Taken as His Wife Read online

  That wasn’t fair for him. He did nothing wrong. It was my own hesitance that scared me, not my handsome, princely Adam.

  The dress unbuttoned from my shoulders down low, nearly to my bottom. I almost hated to take it off. The material glided over my skin. A beautiful dress. A gift from Adam. Like everything else.

  “Perfect.” Adam kissed where the first three buttons revealed my creamy skin.

  He didn’t want me to tan for the wedding. He liked me pale. He said it was youthful. Innocent. Now I understood why he preferred me that way.

  The buttons exposed more and more of my back. I flushed as my strapless bra touched the air. I preferred to be practical, but the lingerie looked so beautiful at the store. The dress slipped from my shoulders to the floor, and the second part of the set revealed to Adam. Delicate white panties. Thin and sheer with the lovely white garter fixing snowy stockings to my legs. When I put it on in the morning, I thought I looked perfect. Like a sexy woman. It was the first time I ever felt that way.

  Now, I wasn’t so sure. Presented to his eyes, my confidence shattered. The sexy woman evaporated, replaced by a fidgeting, trembling girl.

  The dress bunched at my feet. I bent to retrieve it, but Adam’s hand latched onto my wrist. His grip tightened. My muscles raked across my frame. It wouldn’t take much to hurt me. I didn’t even stand to his shoulders, and he had easily a hundred pounds on me. He possessed a pure, hard-wrought strength born from the gym.

  But I knew I was safe. I never had cause to worry. Adam was gentle and kind. He loved me.

  So I went still, if only to prove his devotion to myself.

  “That’s better,” he said. “Feel more comfortable?”

  I nodded. His eyes traced over the lingerie.

  “For me?” He asked.

  “I hoped you’d like it.”

  “I do.” He removed his tux jacket, tossing it onto the loveseat. His hands moved to the buttons at his collar. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And you’re all mine.”

  I hesitated, bouncing my weight from one leg to the other. “I should change.”

  “Why?”

  “I really want to go to bed.”

  The buttons came undone, and he slipped the material from his shoulders. He really was all muscle. The times I had hugged him, touched him while we shared a few kisses, did nothing to show the true definition of his pecs and abs. He was the beautiful one. A man in peak physical form.

  I didn’t know what made me nervous. He was a man. I was a woman. I fell in love with him the first time I saw him, and now, he belonged to me. He became the one person the law and every code of morals allowed me to want and have as my own.

  My eyes drifted down, settling on the budge in Adam’s slacks. A thick, noticeable bump he didn’t attempt to disguise.

  We wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

  “Charlotte.” Adam’s voice pickled the goose bumps on my skin. “Our relationship has changed. I think you know that.”

  He stood close. His aftershave—the clean, wholesome scent I came to love—washed over me. I wished it eased my anxiety. Instead, the pit in my stomach grew, howling deep and sucking in a darkness I wished I hadn’t imagined. He lifted my chin, tasting my lips again with his. I did love his kisses. Always did. My body responded, enjoying the warmth and softness of his lips against mine.

  “You are a sweet girl,” he said. “That’s what I love about you. But you are a girl still. Very young.” He stared at me, his dark eyes boring through me. “I know you can handle what I need from you. What I’ll expect from you as my wife.”

  I stared forward, studying the tense muscle straining between his neck and shoulder.

  “What do you expect?”

  “A happy, loving wife.” He kissed the top of my head, drawing me into his arms. “One who will respect me as her husband. I made a vow to you today. I love you. You will never want again. I will give you a home, cars, clothing, jewelry. Everything.”

  “I know,” I said. The fifty thousand dollar ring on my finger proved his devotion. “But—”

  “I’m not finished.”

  My stilled.

  “In return, you must understand I am your husband, and I will head this marriage.”

  “I do understand that.”

  “Good,” he said. “But I want you to prove it.”

  “How?”

  “Lay on the bed, Charlotte.”

  The nerves were back, casting shivers over my body. “Adam, please. I’m so tired—”

  “On the bed.”

