t do anything particularly drastic, but by the time she was through I felt like a whole new woman. She made my eyes appear bigger and brighter, my lips fuller, my cheeks a bit pinker.

  “There now. Let’s get you in your dress,” she urged.

  “I feel so pretty,” I began, and she shook her head.

  “I had such a beautiful canvas to begin with. I just made your beauty shine that much brighter,” she offered, and I dipped my head bashfully. She took my hand and guided me back into the bedroom, where she took my dress off the hanger. She held it out so that I could step into it. She pulled it up my body and I slipped my arms beneath the straps. There was a plethora of tiny silk-wrapped buttons down the back, and she started from the top. It took her several minutes to work through them, but by the time she was finished the dress hugged my body like a glove.

  “There isn’t even anything to adjust,” she said as she fluffed my skirt. “It fits you perfectly.”

  She knelt down and slipped my feet into a white pair of silver jeweled kitten heels. I nearly fell when she grabbed my leg and forced a garter into place too.

  “Now come. Grayson will be waiting for you in the garden,” she smiled. She turned and walked out of the room, and I knew that the only option was for me to follow. She strode down another hallway that I hadn’t had a chance to explore earlier. There was a glass door at the end and what appeared to be a magnificent garden beyond it. She opened it and led me around the corner to the most beautiful rooftop I’d ever seen.

  There were flowers of every color, all in fresh bloom and when the breeze picked up gently, the scent of them took my breath away. The walkway was tiled, and bright red rose petals were scat
tered all the way to the end where Grayson was waiting for me. I swallowed hard as I looked back at him.

  Him the groom.

  Me dressed as his bride.

  Clara moved out of the way and the only thing left between me and Grayson was distance. I licked my lips nervously. There was another man beside him, a priest by the looks of it with the white cloth at his throat. Grayson held his hand out, indicating that I come to him, and I faltered. Like a cornered animal, I looked around, trying to find any last ways out and finding none. Grayson’s hand beckoned for me, and I finally managed to take that first step. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done.

  I walked down the aisle, knowing that the only option I had left was to go through with whatever sham this was supposed to be. When I reached Grayson, I studied his face for some clue as to why he’d picked me to be his bride and found nothing but pure and steadfast adoration.

  “You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen,” he whispered.

  “You can’t make me do this. You can’t make me vow to be your wife,” I said angrily. He reached for me, and I flinched visibly, expecting him to slap me. He didn’t. He gently ran his thumb along my cheek and smiled down at me.

  “You can speak your vows like a good girl, Zoe, or I will lift your dress and belt your bare little bottom in front of everyone watching and then you’ll say your vows for me anyway with your ass bright red and on display,” he continued, his voice sure and calm and entirely too steady. My bottom tightened physically, remembering what the painful lash of his belt had felt like across my naked skin. I swallowed hard and nodded once.

  I glared back at him.

  “You may hold the upper hand right now, but I will fight this with everything I have. A wedding like this would never hold up in court. You know that,” I countered bravely.

  “I have very good lawyers. I pay them a lot of money to get things done for me,” he said softly.

  “You know I’m right,” I snapped, and he smiled almost with a sense of pride.

  “I do know you’re right, my pretty bride,” he said thoughtfully. He pulled me in a bit closer, the touch of his lips just grazing against my earlobe.