Captive Bride, page 10
My lips touch hers and I feel her release a breath. I inhale in hopes that her innocent view on life will help me chase away the horror flowing through my veins. I need her strength. I need her optimism. Otherwise, I’ll be swallowed up whole just as if I had been thrown in the acid pits.
“Ember Davenport,” Scarecrow says. “Christopher Davenport.” His words break our kiss. “You are now joined as one under God.”
As I look upon this delicate flower, I want to make my own wedding vows to her.
I want to promise her we will find a way to leave this Hell.
I want to make a vow that she will never have to live this existence again.
I want to offer my words for a future that will be better, safer, and normal.
On this land, in Hallelujah Junction and in the eyes of all who stand and look upon me, Ember is my wife.
She is my captive bride.
16
Ember
I dreamed of this day.
When hopelessness surrounded me, that my existence would be nothing more than being the ghost of Hallelujah Junction, I had dreamed of a Prince Charming arriving from afar who would kiss away all the bad and bring me only good.
I stand before my Prince Charming.
My husband.
I know this isn’t what he wants. I know he wants to be free. I know he wants my father dead. But I also know fate has brought him here for a reason. Maybe he simply doesn’t know it yet. Maybe it’s my job to show him.
I know I can make him happy if I work really hard.
I know I can give him love and tenderness.
I can be a good wife. I know I can. I just have to convince him of that fact.
Papa Rich and Scarecrow leave us alone in the schoolhouse. The act alone shows that the marriage changes things. We aren’t going to have to spend our wedding night in the cold cellar. Papa Rich only had one dictate, and one that I am prepared to follow.
“You will lay this white sheet beneath you as you consummate the marriage. God will expect to see the signs of the union.”
He wanted proof of Christopher taking my virginity.
But I will do that. I will do anything if it means Christopher can remain in my private sanctuary.
Christopher and I hadn’t exchanged any words since our vows, but now that we stand in the schoolhouse alone, I feel it’s my duty to break the ice. “This is where I spend most of my time. I have a room in the main house, but I still prefer this place.” I point to the windows. “There’s a lot of sunshine.” I point to the old wood-burning stove. “And we can use this to heat the place in the winter. Not while there are tourists or they’ll see the smoke, but we can soon when the tourists leave.”
Christopher slowly meanders to the window that overlooks the town. The same window I was at when I watched Papa Rich hit him upside the head.
Because of the chain, I have no choice but to go with him.
“The ghost of Hallelujah Junction.” He smirks and then looks at me. “Is now my wife.”
My face heats and I look down at the floor at my bare feet. They are dirtier than I like, but I haven’t been able to keep up on the cleaning of the floors since I was in the cellar and I was busy with Christopher even before that.
He refocuses his attention outside the window. “When I took this assignment, to capture the sights of the ghost town known as Hallelujah Junction, I actually worried it would be too boring. I almost declined the job. I mean, who cares about an old mining town anyway? Who would read about that, and who would want to look at pictures of run-down dilapidated buildings? Boring.” He laughs more to himself than anything. “If I only knew.”
We stand there in silence, and I have no idea what to say. I know he’s in pain. I know he’s sad and angry. I want to make it better. I want to make it all go away.
“I don’t know how to be a wife,” I confess, feeling like I have to be honest.
He chuckles, still looking outside. “Oh, I can pretty much guarantee I have no idea how to be a husband either.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat and glance over my shoulder at the mattress on the floor with the bedding piled on top of it. The white sheet on top of the other blankets brings me back to the reality of what’s going to occur soon.
He’s going to take my virginity.
“Papa Rich said that tonight is going to hurt.”
Christopher turns his head and looks at me with confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going to hurt?”
“When you claim me,” I say softly, not being able to look him in the eye as I say the words. “He said it’s my duty and that I must just endure the pain. I’m scared,” I confess.
“Jesus,” he says as he runs his hands through his hair and looks out the window again. “I’m not going to claim you. I would never hurt you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t take what isn’t given. He can force many things, but he sure as fuck can’t force me to have sex with you.”
“But we have to consummate the marriage,” I say, feeling my heart sink. I don’t want to fail at being a wife on day one.
“What he knows or doesn’t know is none of his business. We don’t have to tell him what we do. Make him believe whatever makes him happy. I don’t give a shit.”
“Christopher…”
He spins to face me directly. His eyes are filled with anger. “I’m not going to take your virginity. I’m not that kind of man!” He moves his cuffed leg a little. “I may be chained like a damn animal, but that doesn’t mean I’ll behave like one.”
“You don’t want to have sex with me?” My lip trembles as I ask the question, and I struggle to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. I look down at my dress. “Am I not desirable?”
He grasps my chin and forces my head up to look at him. “First of all, you’re beautiful. Don’t ever feel you aren’t. You have a true and genuine beauty I’ve never seen before in another woman. There’s an angelic purity to you that you have somehow maintained even though you live in the absolute pit of despair.”