  I didn’t move. Not at first. Not until Adam stepped forward. Then my legs moved for me, shuffling backwards, away from my husband. The back of my knees touched the bed. Adam followed. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and I knew what he wanted.

  Slowly, with trembling hands hidden in my lap, I sat down.

  “No,” Adam said. “Lay back. I want you comfortable.”

  Lying back was anything but comfortable. I didn’t just tremble. I shook. Every part of me a quivering mess of goose bumps. I did as I was told, falling back against the dark comforter, my lingerie a stark white against the material. Adam stood before me, unbuckling his belt and tossing it onto my discarded dress.

  “I love you, Charlotte.” His voice softened, but his expression didn’t. “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

  “O—okay.”

  “I’m your husband. Not a stranger. You are my everything, and now I will make you my wife.”

  He knelt on the bed, dropping beside me. The back of his hand stroked from my cheek down, over my throat, the swell of my breast, the hollow of my stomach. His fingers brushed my panties, but pulled away before falling any lower.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said. “Do you know what you do to me?”

  My eyes drifted down to his slacks. He nodded.

  “I want you. And I’m going to take you now.”

  My voice quivered. “But I’m afraid.”

  “All girls are afraid their first time.” He leaned down, brushing my lips in a sweet kiss. “But it’s your duty now. We are married, and sex is my right. I promise, you’ll enjoy it.”

  He kissed me again, his tongue flicking past my lips and into my mouth. He stroked my tongue with his—something we had done in the past but ended because of the warmth that pooled between my legs and the cloudiness in my mind. The warmth swelled with his touch, his lips murmuring gentle promises against mine. I liked it, but a flutter of worry remained. I wished it would go away.

  I brought my hands up, pushing gently against his chest. Adam sighed. His jaw set, the muscles clenching as I shrugged under him.

  “I’m not sure I want to do this now,” I whispered. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

  “What doesn’t feel right?”

  “I don’t know. I just...I’m nervous. And kind of uncomfortable. Can we stop?”

  Adam brushed my hair away from my face. He kissed my forehead as he closed his eyes. I savored his silence, as though he realized what was happening and how I felt. My knight-in-shining armor, banishing my fears.

  “No, Charlotte.”

  My world buzzed like the champagne from the party finally overwhelmed me. I moved, but Adam forced me back onto the bed, a hand on my stomach. I went still, my fingers digging into the comforter.

  “I’ve been patient,” he said. “More patient with you than I thought was necessary. I understand you are afraid. It’s natural for a virgin to be nervous. But it has to stop. This is our wedding night.”

  “But—”

  Adam moved between my legs. My hips absently moved, instinctually making room for him. That felt normal. Something my body prepared me for and knew was what needed to be done. But my head didn’t want to listen. Adam sat back on his legs, sighing. He reached for my bra.

  “It will take time for you to become comfortable. I understand. I’m demanding of you, and you are inexperienced. But this is something I absolutely will not compromise
.”

  I couldn’t move. He tugged on the bra, pulling the material from my body with an unceremonious flip over his shoulder. I reflexively covered myself, but he batted my hands away.

  The cold air chilled my breasts, hardening my nipples into tiny peaks. I had little to offer Adam, but he never once seemed to mind. His eyes lingered over my body. The bulge in his pants didn’t falter, and he smirked. I assumed he liked what he saw.

  “Sex is primal,” Adam said. “It is something shared between two people, but the act is more than romance. I am a man, and you are my bride. I will go to you for specific needs.” His eyes darkened, harder than I remembered them appearing. “It is your place to submit to me.”

  “Submit?” I took a breath. “Do...we need a safe word?”

  He laughed. “Not that kind of submission, princess. This is a marriage now, not a game. This submission will feel natural. You are meant to give it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Adam’s fingers reached for me, brushing the soft underside of my breast. I swallowed. The touch wasn’t unpleasant, but it was no caress.

  “I’m going to show you want I mean. Don’t be frightened. I do this because I love you. You know that, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you love me too?”

