I close the distance between us, still keeping my eyes downcast.
“Arms at your sides. Spin in a circle. Slowly.”
My cheeks flush, but I follow his directions.
He gestures toward my pubic hair. “This will have to go. You can take care of that after your fitting for your new wardrobe tomorrow.”
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to curb my emotions. Already, I feel as if I’ve disappointed him.
“You’re a virgin, correct?”
My head snaps up and I finally meet his gaze, slightly perturbed. “Of course I am.Sir.”
He stands, and I’m forced to step back. He looks down at me. “They taught you what to expect?”
My cheeks turn what I’m sure is the shade of a tomato. “Yes.”
“Good.” He jerks his chin. “Get on the bed.”
I do as he says, his eyes tracking me the entire time. He pulls his boxers down to reveal himself, and I find that the diagrams Headmistress used were wildly undetailed. He opens the drawer in the nightstand and squeezes some kind of clear liquid into his palm before sliding it over his erection. Crawling up the bed toward me, he uses his knee to spread my legs apart.
I don’t resist.
He is neither caring nor gentle, and the pain is substantial. My fingernails dig into my palms so hard I’m sure they’ll draw blood, until he finally stops moving and lets out what sounds like a pained groan. When he rolls off of me and leaves the room with a half-hearted, “Goodnight, Delilah,” I curl into a ball on my side and cry, uncaring that the sheets beneath me are sticky and wet.
Delilah
Present Day
“A proper wife should be as obedient as a slave.”—ARISTOTLE
Raindrops splat loudly on the car roof, much heavier than normal for this time of year. The city lights blur as I look out the window, but I don’t let it dampen my spirit. Gabriel travels to the capital on business often, but it’s rare I get to tag along. There’s so much to look at—bright signs, people hustling down the sidewalks to get out of the rain, skyscrapers on every block.
After the celebration we hosted at our house, the High Lords decided Gabriel deserved a more official party—a masquerade, to be precise—in the Northwest’s capital. Many of the higher ranking officials will be in attendance, and Gabriel’s bouncing leg is the only indication that he’s nervous at all for tonight.
I reach over and place my hand on his thigh, the material of his tuxedo trousers warm beneath my palm. “You’re gonna do great.”
He grabs my wrist tightly and tugs me toward him, the silky material of my black evening gown sliding across the bench seat. Heburies his face in my neck, breathing me in. I decide to use the opportunity to help him relax, and I reach for his crotch, rubbing him through his pants.
“Delilah.”
I smile. “Yes?”
“If I wanted a whore, I would have one.” His tone is so sharp I can practically feel the sting on my skin. He digs his carton of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one, cracking the window so he doesn’t fill the cabin with smoke.
My face flushes and I pull away, sliding back over on the bench to look out the window. It’s rare he doesn’t want me to pleasure him, so he must be feeling more anxious than I thought.
He sighs, like the distance I put between us annoys him. “Delilah.”
I ignore him, even though I know it will cost me.
“Delilah,” he repeats, more harshly this time.
A single tear slides down my cheek, which I quickly dab away to keep my makeup intact. Still, I don’t respond.
His sudden grip on my elbow is bruising, and he yanks me back over to him so hard I muffle a cry. “Look at me when I speak to you!” he warns.
I do as he says, noting the slightly crazed look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, sir.”