“Then why are you angry?” I ask. “Why is the thought of having sex on our wedding night getting you upset?”
“Because you deserve better!” he snaps. He glances at the mattress on the floor. “Your first experience should be romantic. It should be special. It should be an experience you want and have been looking forward to. I don’t want you to have sex because your father demands it.”
“But he does,” I say, pointing at the white sheet. “He told me he will expect to see proof of it tomorrow morning.”
“Motherfucker!” Christopher shouts as he punches his fist against the wall of the schoolhouse.
I jump back, but I can’t fully retreat without falling to the ground as the chain holds one foot in place.
Christopher sees my reaction and instantly softens and pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath in. “I don’t ever want to scare you.”
I pull away just enough so that I can look into his eyes. “Please don’t fight him on this. He’ll whip me if we refuse, and he’ll lock us back in the cellar.” I glance around the schoolhouse and add, “I know this may not be your apartment in New York, but it’s better than sleeping on the cold floor of the cellar. And I promise I’ll try to fix it up real nice. I’ll try to make it feel like our home.” I glance down at my feet. “Just don’t give Papa Rich reason to take it all away. He will. He doesn’t bluff.”
Christopher lifts my chin so I have to look up at him. “Where I come from, the woman chooses to give her virginity away. It’s a gift. And it’s not something I’d just take.”
“You aren’t taking. I’m giving.”
“It shouldn’t be like this.”
“We’re husband and wife now. It’s what’s supposed to be done. And…” My face heats and I divert my eyes in shame. “I’m way past the age. I know this. I shouldn’t be a virgin anymore. I don’t want to be. I want to be… normal. Or at least as normal as I can be in my setting.”
“Your setting?” I see hope in his eyes. I know he wants me to think the way he does. He thinks I live in denial, and maybe I do.
“I know I’m different. I know a normal woman doesn’t grow up in a ghost town hidden from the world. I know I’m sheltered.” Saying the words out loud actually stabs at my heart. “I’m aware of my circumstances and how they look to you. I also know you pity me.”
“I wouldn’t use the word pity,” he says. “But I see the truth, and I’m not sure you do.”
“What’s the truth you see?”
“Your father keeps you here against your will.”
I look down at my feet and then back up at him. “You’re right. That is my truth.”
“Then why don’t you want to escape?” he asks.
“It’s not a matter of want or not. It’s a matter of reality. I know we can’t escape. And I also know what the consequences could be. And even if I do escape…if we escape. Then what? What do I do? Where do I go? I don’t know anyone or anything. I have no idea what is outside of Hallelujah Junction.”
“I already told you,” he says. “I promised that I would help you. I wouldn’t just abandon you.”
“And that is pity.”
“No. That’s human decency. I would help you.”
“Because you have to? Because we’re now husband and wife? Because—”
“Because I’d want to,” he interrupts. “I feel this need to protect you, and it’s not going to go away just because we leave this town. I promise you that.”
He looks over my shoulder at the mattress with the white sheet. His brow furrows, but he doesn’t speak anymore. He takes a deep breath, runs his fingers through his hair and then pulls my head against his chest.
“I wish I could rescue you from this place tonight,” he says softly. “I wish I could introduce you to a normal life. I wish I could show you life as it’s supposed to be. I wish I could give you a romantic wedding night.”
I inhale his scent and close my eyes, savoring the fragrance. “You’re my husband. Being in your arms, I feel… safe. That’s all I need and all I’ll ever ask for.”
“But you aren’t safe. As long as we’re here, you’ll never be safe.”
He’s right. I know this deep down. I love my Papa Rich, but I know that one wrong move by Christopher or even me, and his temper could attack. He seems so unhinged, and it’s growing deeper and deeper by the day.
I break away from the hold and walk to the mattress. I begin unfolding the sheet and covering the bed with it, taking extra care to smooth out the wrinkles and tuck the corners in snuggly. I want our wedding bed to be as perfect as it can be.
I try to ignore the fear sizzling through my veins. Papa said it would hurt, and he’d never lied to me before, so I believe every word. But I also know it’s my duty as a wife, and one that I want to do well. I can’t give Christopher true freedom, but I can do whatever I can to make him happy and well cared for. It also shames me that a big part of me is curious and even excited for what’s to come. I want another kiss. I want more tender caresses and holding. I want the love. God, how much I want the love.
Not wanting to discuss this further, not wanting to beg for Christopher to comply, and not wanting to wait on anxious breath anymore, I lie on my back and slowly open my legs. I’m not wearing panties because I have none that were fancy enough for such a special day and night.
“I’m ready,” I nearly whisper, not sure what else to say. My voice cracks as I say the words.
I stare at the ceiling and wait to hear the slightest noise from Christopher. The first thing I hear is the release of a deep breath and then his footsteps approaching the mattress.
“I can’t do this,” he says as he towers over me, looking down with sorrow in his eyes. “This isn’t me. It feels wrong.”
I sit up and reach for his hand. Pulling him down to the mattress, I say, “Please. I know you think it’s dark now, but it can get so much darker. We must obey.”
