Please proceed with caution! This chapter can be very disturbing for some readers. Honestly, it is disturbing to me and I'm the one who wrote it. When I was writing this in Isabelle's POV it was describing pure emotion, but with Sebastian all there is to write about is anger, cruelty and mind games. I feel so sad and emotionally drained. :( :'
I did my best to do his character justice in this chapter, but it is hard. I swear no other chapter will be even as slightly messed up as this one. Also, I have published chapter eight along with this one because I think it's better if they are read together.
Please, give me your most honest reaction. I will truly appreciate it.
PS. The new version of Virtue&Vanity is published on Wattpad so check it out if you are curious.
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The moment we entered the lobby, the staff jumped on their feet and started their ridiculous routine of sucking up to a rich guest. They even went as far as congratulating me for getting married and I knew the whole show was Father's doing. Coming to that hotel had been a mistake and I had no idea what the hell I was doing there. All I knew was that something dark and dangerous snapped inside of me and I couldn't bring myself to take her home. Not yet.
Ignoring the receptionist's kind smiles and wishes as she was handing me the key, I kept a cold expression on my face and walked to my new wife who stood a few feet away, looking like she was taken aback by both the interior and people around her. She seemed confused when I asked her to follow me to the elevator, but my censuring gaze warned her not to push me by asking stupid questions. It took a split second for her to obey me, but it was enough to enhance my annoyance and when the elevator door opened I gave her a firm push inside because I was done with her ridiculous behavior.
The honeymoon suite was at the top floor and we were the only two people in the elevator. Being alone with her in that tight space made her the sole focus of my animosity that I was so tempted to unleash. Instead of giving in to this animalistic urge that pushed me to give in to my rage, I clenched my fists and tried to pretend she wasn't there. The moment the elevator stopped, I let out a breath of relief and told her to walk. I was aware she wasn't able to keep up with my fast pace, but I didn't give a damn. I unlocked the door and then waited for her without bothering to hide my irritation.
Head bent down, she slowly walked inside and my eyes fell on the small of her back and lingered there as she entered further. I had found myself staring for a few more moments and then, I followed after her, my eyes still glued to a cascade of long blonde hair that fell down her back. She came to stand in the center of the room and I approached her as she took her time to observe the luxurious space that was furnished with romantic touches such as flower arrangements and champagne that was served in a bucket of ice on the side table in the corner. The warm shaded lighting set up an inviting scene for couples to make love and it was beyond fucking ironic. The fury that ruled my system told me I should make her face me, but I didn't move an inch. Instead, I kept staring at that silky hair, inhaling a scent that reminded me of a garden in late spring out of all fucking things. Without even realizing it, I was coming closer. Suddenly, she stepped away and her back collided with my chest. I could feel my cock twitch in response to her closeness and if she hadn't jerked herself away from me, I'd have pulled her tighter against me.
Slowly, she turned to face me and her eyes glistened with building realization. I was aware of the fact that I stared at her like a wolf ready to claim his prey and extort his need for dominance, but I did nothing to control my unexpected response. Suddenly, the idea of claiming her on our wedding night didn't seem as appalling. It somehow offered a much needed distraction and it fed the furious beast that took hold of my soul.
As if she could read my mind, she started moving away towards the bathroom door, but I caught her elbow in a reflex, halting her movement. Her gaze remained frozen on my hand that held her immobile and I reached out to lift her head and make her look at me again. Her eyes resembled those of a frightened animal that was trapped in a cage where it could not escape the approaching danger. It won't help you, baby girl. Now you're mine whether you like it or not.
"You have five minutes," I said in a cold demanding tone, letting go of her elbow.
I watched as she practically ran to the bathroom and I couldn't contain a mocking smirk that twisted my lips. The little gold digger could run as much as she liked, but there was no place where she could hide.
Looking around the room, my eyes fell on the piano that was standing in the corner. I had lost count of how many nights I'd spent playing Beethoven's Symphony No 7 in these past three weeks. Apart from working, it was the only thing that helped me cope with the reality of being forced to marry a stranger and it offered the temporary feeling of relief, cleansing some of my negative energy. The fresh image of long golden locks sprang to my mind and I found myself thinking that tonight, there was a different source of comfort at the reach of my hand...