  I nodded.

  “Say it, Charlotte.”

  I licked my lips. “I love you.”

  “Then trust me.”

  I trusted him, but he reached for my panties. I didn’t want to watch. Adam whispered my name. He raised my legs up, holding my ankles over one shoulder as he tucked his thumbs in the elastic and pulled my panties over my hips. To my knees. Past my ankles.

  The slip of material fell to the bed beside me, my last vestige of modesty. Adam smiled.

  “Let me see my virgin bride,” he said.

  I blushed, turning my head away as he slowly spread my legs, exposing the secret slit. Mary Beth said men expected the area to be smooth. That was never a problem. My hair was fine, and what little existed I trimmed in the two hours it took for me to work up the courage to look at myself down there. Adam breathed deep, sighing as he examined me.

  Still, only a doctor ever looked at me so closely before, and I nearly died of shame on the examining table before she could write the prescription for my contraception. I held my breath.

  “You’re beautiful, Charlotte. So very delicate. So soft.”

  My fear eased with his praise. His hand brushed the few curls on my mound. Then his fingers drifted lower. His index finger traced my slit, poking through the folds until he hit a spot so sensitive I flinched, nearly bucking him away.

  “Easy, princess,” he teased. “Have you ever touched yourself there before?”

  I didn’t want to answer. I had, once. In the shower after a night with him. But what I did only ended in frustration and shame. What he did made me dizzy. I didn’t know if I could handle such a thing. I brought my hands up, but he pushed them away.

  “I will touch you here whenever I like.” Adam’s voice grated with a reprimand. “Do you understand?”

  I gasped. I had no idea what was happening. Whatever he did created a wave of pleasure in my body, but my mind hadn’t caught up yet. To the space between my legs, his fingers wove a subtle magic over me. To my head, it was invasive. A terrible touch, one that would have broken me had it been anyone but Adam doing it.

  “Charlotte, do you understand? You cannot hide your body from your husband.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good.” He watched as my shivers turned to a solid shudder. His circles pressed harder, more intense, and my breathing lengthened. “This is how I give you pleasure. This is how women orgasm. And I will make you orgasm, Charlotte. Many, many times. Your body belongs to your husband, and so does your pleasure.”

  The circles stopped, and I whimpered. Adam paid no attention. His focus drifted a little lower, to the entrance of my slit.

  “You’re wet for me.”

  I didn’t speak. His finger rubbed over the area, and my softness led his motions back to that little entrance.

  “Do you know what it means when you’re wet?” Adam asked. “It means your body understands what I want. It’s ready for me to take you.”

  His finger slipped inside, slowly. I shimmied away, but his other hand spread over my tummy, holding me down.

  “Stay still, Charlotte. I want to feel it.”

  I spread for him, but his finger felt huge within me. “Feel...what?”

  “Your hymen. Your virginity.” Adam’s finger pressed deeper inside me, pinching against a place I never before touched. I jerked, but his finger rubbed something inside of me. “There it is. My sweet little Charlotte. There is your wedding present to me.”

  I wished the sensation wasn’t so weird. Not painful, but not the pleasant, warm feeling everyone said it’d feel like. His finger scraped along the inside of me, tracing the little fleshy bit of skin I worked so hard to save and honor.

  I didn’t know how to act. I dug into the blankets, biting my lip to prevent any sound from escaping. I was aroused by his attention. I guessed. I didn’t know if I should be turned on. Wasn’t this what every bride wanted—her husband praising her body and willingness? He touched me in places he hadn’t before. My body reacted, and he enjoyed it. I needed to stop overthinking it. We would both enjoy this. He promised.

  I gripped the bed as he tested the barrier inside me. His finger pushed, and my insides stung.

  “Poor thing,” Adam murmured. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with you. You are so precious to me, I don’t want to hurt you any more than it already will.”

  “Please,” I whispered. His finger stroked inside me, pressing in and out as far as the barrier would allow. I fidgeted against the bed. “Can we...I just want to take it slow.”

