Marrying Master

by Lexie Syrah

  Copyright

  Marrying Master

  Copyright: Lexie Syrah

  Published: March 10, 2020

  Publisher: Lexie Syrah

  Lexie Syrah has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the books publisher.

  Lexie Syrah (March 10, 2020). Marrying Master

  All Characters in this Book are over the age of 18.

  This book contains strong sexual content

  Chapter 7:

  Light streamed through the slits in the blinds in the penthouse that I’d spent the last week living in with my future husband, Dante. He was up already, and when I opened my eyes, a part of me didn’t want to move. I knew I’d have to face more than just Dante; I’d have to face the previous night and the misery that I’d felt. The sheets felt so good against my naked skin. I didn’t want to leave the safety of them.

  Normally, I’d have woken up with sex. I’d spent the last six days riding a sexual daze, where I was focused on sex nearly the entire day. I’d been a virgin a week ago. Dante had taken that from me, and whatever happened, I’d never forget him, never forget the pure ecstasy he’d made me feel when he’d touched me, when he’d used me for both of our pleasure.

  Today was different. Today was the end of the test that he’d required before he told the mail order bride agency that he wanted to marry me. Or didn’t. Until last night, I’d felt secure that he wanted me, and I’d felt secure that I wanted him. As I moved and felt the pains in my pussy and ass, the memories of last night flooded my mind, and I couldn’t push them off anymore.

  Last night, Dante had given me to four strangers while he watched. They’d fucked me in my every way even as I’d screamed in pain. It wasn’t the pain that made it horrible. Dante had hurt me, and I had loved it. This was different because I couldn’t feel Dante, couldn’t touch him.

  He was the hero to my story, and if he needed to feel me hurt, I could give that to him. I could let my pain ease whatever hole was inside him that needed it. What had happened last night wasn’t the same. It had been senseless pain, and I had wanted him to save me, not to sit and watch. He hadn’t been my white knight last night, and as I thought about it, I didn’t know how to make it okay.

  I loved the man, or at least had thought I had. It was different now, less childish. He was no longer this god in my mind, no longer a man above all other men. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe I shouldn’t worship the man that I was supposed to marry. At the same time, it hurt to think of him as anything other than my white knight.

  I stood up. I couldn’t give into the depression that I was sinking into. Regardless of my feelings, I knew that the right thing to do was to accept the marriage that he would most likely offer. I wouldn’t find a better husband on paper. He was rich beyond my wildest dreams. He was handsome. He could help me to help my mother and father to have a better life where they didn’t have to work their hands to the bone in the factory here in Romania.

  That was why I’d signed up for the mail order bride program. That was why I had agreed to marry a man without dating him. I may have fallen in love with a man I’d thought of as a god and had that image shattered, but he still was everything I needed and wanted from a husband.

  I stretched, reaching my hands to the ceiling, and walked into the dining room to see Dante already dressed and ready for the day. He sat on the couch, his eyes staring down at his phone until he heard me pad softly into the room.

  “Good morning, Elena. How did you sleep?” he asked as he put his phone into his pocket and looked at me.

  “I don’t know. I slept,” I said, not knowing how to do the whole small talk thing. It was difficult confronting him. He was intimidating now that I didn’t feel like the ground we stood on was quite as solid as it had been yesterday morning.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” he asked, pointing towards the typical breakfast we’d had every day for a week, cold slices of meat, fruits, and cheeses with good thick bread. I sat down in a leather chair across from him.

  “Not yet. Is there coffee?” I hadn’t had any coffee in a week, and truthfully, I’d been excited at the thought of every day until today. Today was a coffee day.

  “I haven’t made any, but I can.” He stood up and walked across the room the kitchen area of the penthouse. I watched as he deftly prepared coffee and realized that I’d never seen him make anything or do anything. All I’d really seen him do was fuck me. We’d talked and walked, we’d flirted and done all those new couple things, but I’d never seen him do the simple things that men do like make coffee.

  I liked watching him do things for me. It was a silly thing, but it was a human thing, and once again, I realized just how high of a pedestal I’d put Dante on. “I’m sorry about last night, Elena,” he said without looking at me. He was ashamed of himself again. He was ashamed of all of the things that he’d asked me to do this past week, and it hadn’t made sense at the beginning. Now, it was beginning to.

  “Coffee first. Then we’ll talk,” I said. The smell of the coffee grounds being poured into the mini coffee pot had my mouth watering. My parents had made a fresh pot of coffee every morning. It had been one of the few universal truths in my life while I was growing up. We may not live in the same house every years, we may not be able to afford good food, and we may not be able to do a lot of things, but no matter what happens, every morning would bring the smell of fresh hot coffee.

  I had grown up with that smell, and as I became an adult, I had begun drinking it. It had become just as integral to my human existence as it had been for my parents, and this past week had been the first real break from that in my entire life. Today was back to reality, and I needed coffee to function, needed it to have those hard talks that needed to happen.

