Broken Soul (Jackson Family 3)

jaxon

Inessa plastereda smile on her face for all of our guests, much as she had at the ball that had announced our engagement. But I knew she hated me with every fiber of her being. I could practically feel the hatred pouring out of her pores. Shit, it was practically burning me.

I was pretty sure she was hoping I wouldn’t consummate our marriage tonight, but she was sorely wrong. I knew her family would be expecting an heir soon, and I wouldn’t be the one breaking the agreement between the two families.

I would do my part, and I expected Inessa to do the same.

The wedding festivities lasted long into the night, but around midnight, I was done playing pretend. My face fucking hurt from being forced to be so nice around so many people for this fucking long. I was normally always in the background, keeping the family safe. This wasn’t what I normally did.

With Inessa’s hand tightly clasped in mine, I led her over to where Jaxon and Adrik were talking. Inessa leaned up and pressed a kiss to her grandfather’s cheek in greeting. He didn’t smile at her. His face didn’t even change, and for a split moment, I saw Inessa’s armor crack, showing the pain she hid beneath her perfect façade.

“We’re retiring for the night,” I told Jaxon.

His eyes flickered to Inessa for a moment before they locked back on me. He nodded once. “Very well, then.”

I turned to Adrik and held my hand out to him. “A pleasure as always, Adrik.”

He nodded and shook my hand. “Keep my granddaughter in line, yes? She’s very free-spirited.”

I nodded once, trying to hide my amusement. The girl had a heart of fire and the spirit of a warrior. Taming her would be done with great pleasure.

I turned on my heel and led Inessa towards the stairs. Once we were out of view of everyone downstairs, she ripped her hand from mine. I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

Here we fucking go.

“I don’t know what your plan is tonight,” she seethed, “but you’re not touching me.”

I slowly arched an eyebrow at my little wife. “You sure about that, Inessa?” I asked her. “Your family expects something from us, and I won’t be the one to break the treaty between our families.”

Tears glittered in her pretty eyes. “You’re. Not. Touching. Me,” she sneered, enunciating each word as they left her lips.

Before she could react, I reached out and wrapped my hand around her slender throat, shoving her back against the wall. Her face paled, fear sparking in her eyes. My grip wasn’t tight, but it was definitely a reminder to her of where she stood and what her place was.

It was beneath me.

I leaned in close to her. “You want to repeat those words to me, little wife?” I whispered threateningly. I felt her swallow beneath my palm. “I advise you to think carefully about your next words.”

A tear slid down her cheek. I steeled myself against her sadness. I wouldn’t let it affect my duty to this family.

“I hate you.”

I smirked at her. “The feeling is mutual,” I assured her.

Then, I lifted her over my shoulder and strode up the remaining stairs to my room. She hung limply, no longer fighting.

She knew her fate was sealed the moment her grandfather and I agreed to this. There was nothing she could say and nothing she could do that would stop this.

Once we were in our room and I had the door locked, I carefully set her on her feet. Tears were sliding down her cheeks, but I didn’t care. Family first, and right now, she was not family.

I shrugged my jacket off. “Strip,” I ordered.

She didn’t fight me. Sniffling, she began to take off her wedding dress, her fingers trembling. I took off my cufflinks before I unbuttoned my sleeves. Her dress pooled to the floor, leaving her in a lacy, white bra and matching panties, her heels still on her feet. A pair of white stockings stopped on her upper thighs and were held up by garters.

She was fucking stunning. I couldn’t rip my eyes from her. Her curves were fucking perfect, and my hands were itching to touch her, to learn each dip of her sweet body.

I continued watching as I stripped out of my shirt. She shakily stepped out of her heels, dropping a good six inches. She was so small compared to me, and a part of me secretly loved it.

Her breath caught in her throat as I slid my shirt off, baring my muscular, tattooed upper body to her. Her hands were paused at her garters, and her tongue flicked out nervously over her bottom lip, making me even harder than I’d been.

“Continue,” I roughly commanded.

She unhooked her garters before rolling her stockings down her thighs. I toed out of my expensive shoes, my socks going next. After, I dropped my slacks, letting them pool to the floor.

A gasp ripped through the air. Her thumbs were hooked in her panties, ready to pull them down her thighs, but her gaze was locked on my cock.

I’d gone commando. I normally did. I hated boxers and briefs. They were too constricting, and I liked being free.