Bride

by Sara Fields

  He strolled toward me, his brown eyes darkening with intention as he took each step. I stood my ground, but part of me began to grow nervous. I felt like a rabbit caught in a trap about to be pounced on by a prowling wolf.

  “You will need to learn to obey your husband,” he scolded gently, and my stomach pitched forward with nervous arousal. He moved closer to me, and I did the first thing that came to mind when he reached out to touch me.

  I threw my wine in his face.

  Chapter 4

  For several long seconds, I could have sworn that my heart had stopped entirely. I forgot to breathe as I watch the red liquid drip down his face and onto the white fabric of his shirt beneath his suit. The cabernet blossomed across the cloth, undoubtedly staining it beyond repair. His palm rose and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. Casually, he stared into my eyes as he wiped off his face and dabbed at his chest. His expression remained calm, showcasing not even a single sliver of anger.

  I expected his fury and when that didn’t come, that made me nervous. With a soft sigh, he reached forward and took the wineglass from my fingers. I watched him place it to the side in almost slow motion before things took a much swifter turn.

  His body turned toward me, and he grasped my upper arm. He roughly jerked me up and pulled me away from the couch, only to forcefully slam me against the wall. With quick intention, he gathered my wrists and pinned them above my head high enough that I had to balance on my tiptoes to keep from falling.

  “Grayson!” I gasped and his eyes bored into mine as he reached down and pulled up my skirt. There was no teasing this time, no slow lifting of the skirt. He just bared my pussy in one smooth motion. He bunched my skirt up around my waist, and I was exceedingly aware of the cool feeling of the wall on the scalded flesh of my bottom.

  That was until he cupped my pussy with his palm.

  Suddenly, I grew nervous. The last time his palm had touched me that way, he’d spanked me over his desk hard enough to leave the entirety of my backside bright red.

  “You will learn to obey me, bride. Disobedience will always come with a price,” he growled as his fingers slipped back and forth across my wet folds.

  A husky moan escaped my throat as he swirled a single finger around my clit, over and over again until my thighs began to tremble with need.

  “Did you obey me?” he asked carefully, and a sudden shiver of nervousness raced down my spine. He said those four words with such intention that I couldn’t stop a whimper from falling off my lips.

  “No,” I whispered hoarsely, ashamed of the way my voice quivered and revealed just how aroused I was by his rough treatment. He stared into my eyes so intently that I wondered if he could see deep down into the depths of my soul and that unsettled me enough to suck in a breath.

  “Refer to me properly,” he warned, and I swallowed hard, his electric threats racing just beneath my skin and catapulting straight down into my core.

  “No, sir,” I whispered, feeling my face heat a bit at his correction.

  With him close like this, I could smell the smokey citrus of his cologne, a mix of ginger and cherries and cigars. It was far more intoxicating than I cared to admit and as I took another deep breath, the heady combination of his scent and his body so close to mine made me feel as if the world was spinning beneath my feet.

  I told myself that it was the wine, but I knew that was a lie. I knew deep down that it was him.

  His palm squeezed my pussy the tiniest bit and I gasped, catching the way a wicked smile grew on his lips before my pussy was suddenly bare of his touch for a fraction of a second before it returned with a hard slap.

  I cried out in shock. The sound of the spank was so loud and wet that I immediately blushed, but the sting that followed was far more intense than I could have ever expected. The single smack was possessive and hard and so intensely shocking that I could do nothing but stare into his eyes after it.

  They were so very dark, so very cruel, but there was something else. There was heated arousal too and when the second smack followed, I cried out and his smile only grew even more wicked. I tried to bring my legs together, but he kicked them back open, making sure my pussy was easily accessible for a third hard spank that left me gasping and breathless.

  Oh, this hurt so much more than the spanking on my backside.

  The pain was so intense, but the throb that followed was so much worse. It was arousal in its most raw form, harsh and biting and needy. I’d never felt anything like it, but there was something about it that made me want more.

