Becoming Mrs. Benedict

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Becoming Mrs. Benedict Page 3

by K. Webster


  He massages my breast before dramatically wrenching himself away from me and climbing out of the tub. His soaked trousers are glued to his muscled frame, and I want to curse at him for having ruined everything. Had he not been hell-bent on revenge, we could have been together. We could have found love with each other.

  But he did not. Instead, he murdered my father.

  I rise from the water and step out of the tub. He glances over his shoulder at me and once again gazes at my naked form.

  “Goddammit, Ella! You’re making this very difficult,” he snaps.

  I storm past him but not before casting a disdainful glare his way. “I don’t even know why I tried. I’m sure Mr. Caulder is a much better lover anyhow, seeing that you couldn’t please either one of my sisters.”

  And then I brace myself for the impending storm that is sure to come.

  SHE’S A WITCH.

  Just like Edith.

  Just like Elisabeth.

  The Merriweather women have an evil way of slipping their tentacles around my heart and clutching it. With Elisabeth, it was love. A pure, simple love between a boy and a girl. She stole my heart with her coy smiles but hidden curiosities. I loved her with every part of me.

  And then she pulled away from me. We were to be married, yet she dangled her virginity in front of me like a fucking carrot. I was outraged but mostly hurt. Why didn’t she understand that, had we slept together before I’d left for university, it all would have worked out? I would have only had eyes for her.

  Instead, she teased and toyed with me, and on the eve of my leaving, she withheld what she knew I desperately needed. I was a man with a voracious sexual appetite but had no way of whetting it. For a girl who claimed she loved me, she tormented me by allowing me to believe we could lose our virginity together. All I ever wanted was her impregnated by my seed and our living a simple life on the farm.

  But alas, she refused me.

  And I was angry.

  However, at university, I began to cool. My studies were important to me, and I wanted to be the best man I could before I came back for her.

  Then Edith fucking ruined it all. She all but threw herself at me. The witch harassed me with her forward nature, and my cock wanted what Lissa didn’t want to give. Edith offered solace with her body. A place to release my tension and sexual desires. At first, I was horrified that I was considering her, but soon, I found myself in her room and then, moments later, inside her.

  Her body was fucking amazing.

  She ignited the flickering flames in my soul until they were raging fires. I couldn’t put them out. All I wanted was to be inside Edith whenever the mood would strike. She wasn’t Lissa—my heart wasn’t attached to hers—but she provided me with something else. The woman with a silver tongue allowed me to take what I wanted—what I needed—without receiving anything in return.

  It was almost too good to be true. A woman to fuck until I got back to the one I was to marry.

  But she became attached. She fucking threatened to tear apart what I had with Lissa. With Lissa, my heart wanted to grow old. Had she given herself to me at sixteen, none of this would have happened!

  Edith was sorely mistaken. I could never love her. Why couldn’t she see she was merely a dumping ground?

  All was well until I came back. My girl had grown into a beautiful woman. Her curves had swelled, and I nearly went mad with the prospect of fucking her at the first possible chance. With each smile, kiss, and touch, Lissa made nonverbal promises to make up for four years before. I was prepared to take what was mine and move on with my life.

  And then Franklin, the now-dead arse, made the worst mistake of his life. He involved himself with Lord Thomas. Made a fucking mockery of my engagement to Lissa. That idiot gave his daughter away to a man willing to pay enough.

  Then Lord Thomas took her.

  He fucking took my woman as if she were a damn trophy.

  I lost my goddamned mind. All of my energy was spent trying to come up with tactics on ways to rescue her from him. I was confident in the thought that I would steal her and take her to France.

  But the Earl of Havering further ruined my life.

  He’d discovered my relations with Edith somehow. Threatened to use them against me. These men all deserved to die—and by my hand. It was only fair.

  When Lissa chose Lord Thomas over me, I died.

  A part of me was left on the blood of that man’s fists after he beat me up and I crawled out the window. Without her, I had nothing to live for.