  I relaxed and closed my eyes for the few minutes while the coffee dripped into the pot, slowly but surely filling the glass carafe with the dark life sustaining liquid. My body relaxed into the leather of the chair, letting the cool and smooth material chill my skin without touching the heat that radiated inside me.

  I let my mind run through the images of the past week and tried to understand how we’d gotten to last night. I thought through the way that Dante had controlled my body each and every day with his voice, his hands, and his cock. I thought about the ways that he’d forced my body to his will and his desires. I’d cum so many times for him.

  I thought about his hands on my body, and I felt the heat that radiated in me grow closer to the skin. He’d put that fire inside me, and it wasn’t gone now even though we’d had a strange night that had changed us somehow.

  I heard this hiss as the last little bit of water ran through the piping inside the coffee pot and turned to steam around the heating element. The coffee was almost done. I was ready to talk.

  I opened my eyes and saw Dante pouring the coffee into cups, one for each of us. He brought me a cup and sat down across from me, his suit and tie a stark contrast to my nakedness. It made sense in a way. I was bared to him constantly, but he hid behind his masks, hid behind his clothes, his money, his other world that I knew nothing about. He knew everything about me.

  I took a sip of my coffee after blowing on it for a few seconds, and I let the warmth of it fill me with life. “Dante, I told you that I’d do whatever you wanted. I’d be whoever you wa
nted.” I took a deep breath. “And I still will. If you wanted me to go through what I went through last night every night, I’d do it, but I wouldn’t do it for you. I’d do it for the money, for the safety of my family, for my future. I’d do it as an indentured servant would do for her master.”

  I took another sip and watched his unmoving gaze as he waited patiently for me to finish. I put the cup down and said, “If that is what you require, if that’s what you want, then I will resign myself to that fate. I could not love a man who would force me to go through that, who would give me to men like that and enjoy the torment.”

  “Everything else, and I mean everything, including the night at the club, I would happily do for you and continue to love you for it. I don’t see any of that as flaws or things to be afraid of. I can find pleasure in those things, and I can love the man who would allow me to please him in those ways. Does this make sense?”

  Dante was quiet for several moments as he took a sip of his coffee and thought about what I’d said. “Yes, that makes complete sense. Elena, I haven’t ever cared for a woman like I care for you. I enjoy watching women hurt for my pleasure. I enjoy their misery, not their submission, not their pleasure through pain, and not their faked misery. I enjoy their misery. I have always gotten off on making them feel things they never want to feel again.”

  “I can’t let you feel that way. I can’t put you through that. It hurts me more than I could ever believe it would. And so I promise you, I will never make you do that again. I will never require you to do something that you hate.”

  He was quiet after that as he waited for me to respond. “Then I accept your apology, Dante. I love you, and I hope we never have another night like last night.” I gave him as big of a smile as I could.

  “Good,” he said. “Then you should finish your coffee and go get dressed. There’s a dress in the closet for you. Your parents will be here in a few minutes, and I doubt you want to greet them without any clothes on.”

  I gave him a quizzical look, and he grinned back. “The test is done. As long as you’ll have me, we’ll be married in two weeks. I was sure you’d want to tell your parents all about it.”

  The thought of marrying Dante was not quite the all-encompassing joy it once was, but it still made me extremely happy. It was what I’d lived my life in hopes of, and now I would get to tell my mother and father about it. I hoped that they’d be as happy as I was. I hoped that they would like Dante. It would be hard to convince them that some of the things were okay.

  I gulped down the rest of my coffee and stood up. I tried to put a smile on my face, but I knew that it was only the shadow of the smiles I’d worn the past week. I walked up to Dante, his eyes never leaving my body, and I stood up on my toes to give him a kiss. It wasn’t a kiss full of passion or desire, wasn’t a kiss that would rip the lust out of the center of his being and bring it to the surface. It was a chaste kiss, one full of emotion having nothing to do with cocks and pussies. It was a kiss that said, “Thank you. I love you. We’ll make it.”

  I stepped back, and neither of us said anything as I turned and went to the bathroom to shower. I got into the hot water and washed the night off me. Steam and soap stripped me of the past. We would make it through this. Dante was a good man, and he had not broken any promises. In fact, when he’d said that this week would be hard, I hadn’t believed him after the first few days. He’d been right about it in the end, but it truly was nowhere near as hard as he’d made it seem.

  And so I scrubbed my body. I cleansed the filth of the strangers off of me, and when I finally turned the water off and ran a towel over my body, I felt better. The caffeine had given me life, but when I looked in the mirror at my once flawless naked body, I was disgusted.

  Bruises covered huge sections of my body, some healing and turning green, and others just beginning. Fresh fingerprint bruises circled my breasts and hips from last night, but there were huge swathes of skin that had been covered with them. My ass and back, my inner thighs, and even my breasts. Dante had not been kind to my skin.

  Through the week, I’d seen them, but it was like I was just waking from a fever dream and seeing things in reality for the first time. What would my mother think if she saw me like this? What would she say if she knew what I’d done for us?