  He spanked my pussy hard several more times and the sting only continued to build. It folded in on itself, over and over until I keened with rising panic. In a moment, he’d taken control and torn it away from me. I struggled to keep my feet on the floor and my cries escalated with my struggle until at long last the spanks stopped.

  The throbbing that followed was mortifyingly intense. My clit pulsed harder than ever, and I closed my eyes, unable to look at him as a single drop of arousal slid down my inner thigh. My heart pounded in my chest, and I struggled to normalize the panting breaths that sounded hoarse even to me.

  Without pause, he cupped my pussy once more and I openly flinched, unable to stop the way I cried out with nervous anticipation of a harder spanking on my already very tender flesh. Instead, his fingers slipped inside my folds, and he found my aching clit, circling it and pressing firmly against it with intention. I mewled quietly in surprise as he teased me.

  The dichotomy between his gentleness and his roughness was vast, but for some strange reason I found it oddly compelling. I didn’t know what he would do next and that made my pussy far wetter than it had ever been before.

  He teased and taunted me with those masterful fingers, building and coaxing even more arousal forth than I thought possible. He slid over my clit lightly and a soft breathy moan echoed around me, pitifully needy and terribly wanting.

  “Your little pussy is so very wet after I spanked it bright pink, little girl,” he observed, and that single finger continued to torture my clit with agonizingly perfect intention. For several long moments, he held me on the cusp of orgasm, and I shook against him, digging my nails into my palm as his fingers squeezed tight around my wrist. I didn’t know if I wanted to come, but I was sure ready to fall apart on his fingertips right now. I almost needed to.

  His hand pulled away and I cried out in despair. The painful jolt of denial cut quickly to my core, and I couldn’t stop myself from pouting a bit in disappointment, but he didn’t allow me to wallow in it for long.

  He dragged his wet fingers across my face.

  My lips opened in a small circle, and I couldn’t hide my blatant surprise. He continued, spreading my own wetness across my cheek. He did that until his fingers were dry. He kept his eyes level with mine as he reached back down, gathering more of my arousal before dragging it across the other side of my face.

  He covered both my cheeks, my chin, the tip of my nose as well as my lips. There was so much of it that I shivered with shame, feeling a heated flush rise over my cheeks. There was no hiding how embarrassed I was, nor how aroused this was making me either. By the time he was finished, my entire face felt slick with my own arousal. It cooled as it started to dry, but I could feel its stickiness on my skin.

  I nervously licked my lips, tasting my musky sweetness as I did so. I whimpered softly and his grin widened even further.

  My chest rose and fell as I forced in one long breath after the next. I tried to grapple with my shame all on my own, but he didn’t let me.

  “I will give you another chance to shower later, my disobedient little bride,” he murmured, and a nervous cry hitched in the back of my throat.

  “Please,” I began, but I clamped my lips shut as he shook his head. Gently, he pulled me forward, guiding me away from the wall. He adjusted my skirt, guiding it down so that it covered my bare wet pussy as well as my ass. I chewed on my lower lip, feeling unsteady, embarrassed and so out of
my depth that I couldn’t think of a single thing to do.

  “Come. It’s time for you to choose your wedding dress,” he responded curtly. He left no room for argument as he led me forward, but I didn’t have anything to say anyway. He guided me out of his bedroom and with every step, my pussy pulsed with need and a sharp stinging ache. I was horrified at the thought that I was actually grateful not to be wearing any panties, because my pussy was that sore. I stared at the back of his head.

  This man was downright diabolical.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was wet enough that he could coat my whole face with it. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hardly noticed as he led me through the suite back into his office where there was a prim-looking woman waiting by a clothing rack with her hands folded in front of her. I looked from her to Grayson, and I swallowed hard.

  I hoped my face wasn’t glistening.