  That night, I drank myself stupid in a nearby pub and complained to any arse who would listen.

  One man listened with rapt attention.

  Samson Caulder.

  He felt sorry for me.

  This man took me into his home. He fed my rage with his mutual hate for Lord Thomas. Made me his apprentice. And together, we plotted and planned.

  An idea formed.

  There was no guilt as he suggested we take the youngest Merriweather girl. There was nothing but the urge to seek justice. Too bad it took a year for the proper conditions to turn about—for her father to become weak and ill. When my parents had so innocently informed me of his illness, I knew I had to move to get her. The man would have fought me for her had he not been on death’s bed. Even though Caulder was out of town, it had to be done with or without his help, for it was our plan all along.

  This was my justice—ruining their lives in whichever way I could. Ruining Ella.

  It was all too simple. I very gladly killed Franklin, which was the easy part. Ella was to be handed over to Caulder, and we were to use whatever means necessary to extort all we could from Lord Thomas. Elisabeth could see if she still loved him when they were without a cent to their name or a roof over their heads.

  Would she come crawling back to her true love?

  But now that I have Ella in my clutches and the plan is set into motion, something niggles at me. I made the mistake of kissing her perfect, plump lips that night. The idea of taking her overwhelmed me. How wonderful would it be to take the innocence of the youngest Merriweather, who resembles her older sister, Lissa?

  The idea infected me. Diseased my mind.

  Caulder wanted his virgin.

  I was his pawn in a much larger scheme of revenge.

  Yet . . .

  The witch sank her claws into me. Teased me. Fucking toyed with me.

  One sister teased me with her virginity. Made promises she never intended to keep. The second one gave it up easily but wanted my damn life in return. And now, another one dangles yet another fucking carrot?

  I’m not the man I was before.

  I have nothing to live for—so why not take what I want?

  The bitch is practically handing it to me—begging me to take it.

  And, my God, I fucking want it.

  I want to feel how she cries and squirms beneath me as push myself into her. Her discomfort will be a salve to my heart, which has been raked across the coals. It will feel as if I have garnered some tiny bit of retribution for what this family has done to me—the first of many acts to soothe my soul.

  “I don’t even know why I tried. I’m sure Mr. Caulder is a much better lover anyhow, seeing that you couldn’t please either one of my sisters.”

  Ella’s words stab my heart and reopen the wound I daily attempt to hold together. The bitch just won’t let it go.

  Caulder will put a bounty on my head for this. Our deal will shatter the moment I fuck this girl. And boy, am I going to fuck her now. There’s no backing away this time. I’ve dealt with her crazy arse for nearly a week.

  She wants to become Mrs. Benedict?

  Then I will take her. Make her mine. I’ll steal off with her and use her body. Exact my revenge every day as I fuck her whenever the mood strikes. She will bear my children. Cook my meals.

  Fucking serve me.

  Her family has spent the past five years ruining me.

  Now, it is time to spend my lifetime ru
ining theirs—all starting with the insane, dirty girl before me. As she arches her brow in a disdainful challenge, I pounce.

  She’s mine now.

  JASPER THINKS I’M INSANE.

  My brother assumes it’s a lost cause.

  But my new buddy, old man Gerald, gets me. He understands why I’m doing this, and that is why he is with me tonight. Ever since I came to the Thomas estate, he and I have connected much like a father and son would. I trust the old man as a confidant and friend.

  “I’ll wait out here. See if I can garner any information,” he grumbles. It’s late, nearly midnight, but the pub is still open.

  I nod my thanks and push through the door. The pub is full of life, which causes the muscles in my neck to relax. I can blend in, ask questions, and not bring much attention to myself.

  After sauntering over to one end of the bar, I sit and dip my head. When I feel as though people have become bored with my arrival, I scan the room almost as if I’m looking for a woman to take home with me.

  I am looking for a woman to take home with me. A certain blond-haired, blue-eyed, innocent woman.

  “Scotch. Neat,” I answer the bartender when he asks me what my poison will be.