“I don’t care what he does to me. He can’t make me lose who I am to my core.”
“He’ll hurt me, Christopher,” I say softly. “Protect me. As my husband, I’m asking you to please keep me from harm.”
I lie back down and close my eyes tightly, preparing myself for what is to come… or at least what I hope is coming.
17
Christopher
“Open your eyes,” I say firmly. “It won’t be like this. I won’t have your first time be a memory of you grinning and bearing it because you think it’s your wifely duty. If we’re going to have sex, then you’re going to allow me to make it as special as it can be considering our circumstances.”
“Special?” She opens her eyes and looks up at me.
The protective need coursing through me right now is beyond powerful. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I feel this overwhelming need to give this woman the best that I can, and if that means something as simple as making her first time having sex as pleasant as possible, then so be it.
I position my body so I’m beside her. I look into her eyes and say, “All you have to say is stop, and I will. Ask me to slow down, and I’ll listen. Your voice will be heard. Do not suffer through this. Understand?”
She nods and licks her lips as her eyes look at mine.
I lean forward and press my mouth to hers and am surprised when she willingly kisses me back. A bolt of desire shoots through me from the simple act, and I can’t resist but to press my tongue past her lips and caress it with hers. Rather than pulling back, tensing, or flinching like I expect her to do, she instead lets out a gasp as she dances her tongue with mine. Our kiss grows in intensity, and a passion I haven’t felt since I was a naive young boy who believed in puppy love, causes my cock to harden.
I need to block out all else and focus on Ember. Focus on giving this poor girl a memory that is good. I don’t want another first to be stolen from her. I don’t know why that is so important to me, but it is. She didn’t get the firsts in life, and now that I get to be part of one, I am determined to make it a good one.
And as we kiss, my body awakens, and I want to be inside of her. But I refuse to rush this.
I run my hand over her breasts with the finest touch. I keep my eyes open as I do, watching her face for any sign of distress. But instead, I see her eyes close, her lips open, and ever so slightly, she arches her back to meet my touch. I then trail my fingertips down her belly, inching my way to the space between her legs. I want to see how far I can go before she panics and asks me to stop.
She never does.
Her body’s hungry. Needy for touch and affection.
I look at the dress and have no idea how to go about removing it. The buttons are on the back.
“Can you help me get you out of this dress?” I lean down and kiss her softly one more time to try to calm any nerves in her body with the idea of getting naked in front of me. “I’ll take my clothes off too.”
I need to remove all the barriers because I know she doesn’t have the experience or confidence to do it herself or even aid me. She watches me with wide eyes as I lift my shirt over my head revealing my bare chest and abs.
I pause before I move to my pants. “Are you okay with this?”
She nods with more enthusiasm than I’ve seen and licks her lips again. I try not to smirk and reveal that her face is easy to read. She’d be an awful poker player.
I unbutton and remove my pants completely and kneel before her on the mattress. Her eyes refuse to look down at my dick, and I consider making her but remember how she believed she was so sinful before for stealing a peek. Instead, I turn her around so that I can begin unbuttoning the line of pearl buttons that run from neck to waist.
“You looked beautiful in this dress,” I say as she holds up her hair so I can see each pearl.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
When the buttons are undone, I lower the fabric slowly off her shoulders and kiss a trail as I do. I haven’t kissed a woman’s shoulders as I undress her ever before.
I’m not a gentle man in bed. In fact, I can be downright aggressive and nearly primal. The women don’t complain, in fact, they can be just as animalistic as me.
But with Ember, I want to be easy and soft.
I want to treat her like the candle of bright light she is, and make sure I don’t put out the flame. The flicker of heat from her skin, connecting with my lips nearly makes me explode with a hunger to claim her as mine.
I don’t want anyone else to touch her. I don’t want anyone to harm her, or scare her, or abuse her in any way. I want to hold her close like fine china to be handled with the utmost care.
Once all our clothes are shed, I lower her back to the bed and place my body over hers. I don’t want to frighten her with too much foreplay and foreign acts that she may not be aware of yet. But I also know she isn’t ready for me to just take her.
“I don’t want this to hurt,” I say as I lower my mouth to her lips and kiss her again. “So, I’m going to get you ready with my fingers. I’m going to touch you in a very intimate way if that’s okay?”
Would I ever say these words to a woman I was dating or hooking up with? Hell no. In fact, it would probably kill the mood. But Ember was different. She needed this. She needed the steps and the instructions, or I was going to scare the living shit out of her.
I reposition my body so I can reach between her legs more comfortably. I plan to really take my time allowing her body to wake up to arousal. When my fingers touch her pussy, I’m surprised to find her wet. Her tiny moan gives me the permission I need to start massaging the delicate flesh.
“I’m going to put my finger inside of you,” I say as I kiss her neck and slightly nibble.
She doesn’t answer but nods as I take notice that her breath is coming out more labored and her body tenses as my fingers stroke and spread her lips wide.
