by K. Webster
Becoming Countess Dumont
Copyright © 2015 K. Webster
Cover Design: K. Webster
Photo: Dollar Photo Club
Editor: Mickey Reed
Formatting: Champagne Formats
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Newsletter
Books by Author K Webster
Dedication
Quote
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Becoming Mrs. Benedict
Acknowledgements
About the Author
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Books by Author K Webster
The Breaking the Rules Series:
Broken (Book 1)—Available Now!
Wrong (Book 2)—Available Now!
Scarred (Book 3)—Available Now!
Mistake (Book 4)—Available Now!
Crushed (Book 5)—Available Now!
Disgrace (Book 6)—Coming Soon!
Defiance (Book 7)—Coming Soon!
The Vegas Aces Series:
Rock Country (Book 1)—Available Now!
Rock Heart (Book 2)—Available Now!
Rock Bottom (Book 3)—Available Now!
Rock Out (Book 4)—Coming Soon!
The Becoming Her Series:
Becoming Lady Thomas (Book 1)—Available Now!
Becoming Countess Dumont (Book 2)—Available Now!
Becoming Mrs. Benedict (Book 3)—Coming Soon!
Apartment 2B (Standalone Novel)—Available Now!
Love and Law (Standalone Novel)—Available Now!
Moth to a Flame (Standalone Novel)—Available Now!
The Road Back to Us (Standalone Novel)—Coming Soon!
Alpha & Omega—Available Now!
Omega & Love—Coming Soon!
A CONTRACT.
To marry the Earl of Havering.
And he’s utterly sinful to look at.
Tall. Thick, dark hair. The beginnings of a beard.
It only took one second to make the decision. One tiny second to decide that I didn’t care if I spent the rest of my years in a loveless marriage. Love was for the weak anyhow. Look how things turned out for William and Elisabeth.
Love is a farce.
But money?
Power?
Sex?
Those are all very real and palpable. Considering Father nearly lost our farm and continues to struggle to make ends meet despite having sold his daughter off to the highest bidder, I’m in no hurry to rush back.
Nothing remains for me back at the farm aside from Ella.
The vision of my younger sister, with her wispy, blond hair and kind, blue eyes, makes my heart clench painfully in my chest. She’s an innocent and always will be. Ella is the type of girl that will marry another farm boy and be perfectly content with a simple, poor life.
Not me.
I’ve always required finer things. While at university, I learned this when a professor of mathematics, Sven, showed me what the world had to offer. He was teaching abroad while his wife and children stayed in Spain. Even though he came from money, teaching was his passion.
I was his passion.
Many nights, we shared a bed in his expansive home in London. Many nights, he lavished me with expensive gifts and wines. Many nights, he feasted upon me as if I were a world-class delicacy.
But when she showed up with the children?
He discarded me like I was a used-up whore.
I’d loved him.
Just like I’d loved William.
So I thought.
However, love is ridiculous and nothing more than a fleeting feeling. In both instances, I thought I was in love. Looking back, I simply needed their companionship. Their bodies pressed against mine. Their mouths worshipping my body.
Now, as I dip the quill pen into the ink, I smile.
For the rest of my life, I will have the best of everything. Wealth, power, a gorgeous faux husband, and whichever lovers who strike my fancy. Love won’t have a place in my life—messing things up as it’s done in the past.
“Are you having second thoughts, love?”
His voice sends a thrill through me as the pen holds still over the paper.
“Not at all, dear.” I flash him a conspiratorial smile. Heat washes over my skin when he rewards me with a lopsided grin.
“You’re a rare find, Edith. I am one lucky man.”
I know we’re talking about my eagerness to agree to his deal, but his words still make my heart pound.
He is lucky.
I am one of a kind.
“When shall we marry?” I question as I rewet the end of the pen in the ink and then scrawl out my signature.
The moment I sign, he snatches the paper away from me and scribbles his own.
“Tomorrow.” His word is simple, but I gape at him.
“Y-y-you don’t want to do that in front of your father? To make it more real for him?” I stammer, surprised by his answer.
He shakes his head as he fans the paper to dry the ink, his eyes never leaving mine. “You will soon discover my father sniffs out lies better than any hunting hound. That is why we need to marry and settle into a routine that will convince him before we return. Once I believe we are ready to return to Havering, Lord Thomas and your sister will come with us to bear testimony of our marriage and faithful love.”
I briefly snap my eyes closed at the mention of her. I’m not sure she’ll ever want to go anywhere with me ever again, considering what I did to her.
“Are you sure we can’t go alone?” I ask, reopening my eyes.
