Chapter 5 - Wedding Night
Luther grabbed my hand and dragged me through the grand hallway of his mansion. The dim light cast long shadows along the walls, making the place feel even more ominous. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I stumbled behind him, struggling to keep up. When I nearly fell, he caught me without missing a step-one strong arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. I could feel the heat of his body, the tension in his muscles.
"Watch your fucking step," he barked, his tone low and threatening.
I looked up at him, trembling, but I met his dark eyes with whatever strength I had left. "Where are you taking me?" My voice cracked despite the effort to sound firm.
His lips curled into a sinister smirk. "To our wedding night," he said darkly. "Remember?"
"No-let me go!" I twisted my wrist, trying to pull away from his bruising grip, but he only tightened his hold, the cold metal of his wedding band biting into my skin.
"Please..." I whispered, desperation creeping into my voice.
"Not a chance." Before I could react, he suddenly swept me up and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
I gasped, the breath knocking from my lungs. "Let me down!" I shouted, pounding my fists against his back. "You can't do this! Let me down!"
"Shut up!" he hissed, his voice like the crack of a whip. His steps thundered against the floor as he carried me out of the hall, past closed doors and silent witnesses-his men, all standing by with blank expressions as if this was all routine.
Panic surged through me. I didn't know where he was taking me. I didn't want to know. But deep in my heart, I already did.
"You could have any woman!" I yelled, clawing at his back. "Why me?!"
"Because your brother has my fiancée," he growled. "And now I have you. End of the story."
"You can't rape me!" I screamed, my voice raw with rage and terror.
"I can fuck my wife," he snapped back, his words cutting deep. "Now shut your mouth. You're giving me a headache."
The giant doors of a bedroom creaked open, and he stepped inside before tossing me onto the bed like I was nothing more than an object. I landed on soft satin sheets, my gown billowing around me. I pushed myself up and looked around. The room was drenched in darkness-black walls, black curtains, black sheets. The only color in the room was me... a ghost in a white dress, shaking with fear.
Luther stood at the foot of the bed, his chest heaving with quiet fury. "Take off your clothes," he ordered, his eyes locked onto mine as he began stripping away his own. There was no hesitation in his movements, no shame, no modesty. Just power.
First, he shrugged off his suit jacket, then unfastened his vest. He moved to his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it one button at a time, his gaze never leaving me. When he peeled it off, I could see the tan skin beneath-broad shoulders, thick arms, a hard chest carved like stone. His abs were tight and defined, his body built from control and dominance.
I couldn't move. My limbs felt frozen. Something vile churned in my stomach as I took in the sight of him, not because he wasn't attractive, but because I knew what he was going to do.
He took a step forward. "Take off your clothes, darling," he repeated, his voice low and chilling. "Don't make me ask again."
"No," I said firmly, my voice trembling. I slid off the bed and took a step back, ready to run-but he was faster. He caught my forearm in a bruising grip and yanked me against his bare chest.
My breath hitched at the sudden contact. His skin was warm, and I hated that my body reacted with fear instead of fight. I looked up into his dark, burning eyes.
"I don't want to have sex with you," I whispered.
"Yes, you do," he growled. "Or at least, you will. I gave you two hours to make a choice. You could've saved yourself, but instead you traded your body for your brother's freedom. Now it's time to pay the price."
"I did it for him!" I choked. "He's all I have."
Luther's expression hardened. "And now, you're all mine."
I flinched as he reached behind me and unzipped my gown, dragging it down my body with no care for gentleness or shame. The cold air hit my skin, and I stood there in just my bra and panties, exposed and vulnerable.
I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. My jaw trembled. My heart raced.
I hated this feeling-being powerless, being prey.
Then his hand curled around the side of my neck, tilting my face up to his. "Stop crying," he said harshly as his thumb wiped away a tear. "Be an obedient little wife. Strip and lie back. I've waited long enough."
When I didn't move, he snarled and leaned in, forcing his mouth on mine. His kiss was brutal-his tongue pushing past my lips, tasting, invading. I could feel the bitterness of wine on his breath, the anger in his grip.
But I refused to submit.
With a sudden surge of strength, I shoved his chest as hard as I could and stepped back. "Get off! Don't touch me!" I screamed. My body trembled-not just from fear, but from rage.
He stared at me, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His eyes narrowed, unreadable, and for a split second, the room went still.
A storm was coming. And I wasn't sure if I had the strength to survive it.
No one had ever stripped me against my will. No one had ever dared to force me. But Luther Spraggins wasn't just anyone-he was a monster in human flesh. A predator with too much power and no conscience. How could someone be so cruel? So merciless?
My skin crawled at the thought of him touching me. No one could invade my body without my permission. I wouldn't let him. I couldn't.
"Really?" He scoffed, voice low and dangerous as he prowled closer. I stumbled back instinctively, my breath catching in my throat. One more step and he was right there-his chest nearly grazing mine, his breath hot on my skin.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he growled, eyes blazing with something feral-rage, lust, pain. A storm of emotion I couldn't understand.
I hit the wall with a soft thud, cornered like prey. He placed one muscular arm above my head, his body caging me in. I could feel the heat radiating off him.