  “No more arguments.” Adam didn’t look up. His eyes studied every part of me, every part of the slit between my legs grasping his finger. He fixated on it, his jaw set with a grim determination. “I’m going to prepare you for me.”

  “P-prepare?”

  He shifted from the bed, lowering himself between my legs. I tensed as his face drew within inches of my slit.

  “You are my bride.” Adam spread my legs and leaned in, his breath hot against my entrance. “Don’t be ashamed.”

  He kissed me there. I made a muffled whimper. I wasn’t ashamed, but I wanted nothing more than to shut my legs and crawl away. I just didn’t know why. His tongue flicked at me, leisurely licking slit from bottom to top. His lips curled over my clit, and he suckled. My body shuddered and wracked with a bizarre pleasure, disconnected from how I actually felt. I knew men kissed women there. But I also thought it was supposed to be a romantic, loving caress. A husband drawing his wife to orgasm through the strength of his kisses alone.

  Instead, I felt dirty. The pleasure only addled my confused mind. He licked me, savoring my taste with muffled grunts. His mouth worked wonders, and my insides warmed. Still I flinched, but I blamed the fatigue. Adam was tending to my needs. Deliberately satisfying me so I wouldn’t be frightened of what was to come.

  I whimpered. I wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it.

  “You taste sweet, Charlotte.” He nibbled on my clit. My insides rolled, clenching on nothing and instinctively wanting something. “You like this.”

  I didn’t answer. That displeased him.

  “Charlotte,” he warned. “Don’t play coy. I taste your cream. I’m feel you tremble. You are enjoying this. As you should. Tell me that you enjoy it.”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  Adam huffed. He drew his finger over my pussy, inserting again until it struck my hymen. Harder this time. I winced. He withdrew and brought his finger to my lips.

  “Taste yourself.”

  My eyes widened. I didn’t know what to do. Adam’s eyes narrowed on me. I recognized the look. Impatience. Frustration. Anger.

  Oh, I didn’t want him to be any of thos
e things on our wedding night. We hadn’t been married for more than six hours and already he was upset. And why shouldn’t he be? I was nothing but a bundle of nerves, panicked and too selfish to overlook my hesitance to tend to him.

  I opened my mouth. He smiled as I sucked the sweetness from his finger. Something I never, ever did before, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

  “Taste that?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s your cream, Charlotte. You’re aroused. You want this. You want me.”

  “I’ve always wanted you.”

  Adam inhaled, the muscles on his chest flexing. “Good. Now you’re going to have me.”

  He stood, his hand moving to his slacks. This was it. While heat pooled between my legs, a lingering fear crawled my spine, grasping hand over hand until it possessed my body and mind. I stilled, twisting my knees to try and hide my exposed slit, wetted by his mouth and my own lust. Adam moved methodically, pulling the zipper down, each click echoing in my head. He kicked the slacks away, standing before me silken black boxers. Without the slacks, the front of the boxers tented with his erection. What might have thrilled me once now terrified me. The boxers pulled down.

  The shaft between his legs throbbed, hard and aching. I never knew what to call it before, or how I’d refer to it with my new husband. Now I knew. Cock. A man of his size would never call it anything else. Thick as my wrist and longer than I could possibly fit, his cock pulsed as he took it in his hand. He flexed it, tugging on the shaft to make it harder. Longer. I released a quaking breath.

  “What’s wrong, Charlotte?” Adam returned to the bed, settling between my legs. “You’ve never seen me before?”

  I nodded.

  “Don’t be frightened. You’re my wife. You will take all of me.”

  “How?”

  Adam’s smile was once a well-earned right, something I aspired to cause. I didn’t want this smile.

  “I’ll make my cock fit.”

  His hand never stopped rubbing his shaft. He slapped it against my body, against the mound of my pussy. The impossible length seemed to stretch to my stomach. His hands wound under my body, holding my bottom and adjusting my hips so I presented my slit easier to him. He petted the pure white stockings over my legs, savoring the softness with a hiss.