Steel-colored ones find mine, and he glowers at me. I square my shoulders and hold his gaze.
“You’ve signed the document. The deal is done. We do things my way. End of story,” he snarls.
I blink my eyes at him and wonder just what I may have hastily gotten myself into. “What if things don’t go your way? What if, when we get there, I tell your father everything?” I taunt. “What if I change my mind?” Some sinister part of me wants to know what will happen if I decide that this life of his isn’t for me.
His hand strikes like a cobra and catches my throat. Even though he doesn’t squeeze, terror floods my veins.
“Things will go my way. You will not tell my father. And you won’t change your mind,” he growls.
My lip trembles, and his eyes drop to them for a moment before glaring at me again.
“But what if?” I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Then I’ll kill you,” he says simply as he
releases my throat and begins folding the contract. “Accidental of course. Obviously, you don’t understand the importance of this matter. I suggest you clear that foggy head of yours and show up to the chapel tomorrow with a better attitude. It would be tragic if I lost my fiancée on the eve of our wedding.”
What.
Have.
I.
Done?
Almost six months later . . .
“BLOODY HELL, WOMAN,” VICTOR GRUMBLES as he stills within me.
My hands are tangled in his hair, and when he stops, I pop my eyes open to glower at him. “What?” I hiss.
But as I go to remove my fingers, I know.
I did it again.
The gigantic ring Alexander gave to me on our wedding day seems to get tangled in Victor’s hair every time he makes love to me. This time, the hair is really twisted around it. I slip my finger out of it and watch with amusement as it dangles there like some sort of head jewelry.
He pouts as he pulls out of me and begins fussing with his locks. The man really does act like a woman most days. His hair is his most prized asset, and the fact that we nearly had to cut it last time just about had him in hysterics.
“Shall I get the scissors?” I taunt.
He green eyes fly to mine, and I swear he might cry. Suddenly completely turned off by him, I slide out of the bed to dress. We had a good couple of month run, but I’m done.
“I can’t get it out!” he shrieks in a high octave.
I sigh heavily and ignore his whining while I slip my robe on. Finally, after having watched his struggles enough, I storm over to him. With one quick movement, I snatch the ring and rip it from his hair.
“You bitch!” he roars, this time sounding more like a man.
I bite back a giggle as I stare at my ring, which still clutches a rather large chunk of his hair. I’m about to ask him to leave so that I may be alone, but he bursts from the bed toward me. He surprises me, so I don’t have time to react before he backhands me across the cheek. I’m momentarily stunned before I find my senses.
“Get out!” I scream at him.
The man is outraged now, though, and won’t hear of it. This time, he closes his fist and hits me hard in the belly. Stars dance in my vision as I gasp for breath.
“A-Alexander!” I cry out between ragged sobs.
Victor has left me doubled over as he finishes pulling on his clothes.
A thump against the wall has me thanking the heavens that he’s heard me and will come to rescue me from this sissy barbarian.
“Alexander!” My muffled moan rings out through the paper-thin walls.
More thumping.
I should have known. He isn’t going to save me. At the moment, he is deep inside some whore—just like every evening.
When I taste blood, I raise my fingers to my lip and see that it has been split from the blow to the face. My eyes lift, and I find that Victor is nearly dressed. Maybe, if I can bite my tongue for a few more minutes, he will leave me and I can crawl back into bed to nurse my wounds.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
“You two have a fucked-up marriage,” Victor bites out as he turns to stare at me in disgust.
Until now, I’ve been quite pleased with the arrangement. I’ve only had to visit with Alexander for supper each night so that he can bore me with more details of his home and family. Like a good wife, I smile and take notes.
“Just leave,” I sigh and point to the door. My body aches from his abuse and I can’t bear to look at him anymore.
I’m shocked that, instead of leaving, he stalks over to me and his palm closes around my throat. I slap at him, but he hauls me toward the very wall Alexander is fucking his whore against.
“He’d probably love for me to take his little problem off his hands,” he snarls, and spittle lands all over my face.
All of this because of his ridiculous hair.
People are insane.
When he squeezes tighter, I try to pound on the wall behind me to get Alexander’s attention. Likely, he’ll choose to ignore me much like he does all the time. My fist connects with the wall, but as I attempt to hit it, I realize that Victor’s grip around my neck is making me weak.
“What? Are you trying to let him know you need help? Here,” he snaps. “Let me assist you.”
He pulls my throat forward and proceeds to bash my head against the wall. I’m beginning to lose consciousness as I silently cry for a life I’ve always hated that is already ending.
Life never has been fair.
As my eyes fall shut, my thoughts find a memory of William.