  My father would try to kill him if he knew. Even if he knew that I’d enjoyed it. My mother would cry for days thinking about it, thinking about the fact that I had resigned myself to marry him. They would never think of him as anything but an abusive husband, but I knew the difference. I’d seen abused wives. They didn’t beg their husbands to keep swinging the belt. I had begged him, I’d needed it once he’d started.

  Maybe we were both broken. Maybe I needed him as much as he needed me. I thought about his strong arms around my broken body, and I shivered. I wished he was here touching me, roughly holding my bruised flesh, claiming the body that he’d marked.

  I would never let my parents know about our broken desires for each other. I would never tell them that I wanted to hurt for Dante. I’d keep our secrets safe so that my parents wouldn’t cry for us.

  I walked into the closet and saw the dress Dante had hung up. It was a sleek and shimmering gray that seemed to change colors in the light as the fabric moved. When I’d put it on, the dress hugged my torso, becoming a second skin, and the bottom flared giving it a flowing appearance, constantly shifting colors in the light.

  My mother would never be able to make a dress like this. I smiled as I imagined the look she’d give me. I could feel my hard nipples barely forcing the tight fabric to allow them to be seen. She’d be annoyed at my sluttiness because I wasn’t wearing a bra, but at the same time, she’d see the beauty in the dress and me.

  I did my hair quickly and skipped the makeup. I came out of the bedroom and Dante was sitting on the couch again, on his phone. One day, I’d figure out what he did on that phone that could keep him entertained for so long.

  Almost immediately, a knock on the door startled both of us. We hadn’t had anyone disturb us in a week. This had been a safe place separate from the world. That time was up though, and a real smile crossed my face.

  I ran to the door, shoeless and full of excitement. I opened the door and immediately reached out for hugs from my parents. I’d never been away from them for this long, and I was sure that they’d been scared for me.

  My mother, a forty-two year old woman with long dark brown hair. She smiled at me as I pulled back from my hug to immediately hug my father. I got my eyes and hair from him while I’d gotten my dark skin from my mother.

  “Elena, that dress is beautiful,” my mother said as she pulled at the dress’s fabric, admiring it. “Though it is a bit tight, don’t you think?”

  “Hush, Mina,” my father said with a huge smile on his face. “The girl is a woman now. She can wear what she wants.” He turned to me and said, “Well Lena, may we come in or are you going to keep us out here?”

  I laughed without ever letting the smile leave my face. “No, come in, come in,” I said and walked back into the room. Dante was standing not far from the door, giving me time to embrace my parents. “And this must be Dante,” my father said as he stepped forward with his hand out.

  Dante shook his hand and said, “Yes sir. I’m Dante.” My father introduced himself, “And I am Bren. It is good to meet you, young man.”

  I watched Dante interact with my family and realized that he had no problem dealing with strangers. His manners were flawless, and his motion was graceful as he moved. He made my mother smile and even blush as he complimented her.

  “Now Dante, I’m glad you invited us here today, but I am not quite sure why you did. You just said that it was important.”

  Dante smiled and nodded to me, and I said, “Because we’re getting married!” My parents grinned at each other. “We expected that to happen, sweetheart. That’s the point of the agency.”

  I laughed and said, “No mama, we’re getting married in two we
eks.” Her eyes got big and the smile on her face was bigger than I’d ever seen. “Congratulations!” my father said with pure joy in his face.

  “That is one of the reasons that I asked you to come to see us.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope which he handed to my father. My father looked at me with a question in his eye. I shrugged my shoulders to let him know that I didn’t have an answer for him.

  He raised an eyebrow as he opened the envelope while my mother looked over his shoulder. He pulled out what looked like two ID cards and read the words on them before both he and my mother looked up and stared in a mixture of awe and confusion at Dante.

  “Elena loves you both, and I would not have you stuck in Romania waiting on the typical process to allow you to come to the US when we leave as it will take several weeks or even several months after we’re married.”

  “I officially hired you without you knowing it when I met your daughter. I pushed everything through so that you could have these before we were ready to leave after the wedding. So these green cards are yours and will be good long enough for the both of you to become American citizens.”

  My mother jumped up and, like a child, ran around the coffee table that separated us from them and hugged Dante. “Thank you so much. We don’t even know you, and yet you’re doing this for us. You have no idea what this means.”

  He smiled at her and said, “No, I know what it means for Elena, and I would do anything for her.” I kissed him, and this time, there was no way you could mistake it for a chaste kiss. “Thank you so much,” I whispered to him.

  “I’m not done,” he said with a chuckle. He pulled out his phone and flipped through a few screens. A picture of a small stone cottage with fields behind it and a flower garden in front of it appeared. “I hadn’t told you what you’re hired to do. You’ll be my official gardeners. This will be your residence which is about a quarter of a mile from the home that Elena and I will be living in most of the time. Those fields will be yours to do with as you please.”