Love Scars: Bad Boy's Bride(8)

By: Nicole Snow

“Take a moment to look it over carefully, babe. There's no going back after this. Your old man's signed it.”

It was a long contract. I started to read the first few words, something about a marriage endorsed by the state of New York. There was something about a daughter who wasn't fully of sound mind too. At the bottom was a notary's stamp next to three signature lines.

One was David's, huge and imposing as the rest of him. Next to it was my father's familiar curly signature. The blood was already throbbing hot in my temples when I got to the third signature. When I saw the bad imitation of my own writing, I nearly fainted.

“Cost an arm and a fucking leg to pay off the asshole who got that thing ready for us. Good thing me and your old man are rich. State officials are greedy motherfuckers when it comes to risking their necks to endorse fake marriages.” He paused, crinkling his lip in dissatisfaction. “No, that's not quite right, is it? There's nothing fake about this shit. The whole damned state recognizes you're my fucking bride, babe, and so does your old man. Last one to find out is you.”

My vision contracted. The room blurred until I couldn't see anything except his large, devilish shadow sitting there. My spine gave out at the same time as my legs.

I hit the floor and barely caught myself. He was on me in an instant, pulling my limp body up by the shoulders, cradling me to his chest.

“ didn't!” My voice cracked, hoarse and terrified. “We can't be...”

“Married? Fuck yeah we can, Anna. And we are. Get used to it.”

All my energy came surging back. I bucked in his arms, tried to elbow him, screaming. But he was too strong, too fast, easily thwarting my efforts the same way a grown man slaps away a child's feeble punches.

“Calm the fuck down, beautiful. I'm doing you a fucking favor by being upfront. Better to get this shit outta your system now.” He laughed. “Go ahead. Try to kick me in the nuts. Nothing like a real drag out fight to get to the truth.”

I thrashed in his arms several more times. Then I went limp again, realizing I was so thoroughly fucked my body didn't want to spend any more time fighting. I couldn't muster up the will to scream, to claw at him, least of all to cry.

“What is it, love?” He asked after a minute of calm. “You're taking this shit better than I thought. Is that all the hell you got in those pretty bones? Or could it be that maybe – just maybe – marrying my ass isn't a death sentence?”

Bastard! The overwhelming urge to spit and bite and stab was back, but I kept in check. Just barely.

“I'll never be your wife,” I said coldly. “Go ahead and pretend. Use me as a pawn in this sick fucking business I never asked to be a part of. I don't know what your problem is with my Dad, but it's not mine. If you're going to hurt me, rape me, keep me against my will then...that's all on you.”

I expected him to snarl, maybe slap me across the face. I didn't expect more of that vicious, dark, thick laughter thundering in my ears.

“Suit yourself, baby girl. You're my new wifey whether you've internalized that shit yet or not. I don't give a fuck if you want to fight and tell me what a bad boy I've been. I married you because I didn't want our kids coming up like bastards.”

I gasped for air. Kids? This lunatic was really talking about having a baby with me?

“Hope you get those fucking tears out of your system soon, pet. They're not gonna delay a damned thing.”

“What're you talking about? Delay what?” I snorted.

David jerked me against his chest, this time tighter. His hand rolled down my side, pressing my sweater snug. He didn't stop until his brute hand was clapped on my thigh, giving it a possessive squeeze.

Dangerous heat flooded me, rage and lust mingling in the dance I despised. It gave me my answer before he opened his mouth again.

No. Not there. Please!

“You're gonna do your fucking duties like a good wife, same as I'm gonna do mine like your lawfully wedded man. We've got certain traditions we respect around here, Anna. Shit means more to me than breathing. You'll figure that out fast.” He sighed, hissing hot, guttural desire onto my neck, stopping just short of stamping his lips to my skin. “Nothing's gonna stop me from fucking your brains out, love. Nothing. This little contract gives me all the rights and privileges a husband deserves, and I'm not taking that shit for granted. You can whine all you want, but sometime in the next twenty-four hours, I'll be balls deep inside your sweet little pussy. Then you'll understand. Once you have this dick in you, you'll never be able to imagine another, especially not one attached to some pissant who doesn't know shit about blood or sex or ink like I do.”

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