A knock on my door startles me, and I rush over to answer it. I’m not surprised to see a brooding William standing on the other side. His broad shoulders are squared, and he appears to be angry.
“What?” I question and place my hands on my hips.
“You’re a witch,” he growls as he approaches me. “Why would you send that letter to my room?”
The letter.
I smile seductively at him. I told him all of the naughty things I wanted him to do to me. Since he was trying desperately to hold on to his virginity for Elisabeth, I thought I would relieve him of some of his pain.
“I simply stated the truth, William. If you want to make love to me—to sink your cock into someplace tight and hot—I’m your girl.”
He groans as he rubs his palms through his hair. When his blue eyes finally meet mine, though, they’re blazing.
“She can’t ever know. This can only happen to fulfill a need. I love her—not you,” he tells me coldly as he approaches.
I can hardly believe he loves her.
“Let’s make this quick. Lift your dress and bend over that chair.” He points toward the seating area in the kitchen.
I’m shocked at his bold words but do as I’ve been told. When the door slams behind me, I jump at the sound of it.
The moment I bend over the chair and lift my dress, I feel his palms on my arse. They’re warm as they scorch a trail of heat along my flesh. The sound of him undoing his trousers echoes behind me, and in the next fiery second, he hastily enters me, the sting of the burn taking my body over.
“Ahh!” I cry out at the sudden intrusion.
I snap my head over my shoulder to watch him as he takes me, but the look on his face frightens me. The menacing scowl indicates his disgust for me. The thought has barely formed in my head before he grabs a handful of my hair and shoves my face down onto the table.
“God, you feel so good,” he grunts.
I wait for him to touch me. To offer me pleasure. Anything.
All I get is the rhythmic thrusting and his testicles slapping the part of me that aches to be touched. I almost feel as if I could climax from it when he abruptly pulls out of me and spurts his hot orgasm on my arse.
“Um, maybe we can go lie down in my bed,” I murmur as it drips from the curve of my bottom and runs down my thighs.
His laugh is harsh. “And what? Let me hold you? Fuck off, Edith.”
I’m stung by his words, but I blink back the tears that threaten as I peer over at him. My dress falls back down while he’s busying himself with his trousers.
“Maybe you could love me instead?”
His blue eyes find mine, and he shakes his head. “Never. You’ll never be her.”
I chew on his words and have the desire to spit them on the floor at his feet. He turns on his heel and strides toward the door. As he opens it, he flashes me a grin so hot that my knickers nearly catch fire.
“Same time tomorrow?”
With a move that makes me hate myself a little more, I nod.
“Edith!” A deep, familiar voice snaps me out of my daze.
My head is no longer being slammed against the wall.
Alexander. And he’s charging toward us like a bull—a very beautiful bull. I blink away my dizziness to admire the way his muscles twitch and tighten as he stalks toward us. He’s wearing nothin
g but trousers and an enraged glare.
Victor sees him at the same moment I do and releases me. He doesn’t even have an opportunity to defend himself before Alexander smashes a fist into his face.
The sickening crunch of bone and flesh satisfies me to my very being.
Alexander, my hero.
I should stop him. I should attempt to pull him away from the man he’s crushing with each powerful blow to the head.
But I won’t.
I can’t.
I’m enraptured in the way he is defending me. His wife. Something niggles its way into my empty heart. I feel, for once, cared for and protected.
A high-pitched squeal rings out from the doorway. “Alexander! You’ll kill him!”
My eyes lift to the blonde with huge breasts. A white sheet barely covers her curvy body as she attempts to call my husband off from beating Victor into the wood floor. She sickens me. Even though he’s my husband for appearances purposes only, something upsets me when I see her. The events of the evening crush down on me, and I burst into tears.
I, Edith Lorelei Merriweather, am crying.
It doesn’t happen often.
Alexander tenses, and the fist that is poised quivers. He snaps his head to look at me and snares me with his feral look. His chest heaves with exertion, and blood drips from his clenched fist.
“Alexander, maybe we should call a doctor,” the blonde suggests.
He ignores her and studies my appearance. His eyes land on my lips, and he rises to his feet. With three short strides, his arms are around me.
“Are you okay?”
I nod against his chest, but the tears won’t stop. It feels safe here, tucked against him. Warm. Right.
“I-I-I’m s-sorry,” I stammer out.
For what? Getting beaten by some womanly man?
A growl rumbles in his chest. “Shh, I’m here now.”
I want him to lift me in his arms and carry me to my bed—to crawl in behind me and hold me until I’m long asleep.
“What about me?” the blonde demands behind him.
His voice takes on the edge that first frightened me on the eve of our wedding. “What about you?”