  While he makes my drink, my attention is drawn to a couple of men in one corner. They’re drunk and loud, but something about them has me turning an open ear to them. The moment I hear one of them mention Lord Thomas, I stand and slowly walk toward them.

  “Are you friends with him?” I question.

  The bigger of the two men stands and glares at me. “What’s it to you, pretty boy?”

  I scoff at him. “I owe that arse money and he won’t grant me an extension,” I complain. My lie is smooth on my tongue, and the fool believes me, because he slaps me on the shoulder and invites me to sit with them.

  “A man who hates Lord Thomas is okay in my book,” he booms with laughter.

  The bartender drops my drink on the table, and I knock it back before interrogating these men. The bigger of the two men says that he’s off to take a leak outside and leaves me alone with the other one who just spoke.

  “He’s a pussy these days. I hear he took on an apprentice to collect his debts because he’s bogged down with a family,” I tell him.

  He nods and leans forward conspiratorially. “The man is about to pay.”

  Finally, some fucking information.

  “Oh, really?” I shoot him a wicked grin. “Do tell, friend.”

  “Our boss man is going to fuck up his wife’s sister.”

  Rage explodes within me, but I maintain a cool demeanor aside from the gritting of my teeth. “Too bad you can’t fuck him up instead.”

  The man chuckles. “No, this will be better. Caulder plans on extorting an exorbitant amount of money out of him, but not before smashing that Merriweather girl under his feet. It will ruin Lord Thomas, because not only will he be broke, but I’m sure his wife will hate him as well.”

  I force an evil smile. “I like this Caulder guy. Does he have her now?”

  He shakes his head. “Benedict has her. Took her right out of her bedroom window. The man has her until Boss gets back from France.”

  This is the best information I’ve come across in five fucking days.

  “Here in London?” I question. Then I not-so-patiently wait for him to chug his drink.

  “Yep. On Cosgrove Street. He’s staying with her at the abandoned shoe shop Caulder owns. Why are you so interested anyway?”

  Smirking at him, I stand from the table. “I’ve been waiting for the day to see him fall for some time. Maybe this will get me out of the debt I owe him.”

  He nods and raises his glass to me. “You can guarantee it.”

  I slap a few coins onto the table and walk out of the pub as if I don’t have a care in the world. But the moment I reach the night air, I jog toward Gerald.

  “Cosgrove Street. Now,” I growl.

  “Shall I fetch the coach?” he questions.

  “No, too conspicuous. I’ll go on foot. Bring the coach to where Cosgrove meets Houghton Avenue,” I instruct.

  He grabs my shoulder and squeezes. “Be careful, son. That William character is a bad fellow.”

  I scowl. “And I’m his worst fucking nightmare, old man.”

  With that, I trot off into the darkness and grip my knife, which is sheathed in the belt of my trousers. Tonight, I’m going to bring her home. But not before killing that arse first.

  Ever since the moment we received word that she was taken, I have been mad with the need to find her. The man who has her is a murderer. When the doctor went to check on Mr. Merriweather, he discovered that the old man’s throat had been slit from ear to ear. The doctor said that his death had been a quick one.

  What horrified everyone, aside from their father being murdered, was the fact that Ella was missing. That arse took her for reasons that were unknown to us until now. Now, as I prowl along the buildings and through alleyways toward her, I know that it was all an act of fucking revenge.

  Of course, Jasper and I discussed this idea, which is why I urged him to take Elisabeth to Havering. Getting them out of London was a must, considering that William hates Jasper for having taken his fiancée. Little Gus and their unborn child need the protection only our estate back home could provide.

  I promised both Edith and Elisabeth that I’d bring their sister back to them. Now, I’m so close to finding her after five long fucking days. Soon, I’ll have the sweet, innocent flower of a woman in my arms. I was drawn to her the moment I laid eyes on her at Alexander and Edith’s wedding reception.

