Rather than take the kiss he wanted, he brushed his lips against hers, being gentle, which wasn’t part of his repertoire. The church was silent until he turned to face them, then an echoing round of applause began.
Bella was now his wife.
Leading her out of the church, he tolerated the standard bullshit of taking pictures. This wasn’t a day he wanted her to remember. Each time the photographer requested she smile, it was like another hit he intended to unload on her father.
Finally, when he couldn’t take the crap anymore, he led her to the car, ignoring the complaints from the guests.
He opened the door and helped her, shoving the layers of tulle inside. Her dress was billowy and had a great deal of crinoline underneath. She looked stunning as it showcased her huge tits. The mounds pressed against the front, begging to be touched.
Klaus sat beside her, watching her hands shake involuntarily. Only now, she wore his ring. Things were going to change.
Covering her hand with his, he gripped her tightly. “No one will ever hurt you again.”
“It was a lovely wedding,” she said. Isabella was a master of diversion, but he wasn’t falling for it.
“The eye?”
“It’s nothing. I fell.”
Klaus gripped her chin, not too tightly as to hurt her, but firm enough to warn her not to fuck with him. “Do not lie to me. There’s a lot of shit I’ll put up with, but lies are not one of them. Don’t try to test me on this.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t … please.”
“Tell me.”
“I…” The tear escaped and he waited. “My father. He was angry with me. We were watched at the restaurant. I’m not allowed to eat dessert. This was my punishment. I earned it.”
He captured her tears, wiping them down his pants. Klaus would have rather licked them off her face, but with the amount of makeup she wore, he’d only have tasted the cosmetics.
“Your father will never touch you again, Bella. You’re mine now.”
“He’s still my father.”
“And I’ve told you what will happen. I’ll protect you. Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again.”
Lastra had bruised his wife. There would be consequences.
He carefully removed the veil from her head. It took some finesse with all the pins in her hair. Slowly, being careful not to hurt her, going against his nature of that of a monster, he released her hair, running his fingers through it. He loved it long and loose. “Beautiful. You’ll do everything to please me, Bella. Only me. I will give you the world if you’ll only let me.”
“I’m not very good at all of this.”
“I don’t care. I don’t need a robot, nor do I want one.” He kissed her hard, gripping the back of her neck. Sliding his tongue across her lips, he plundered inside as she gasped. Perfection. His beautiful virgin bride was highly addictive.
Her hands went to his chest and he expected her to throw him off her, but instead, she gripped his shirt even tighter.
Stroking her cheek, he smiled. “Mine.”
****
Mine.
The word kept echoing around her head.
She’d never belonged to anyone else before. Never thought it possible.
Isabella’s lips tingled from his kisses, and her head felt so much lighter with him removing that damn veil and the sharp pins. Her mother had spent so much time trying to get her hair trapped beneath the veil, and it was anything but a pleasant experience.
Now that her hair hung down and her lips were swollen, she felt … better. There was an answering tingle between her thighs from his touch.
The drive was quick since they’d planned the lodgings near the church. Once they got to the hotel where the main reception was being held, she was surprised to see some guests had already arrived. Her father waited with her mother at the main door.
All her life, they had ordered her around, told her what she could or couldn’t do. When she arrived home after her dinner with Klaus, her father had been so angry, he’d punched her in the face. He said she was a fat whore determined to humiliate him. What Klaus didn’t know was there were bruises across her ribs as well. If it hadn’t been for her mother and brothers talking some sense into him, she’d have been killed.
Klaus climbed out of the car first. The power he exuded was highly intoxicating. Even with a full tux, she could tell he was muscular beneath the expensive fabric. Strong legs, powerful shoulders, and thick biceps. She couldn’t believe for a second that he actually wanted her. He must want the peace that was supposed to come from this union.
Her mother had told her she was to do what was necessary to make him happy. Men like Klaus demanded submission, obedience, and silence. From the little interactions they’d had, the Klaus she knew was the opposite. He’d tried to make conversation with her.