Suddenly, it was getting hot and I took off my jacket and loosened my tie before walking over to the mini bar and taking out a bottle of whiskey. I ignored the champagne that had been prepared for us by the staff because I wasn't in the mood for romance and I certainly didn't want her to get the wrong message. What I needed was a drink and a good hard fuck with no feelings involved. Father had a good point that I had failed to understand until up until this moment. I had already bitten the bullet and married her so why not make the most of my situation. Her mother had insinuated her daughter was more than experienced when it came to pleasing men and I definitely needed to get some steam out of my system.
Finding two glasses, I took a seat at the nearby baroque table and waited for my bride to join me. Though she was gone for far longer than five minutes, I didn't feel tempted to go after her. Instead, I filled my glass with whiskey and drank with gusto, allowing myself to sink into a drunken stupor as I waited for the blonde temptress to reappear in the room.
Few more minutes passed before the bathroom door opened and she made a step inside the room and then remained lingering at the door, observing the scene she encountered. The space started filling with suffocating tension as my eyes lingered on her face and then slowly fell to her naked shoulders and the exposed swell of her breast. Some kind of a silent awareness started building between us and she shrank away like she was bothered by my attention. I could tell I was already pretty close to being drunk and a small part of me understood her hesitant demeanor. Given the uncontrollable fury I had let her witness on more than one occasion, she must have feared I would beat her or do some perverted shit, but the only thing I intended was to have her sprawled on that bed, naked and ready to demonstrate all of her conniving hidden tricks. I had even regained enough patience not to pounce on her immediately. It was much more entertaining to take it slowly and to show her I was the one in charge now that we were married.
"Come here," I said calmly, but when she failed to comply, I raised my voice, making it clear that if she made me come and get her, she would regret it. "Come."
Realizing she had no choice, she took slow measured steps towards the table and sat across from me. I handed her an empty glass and then filled it with a generous amount of whiskey.
"It's time we celebrate properly, don't you think? Congratulations, Mrs. Everett," I said with a healthy dose of sarcasm and raised my glass.
Staring at me with those wide brown eyes, she raised her glass as well, but instantly put it down. When I arched my eyebrows, she said quietly, "I... I don't drink alcohol."
Was she fucking serious? I had to suppress the need to burst out laughing. This game was getting old and boring.
"Oh, I see. It probably goes against your high moral values," I said with a hint of accusation and then, my voice turned venomous. "You don't have to put on a show for me. I have already married you, haven't I?"
She held my gaze, but didn't utter a sound or made a move to take the glass.
"Drink," I bit out in a flat tone.
Still, there was no answer and no reaction. The look on her face told me she thought ignoring me would help her case, but she was about to be disillusioned about her options. Where my demands were concerned, she had no other option but to obey.
"Drink!" I raised my voice, feeling the cloud of darkness settle in my eyes.
For a split second, she seemed to have considered what she would do and then, her eyes flashed in recognition that there was no other choice but to appease to my whishes. Trying to keep an indifferent look on her face and failing at it miserably, she brought the glass to her lips. Our eyes were locked together and I witnessed her growing sense of defeat. That's it, baby girl. Drink. She took a small sip and made a grimace like she didn't like it.
"More," I ordered firmly.
Taking in a deep breath, she swallowed some more and made that same expression of disgust that irritated me. Then her eyes turned pleading, but she was wasting her time. I was making a point, and I would not go easy on her.
"All of it." I couldn't help but smirk as I saw the shocked look on her face.
I stared at her unapologetically. You are the one who wanted to get married. Now you have to fucking handle it. There was a flicker of defiance in her eyes that I found amusing as she went on to gulp the entire content of the glass, but once again she had made a fool out of herself and ended up spitting everything on the floor. Glancing at me with visible apprehension, she stood up and looked towards the wet stain on the carpet. I followed in sync, getting up and walking to her, demanding her complete and undivided attention as I was ready to stop playing and move on to more serious things. She swallowed like she sensed the shift in atmosphere and I could feel her slight quivering as I reached out to touch her chin and make her look at me. It was our wedding night and my little bride stared at me like I was about to swallow her alive. The fact made me sneer in a sort of an ironic humorless amusement.
"Are you afraid?" I asked in a voice that dripped with coldness, letting her know that I didn't care either way.