  I could feel the blush rising as I thought about what she might be able to discern from the haphazard way my skirt was pulled down my waist. I tried to school my expression as much as humanly possible, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that she probably had already figured out what had happened in his bedroom.

  Would she have heard him spanking my pussy?

  She turned around and I was left to wallow in the unknown while she started unzipping the fabric encasing the clothing rack. She uncovered what looked like three dozen wedding dresses and I gasped, taking in the varying colors of lace and embroidered fabric.

  It was like he’d had a bridal shop brought here for me.

  “Every dress has been ordered in your size. I bought all of them. You just need to pick out your favorite,” he explained, and I just looked at him.

  “You bought them?” I echoed.

  “Yes,” he answered simply. “You will pick one and that will be that.”

  I scoffed and shook my head. He still thought I was just going to marry him.

  “I refuse to be your bride. Find someone else,” I spat.

  “There is no one else,” he answered, and I glared in his direction.

  “I’m not going to choose any of them. You can’t make me,” I growled. The moment the words fell off my lips, I wished I could take them back. His eyes dropped precariously fast to my pussy, and I was instantly reminded of how harsh his palm had felt when he’d punished me there. I swallowed hard and turned away, hating the way my face only heated further and gave away my shame.

  “You only have two choices, my feisty bride. You can either choose one and walk down the aisle in your dream wedding dress, or you can walk to the altar completely naked with your bright red and very well-spanked bottom on display,” he continued, and I slammed my lips together to keep myself from whimpering in response to his wretched threat. I raised my eyes to meet his, trying to figure out if he really meant that.

  His gaze was hard and entirely too serious and at once I knew he’d spoken the truth. My mouth went dry and I nodded, fully understanding that there was only really one choice for me to make here. I took a step back toward the dresses and he clicked his tongue.

  “Shame. I was looking forward to watching that soaking wet pussy get even wetter with each and every step,” he murmured, and I stared down at the floor praying that I woke up from this nightmare sometime soon.

  I tried to ignore his eyes on me as I started to look through the rack. The woman was polite, showing me the different kinds of dresses and how she organized them. There were ones in the mermaid style, some A-line, some that were skintight and scandalous, and others that were demure and sophisticated without showing a whole lot of skin. I slid the hangers and studied the dresses one by one, all while the man who just decided I was his bride watched from behind. It was really hard to focus on the dresses when he was so very close.

  Was he thinking about my naked body he watched me? Was he thinking about his fingers between my thighs? Was I making him hard?

  I tried to swallow my thoughts, but it was useless. I couldn’t ignore the needy little clit throbbing between my legs, or the way my seemingly endless arousal was dripping down my thighs once more. The woman that had brought the dresses seemed nice and she showed no sign of reading into what was happening between Grayson and me, but I worried she did anyway. For a while, I distracted myself by looking at all the beautiful designs. There was an extravagant feeling to most of them, but there was an understated elegance to a few dresses that called out to me. I had the woman hang several of my favorite ones side by side and I took a step back to really take them in.

  The first was a silky white gown embroidered with thread the color of red wine. The design started at the top of the sweetheart neckline, covered in elegant roses and as it swirled around the waist to the bottom of the dress, an explosion of color was punctuated by more roses, thorns, and rose petals that appeared to be floating on the wind.

  The next one was much more vintage in design. It was covered in cream-colored lace, but the design looked like it would hug my body in all the right places before it billowed outward at the bottom in a cloud of lace, tulle, and thick embroidered applique. The hems were lined with sparkling stones, and I stared at it for just a few seconds longer than the first.

  The third was the simplest of all. The fabric of the top half was woven together in a form of a structured corset. The skirt of the dress reminded me of a princess gown, with multiple layers of tulle edged in silk that gave it a rather elegant feel. The waist was cinched in by simple silk belt with a glittering diamond at the center. Even though it wasn’t a particularly complicated design, it was so elegantly done that I almost couldn’t tear my eyes away.