"You don't fucking know what your brother did!" he spat, voice rough with venom.
Before I could reply, his mouth crashed onto mine. The kiss was brutal, forceful, nothing like what a kiss should be. I shoved him away, but he grabbed both of my arms and twisted them behind me, forcing our bodies together. His strength was terrifying. I could feel the hard lines of his chest pressing into my soft curves. My body betrayed me, reacting to his dominance in ways I didn't understand.
"Fight me and I swear I'll kill you," he hissed against my lips, then kissed me harder, grinding against me.
I gasped as something shifted between my legs. A shameful heat bloomed. My nipples tightened against the fabric of my bra, and I clenched my thighs instinctively. I couldn't believe it. My body-my own traitor-was aroused.
When he reached behind me and unclasped my bra, I froze. The soft fabric fell to the floor, exposing me. My arms instinctively moved to shield myself, but he caught them and pushed them aside, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of my bare skin.
"Your body is so fucking responsive," he rasped, cupping my breasts roughly. A strangled moan escaped my lips, to my horror. I hated the way he made me feel. Hated that a part of me wanted to feel it.
He kissed me again-rough, fast, overwhelming. Then he shoved me harder against the wall, his erection rubbing against my stomach.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my breathing shallow and frantic. "Please stop," I whispered.
But he wasn't listening. His mouth traveled down to my neck, where he sucked and bit, marking me like I was his. His hand slipped between my legs and yanked off my panties in one brutal motion. Now I was completely bare, trembling and exposed.
He stepped back to look at me, eyes dark and full of hunger. "Baby, you're sexy," he murmured, voice thick with desire. Then, softer-almost curious-he asked, "Are you a virgin?"
I bit my lip and gave a small, terrified nod.
His gaze dropped to my thighs and the space between my legs. He groaned when he saw the wetness there, and reached out, stroking me slowly, almost reverently.
"Fuck... You're wet."
Shame consumed me. I turned my head away, humiliated.
"I'm going to fuck you right here," he said coldly, like it was a matter of fact.
He dropped his boxers, and his cock sprang free. My heart stopped. It was... huge. Too much. I shook my head in terror.
"I... I can't do this," I choked, tears slipping down my cheeks.
He didn't respond. Instead, he grabbed my arm, turned me around, and pushed my face against the wall. His body pressed against mine from behind. I could feel everything-his heat, his size, his rapid heartbeat.
"You liked it," he whispered in my ear. "And you're going to like my cock inside you."
He was the cruelest man I had ever met.
"It was supposed to be my wedding night. She was supposed to be mine. But your brother fucked everything up. He stole from me, so I'm stealing from him. I'm taking you, Noelle."
I shivered at the sound of my name on his tongue. It was the first time he'd said it.
"Sooner or later, you'll submit to me," he growled. "Don't push me. I'm not a patient man... and I will break you if you make me."
Then-just like that-he stepped back. Cold air hit my bare skin, making me shiver. I turned slightly, watching him silently pick up the rest of his clothes. He didn't say another word as he walked to the door and left, slamming it behind him.
Only then did I release the breath I'd been holding. I wrapped my arms around myself, my entire body trembling. On the floor, I saw his vest, his socks, and his tie-and next to them, a pocketknife. My heart pounded. I grabbed the knife and rushed into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
I stared at myself in the mirror. My makeup was smeared-mascara streaked down my cheeks, lipstick smudged across my mouth. My hair was a wild mess. Bite marks littered my neck and shoulders. I looked like a stranger.
I reached up and touched the bruises. My hand trembled.
What would happen if I gave in to him?
He would never be gentle. A man like Luther Spraggins didn't know how to love. He only knew how to take. I had to get out. I had to find a way.
I glanced at the ring on my finger. A massive diamond sparkled mockingly back at me.
His wife.
I would never accept him. Not as my husband. Not as anything.
I shook my head and turned on the shower. The hot water scalded my skin, but I didn't care. I needed to scrub him off me. His scent, his touch, his heat. But the memories lingered... the way he kissed, the way his voice dipped when he said my name...
God help me. My thighs clenched together again. I hated this. Hated him. But his touch lingered like a curse.
He was forcing me... wasn't he?
A sharp knock made me jump. I shut off the water and wrapped a towel tightly around myself.
"Mrs. Spraggins? Are you okay?" Mary's voice was a soft whisper through the door.
Relief flooded my chest. I opened the door, still dripping, and stepped out.
"Thank God you're okay," she said, eyeing me carefully. Then her eyes landed on the bruises on my neck. She winced. "Jesus... he's an animal, isn't he?"
Tears welled up in my eyes. "And still you won't help me?" I whispered.
She reached up and gently stroked my hair. "Oh, honey... I wish I could. I truly do. But even if I tried... he'd kill you. Do you know why Princess Winifred ran away from him? Because she knew. He's stone-hearted. Cruel in ways you can't imagine."
"What do I do, Mary?" I asked, desperate. "Please tell me how to get out of here."
Her eyes darkened. "Make him fall in love with you."
I blinked, stunned. "What?"
"It's the only way you'll survive him."
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