I could feel her shivering deepen as she nodded and I saw a glimmer of unshed tears in those eyes, but it didn't stop me from tormenting her further.
"Good. You should fear me," I said in a composed, matter-of-fact tone.
There was no reply; not one fucking word. Instead, she made a soft sniveling sound and my eyes froze on a tear that escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheek, leaving a wet trail on her skin. The rest of the tears followed in an endless stream and for a moment, I was struck by the sight of her sad and crushed face. This voice in my head appeared out of nowhere and suddenly demanded me to acknowledge this open sign of weakness and to reconsider what I was doing. But then, another voice that was by far stronger and more demanding than the first one pushed me to remember all of the events that had consequently led us to this evening and those words still echoed in my head...Isabelle is not damaged like Cora...she'll be the best you've ever had. It was enough to make me think of the promise I had made to myself when I took my vows and the bitter resentment reclaimed my system. No mercy. No softness.
"Do you remember what I told you about crying?" I asked in a voice that was devoid of any warmth and compassion.
The words got through to her and her mind went distant. I imagined she was remembering the time she burst out crying that day at my parent's house. It didn't help her then and it wouldn't help her now. She nodded like she could read my thoughts and closed her eyes, taking in a few deep breaths until the tears subsided. Her eyes opened and looked straight into mine. I lowered my gaze to the edge of her eyelids that were swollen and smeared with black ruined mascara. Then, reminding myself once again that this was a woman who trapped me into marriage, I leaned so close that I possessed all of the space around her. The proof of her restlessness was instant and clear for me to see, but her feelings didn't matter. All that mattered was the anger that burned inside of me like a volcano ready to explode into an outburst of fiery revenge.
"Take off your dress," I said in a deep, raspy voice and I saw the glimmer of tears returning to her eyes, but I wasn't having it. "Stop crying. You're acting like a child."
"Please..." she said in that small voice, looking at me with transparent pleading in her eyes. "Please, don't do this."
Her attempt to talk me out of claiming what she had agreed to give from the moment she started demanding this marriage left me cold and indifferent.
"Why not? Isn't that what you were raised to do? To be a perfect wife?" I taunted her with her mother's own words. "I'm sure you know what a wife's duty is on her wedding night!"
There was no answer, but she took a hesitant step back when I leaned closer. Determination was engraved in my expression as I continued advancing towards her and she kept on backing away until her back hit the wall and she had nowhere to go. Taking a few shallow breaths, she slowly lifted her gaze.
"I don't know how to be a w-wife."
"Well, then it's time you learn." I was starting to get irritated and for the last time, I repeated my demand in a hard commanding voice. "Take. Off. The. Dress. Don't make me say it again."
"I can't," she stammered and still made no move to obey me.
"You can't?" I shook my head and looked at her in furious disbelief, laying out the law of how things would be between us. "Isabelle, it's simple. I am your husband. That means I have rights." If it were possible, those brown eyes widened even more. "Starting tonight, you have obligations as my wife, and nothing in this universe will save you from fulfilling them. Do I make myself clear?"
Again, there was no reply and I was done with having this discussion. If she thought she could outsmart us by putting her name on that contract and then proceed to deny being intimate with me, she had another thing coming.
"Do I make myself clear?" I raised my voice, leaning above her in a quick abrupt movement to assert my control and dominance.
She winced, but didn't try to move away from me.
"Y-yes," she stuttered, her eyes filling with tears that meant nothing to me.
"Good. So you understand that if I tell you to take off the dress, you take off the fucking dress."
The annoyance and fury that dripped from my voice seemed to have gotten to her because she let out what I imagined was a sigh of surrender and reached to her side to unzip her dress. Then, I watched as the white silky fabric slowly slid down her body until it fell to the floor, leaving her vanilla skin exposed to my gaze. The only thing that separated her from nakedness was the matching white lace underwear that left very little to imagination. Still, I heard myself swallow with the need to know what was hidden underneath it and I asked her to take it off as well. There was a flash of surprise in her eyes, but she didn't object to my demand and—after a few moments of dealing with her hesitation and clumsiness—she stood in front of me...completely naked. Acting like she was ashamed of me, she started wrapping her arms around herself and shrinking away, but I wasn't allowing anymore defiance and I was done playing games.