  All three were beautiful but so very different.

  I looked back at Grayson, who had seemingly busied himself with his laptop. I glanced from him to the dresses, knowing that he’d make me choose one of them before long. If I refused again, he’d probably do something to make me regret it right in front of the woman helping me. I chewed my lip. Would he bare my bottom and spank me over his knee with her still in the room?

  “Such beautiful choices, Zoe,” she murmured, running her fingers along the dresses hanging before me.

  “I didn’t catch your name,” I said softly, catching her hazel eyes with mine. I smiled, wanting to show her a bit of appreciative warmth because thus far, she’d been nothing but kind. She was probably his employee, or someone he’d paid very well to be here. If anything, she was simply doing what she was told.

  Perhaps… if she became my friend, she might be able to help me figure a way out of here. If I just bided my time and did as Grayson wanted, there would come a time where I’d be able to escape. He couldn’t keep me prisoner here in his penthouse forever, right?

  I tried not to tell myself that he probably had enough money to do exactly that.

  “My name is Clara,” she answered kindly, and her warm smile set me a little at ease.

  “It’s so hard to choose one,” I whispered, and she nodded with agreement.

  “They’re all so very beautiful,” she said, “but I think there’s one that’s perfect for you.”

  My eyes slid back to the third, taking in the curved fabric around the waist and the simple elegance behind that understated dress.

  “I think you know which one,” Clara pressed, and I took a step toward it. “You’re so very beautiful that you don’t need all the pomp and circumstance of the others. Let your beauty shine all on its own.”

  My mouth opened and closed. No one had ever said anything like that before to me and I didn’t quite know how to take it. Her compliment left me speechless, and I could do nothing but blush and smile and stumble over a few words thanking her for it. She shook her head, and her smile just grew warmer.

  “Now stand here. Put your hands on the back of your head,” she guided. I did as she asked and she measured my waist, hips, and bust as well of the length of my legs. “I’m going to make a few quick adjustments, but when I dress you later today, I will make sure that it fits you lik
e it was made for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said softly. I ran my hands along the shoulder straps, following the curve down the sweetheart neckline that would undoubtedly cup my breasts beautifully.

  “Wait. Today?” I asked.

  “Yes. Today,” Grayson echoed.

  That was far less time than I anticipated. I’d have to look for an opportunity to escape with every second. I couldn’t let a single opportunity go to waste.

  “Thank you, Clara. That is all for now. Prepare the gown of her choosing, but I expect you back here in no more than two hours,” he added, and she nodded curtly before zipping the racks closed. She moved so quickly that it couldn’t have been more than a minute before she and all the wedding dresses were gone from the room. Grayson and I were alone once again.

  I tried not to let that get to me, but it did. More than just a little bit. I took in a deep breath and turned back to him.

  “There. Are you happy? I picked one,” I murmured, feeling my frustrated agitation returning with coarse swiftness.

  “I am happy, Zoe,” he answered, closing his laptop as those dark depths rose to take me in. He searched my face and cocked his head to the side. “You will take a shower now,” he added and the way that he said it just annoyed me further.

  “You can’t just force me to be your wife. The world doesn’t work like that,” I scoffed angrily.

  He sat back, staring at me like I’d just said the most outlandish thing.

  “It does in mine, Zoe. The quicker you accept that, the easier it will be for you. Now, do as I tell you. It’s time for you to get ready,” he answered.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, my pussy pulsing with need and my mind blinding me with irritation.

  “No,” I scowled. If he’d been closer, I’d have spit in his face.

  He stood up slowly enough for me to fully regret the words that came out of my mouth. He rounded his desk, and I took several steps back, knowing that there was nowhere to run. I knew the door wouldn’t open for me unless he allowed it. I didn’t want to give into his demands though. I was a proud woman. I’d worked hard for every penny and everything I’d ever accomplished. I’d never thought about a man taking part in my life. I wasn’t ready to accept it now.