  Edith expressed her wishes for me not to pursue the woman. At the time, I agreed. However, it was only for the mere fact that she wasn’t of age. I also had nothing to show for myself as a man. After I came back to London, I learned Jasper’s business. He took me on as an apprentice. And I was almost ready to begin courting her when she was taken.

  A scream suddenly snaps me from my thoughts.

  Ella!

  Bolting toward the noise at the end of the street, I unsheathe my knife as I run to her. I will save this woman. When she is finally in my arms, I’ll never let her go. I will spend the rest of my life protecting the girl.

  Stupid fucking William will die by my hand.

  This ends tonight.

  “WHAT DID YOU SAY to me?” William snarls.

  I give his wet body a once-over. Feigning disinterest, I lift my nose in the air. “I said, William, that if you couldn’t satisfy my sisters, you could not come close to satisfying me.”

  His face reddens with anger as he shoves his wet trousers down to his ankles. When he rises back up, his erect cock bobs in front of him. Suddenly, fear threatens to overwhelm me.

  What am I doing?

  I am getting myself out of here.

  “No wonder.” I narrow my eyes at his cock. “I expected something a little larger.”

  My words cause him to explode, and he pounces on me. I have the instinct to run from him, but that will only send me right back into the cellar. Instead, as he reaches me, I throw myself into his arms.

  “I’ll make them all pay for ruining me,” he threatens, his body pulsating with rage.

  I run my fingers through his hair and whimper. “Shh, William. Take me.”

  His tense body relaxes once he seems to understand I was only riling him up, and he smashes his mouth to mine, kissing me as if he has something to prove. I could care less if he’s a good lover or not. This is a means to an escape.

  I moan when his large hands find my arse and he lifts me up. Knowing that he wants to hold me, I hook my long legs around his waist. Then he strides from the room with me in his arms and carries me into the bedroom.

  “I cannot believe I’m choosing this body over all of that fucking money—over everything,” he grumbles as he lowers us onto the bed.

  No virgin. No money.

  I can do this. It’s just William. If I have to lose it to anyone, I’d rather it be him
than the stranger to which he planned on selling me. Even if he did murder my father, he is still William from down the road—well, at least in looks. Deep down inside, he’s something wicked and evil. However, I’m desperate to leave this place and will do whatever is necessary to do so—even if that means sleeping with the devil.

  “Make love to me,” I say, goading him.

  “God, yes,” he murmurs before kissing me hard enough that I can barely breathe. “I’m so goddamned tired of not getting what I want.”

  At the way his large cock rubs along the thatch of hair on my pubic bone, I begin to feel panic rising. He seems way too big and I’ve never really explored what I am sure is a small opening.

  “Will it hurt?” My question is my only sign of weakness.

  He breaks our kiss to look down at me. His features have softened, and I see genuine affection in his eyes—the William I remember from when I was much younger.

  “Sweet girl, only for a moment.”

  Clamping my eyes shut, I bite the inside of my cheek and wait for it. As if he’s punishing me, he teases my entrance with the tip of his cock. I’m not aroused—this is going to hurt.

  “I’m going to marry you. After we make love, I’m taking you away from here. You’ll become my wife—Mrs. Benedict. I will look after you forever,” he promises, “and you will be mine. I deserve to have you.”

  I shut his words out and prepare for him to do his worst. An instant later, he slams into me. Fire rips through me and I scream. Forceful thrusting begins, and I keep waiting for the painful moment to pass. But it doesn’t.

  “So fucking tight,” he grunts as I sob. “I deserve this so fucking much.”

  When his mouth finds mine again, I lie there like a corpse and let him take me. The burn in my southern region is fierce and mind boggling. And as I give in to the hysterics that were threatening to take over, tears stream down my face.

  “Th-this hurts,” I garble out.

  He grunts once more before he pulls out of me. I cry out, almost thanking God for the reprieve. But then I remember that God isn’t here with me.

  Finally, I peek my swollen eyes open to see him fisting himself until ropy spurts of semen pour from him all over my belly.

 

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