"Stop acting ridiculous. Put your hands down," I spat out in a voice that demanded instant obedience.
The moment she lowered her arms to her side and exposed her body to me, I swallowed hard and let my eyes roam her length. Fuck. The little gold digger was stunning and I couldn't stop staring. With those firm breasts, narrow waist and slim long legs she was every man's fantasy and no matter how much I hated to admit it, I found myself responding to her appeal.
"What a hot little thing you are," I heard myself say as I felt a powerful surge of desire, but it was not enough to clench my anger. "Such a pity you have yet to learn that crossing men like me could be very dangerous."
Unable to resist anymore, I started unbuttoning my own shirt and I wanted her eyes trained on me as I was doing it.
"Look at me," I murmured when she distracted her gaze.
Her eyes fell on my chest and I was astounded by her devotion to pretend like she was inexperienced in sex. The way she stared at me made me consider that she had never seen a shirtless man in her life, but I pushed the thought away, blaming it on whiskey that made me see things that weren't there. Instead, driven by this strange need to bury myself inside her, I leaned so close that we were almost skin to skin and I whispered in her ear, making it clear what was about to happen.
"It's time to make this fucking charade of a wedding officially complete."
Leaning back to look at her, I saw those tears in her eyes again. One of them rolled down her face and it only managed to feed my fury. Why the fuck was she crying? If she didn't want this, she should have taken the opportunity I'd given her at the altar and leave. As far as I was concerned, now that she was my wife and we were bound by that contract, there was no space for pleading and regret. Wanting to prove a point, I reached out to trace the wetness that glistened on her cheek. The moment I touched her, she flinched like she expected me to hit her and she seemed surprised by my action. I held her gaze, wanting her to know this wasn't about comfort or tenderness.
"No more tears, Isabelle. It's too late for that," I said in a quiet and calm voice, but with enough determination for her to know her tears were useless in this predicament.
She seemed to have considered my words and then her face settled into an even more miserable expression.
"I... I don't even know you."
The frustration I felt had multiplied by a dozen in a matter of a second. Where the hell was she going with this nonsense? Did she truly need me to remind her who tricked who into this sham of a marriage?
I let out a harsh breath and smirked at her audacity. "So? That didn't seem to bother you when you said ‛I do'. Besides, you knew what we would have to do tonight in order to make this marriage serve its purpose, so stop trying my patience because I don't have much left."
The warning in my eyes must have been pretty evident because she didn't make another sound and there were no more tears. Good. There had been enough talking and enough postponing of the inevitable. Shyness wasn't one of my virtues and I wasn't about to pretend. Without any warning and further discussions, I unzipped my pants and took them off, exposing myself to Isabelle. Her gaze flew to the door but she quickly lowered her head and stared at the ground instead, hiding from me. Not a fucking chance. Lifting up her chin, I forced her to look at me again. I found it almost amusing how she kept staring at my face, not lowering her eyes for even a moment despite the obvious curiosity in her expression.
Unlike her, I wouldn't hold back. While I felt my own body react with want, I let my hand slide down her neck and past her breast until it fell all the way to her lower stomach. She flinched like she was unprepared for what my touch would make her feel and her face flushed like a hot furnace. Her reaction left me perplexed and I concluded she was very responsive...just like her mother said she would be. The innocent vixen expression she held as crimson red spread along her cheeks made my cock pulse in a surge of excitement that rushed through my veins and I couldn't wait any longer. I grunted and pressed my lips against her ear.
"I want to see where else I can make you blush. Now be a good girl and lay down on the bed."
There was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, but my firm gaze was enough to extort her submissiveness. Taking a small shallow breath, she walked towards the bed and lay on her back, closing her eyes and clenching her legs together.
"No. Turn around," I ordered because I didn't want to make it personal.
Whenever we fucked, it would be from behind because I had no interest to look at her face. I didn't care if she'd enjoy it or even if her mind would be present. Her eyes sprang open, but she didn't look at me or make any further protests. Instead, she did as she was told and she turned to lie on her stomach. Without taking my eyes off of her, I approached the bed and suddenly felt tempted to give in to this crazy need to touch her body and find out just how responsive she was. Just this once...I said to myself as I reached out to touch her. She didn't make a sound when my hand connected with the soft skin on her back and she didn't stir when it went lower though I could feel her quivering. The second I touched the sensitive spot between her thighs every muscle in her body tensed. I didn't know why, but I found myself caressing her back with my other hand as I kept massaging the bundle of nerves between her legs. Slowly, I could feel her body relax and she was getting soaking wet. So fucking sensitive. The curiosity I could not contain made me want to do some more exploring and I lowered my hand down her folds, inserting a finger in her slick warmth. The moment I penetrated her with the tip of my finger, she jerked like the action startled her and caused her discomfort, but—certain it was all a part of a well thought-out act—I ignored her and just kept going. In the moments that followed, I got a confirmation that I was right because her tight opening was clenching around my finger and I could feel her breathing deepen no matter how much she tried to hide it from me.
Her soft muffled moans turned me on beyond the point of endurance and I was about to explode. Ready to claim her with my cock, I removed my finger and reached for my jacket to get a condom I always carried in my inner pocket. Even though I was almost certain Father and Rosario had taken care of making sure she was clean, I wouldn't take that chance until they confirmed it. After finishing the unpleasant task of ripping the foil and putting on the condom, I climbed on the bed and covered her body with mine. Then, I started parting her thighs so that I could settle between them, but she clenched her legs tightly together and wouldn't cooperate. Her action infuriated me to no end and I let anger drip from my voice as my lips neared her ear.
"Spread your legs and let me fuck you already."
I had employed no further force, but waited for her to comply like I had all the time in the world. Slowly, she started breathing deeper and deeper yet as her legs parted to accommodate me. My mind was getting blurred with desire and I pushed my hips forward, leaning against her entrance when I heard the words that were spoken in such a quiet voice I'd almost missed them.
"I...I can't."
In any other situation, I would have honored the request, but in my mind this was different. The time for second thoughts had passed the moment she signed that contract and asserted herself as my wife, knowing she went against my wishes. And denying her body when she had been so determined to sell it made her sink even lower in my eyes. No mercy.
"You can and you will," I whispered in a whole new attack of fury. "What did you think? That you could play wife to me? This is what you signed up for, baby girl."
Giving in to the feeling of maddening rage she had once again managed to awaken inside of me, I drove into her with one hard thrust and I could have sworn there was a sensation of ripping through some kind of a resistance. Her back arched and she moaned like she was in pain. I remained perfectly still, with my cock buried all the way inside of her. It took all of my self-control not to move because she was so tight...too fucking tight and the sensation was unbearable. Somewhere in my hazy mind, there was a fleeting thought that I had just taken her virginity in such a merciless way, but it disappeared as soon as it appeared. She wasn't a virgin. She couldn't have been. It was all that whiskey I drank that made my mind play tricks on me.
Refusing to analyze these thoughts further, I settled my entire weight on her and surrendered to the urge to move. As my chest covered her back, I focused on the feeling of her body against mine and buried my head in her hair, inhaling that scent of spring again that sent my senses into an overload of pleasure. Our sweaty skin was glued together and I was running out of breath as I kept on thrusting harder and faster. At last, I stilled inside of her, claimed by what felt like a never-ending surge of release. Exhausted, I collapsed on her back and continued inhaling that inviting flowery scent.
While it took a long while for my deep breathing to return to normal, Isabelle didn't stir and she remained silent. Had it not been for that shivering that I still felt beneath me, I would have thought she had passed out. Then, I heard her whimper so softly the sound almost escaped me.
Suddenly, I was struck by an inexplicable feeling of loss and coldness. I didn't know what it was that I lost, but I could feel the pressure of missing it in my chest. The rage I felt was gone, but there was no relief. Quite the opposite, the darkness seemed to have settled even deeper inside of me and I couldn't explain the sudden need to scrape that scent of spring off of my skin because now it burned me. Eager to escape this strange surge of emotions that were starting to build inside of me, I pulled out and she let out a small moan, shuddering as I let go of her. Diverting my eyes, I quickly got up and walked to the bathroom. The first thing I saw when I looked down was dark red blood that was smeared all over my thighs and cock. The pressure in my chest expanded and something exploded around my heart, causing the actual physical pain I had never experienced before that day.