His Little Rose

Rose pov

Life is ironic.

I'm surrounded by the luxury I've always yearned for, yet I'm unable to revel in it.

The sweet-smelling fragrance of exotic perfumes and cosmetics fills the room.

I suck in the air feverishly, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

I attempt to ignore the hands of the ladies working on my body, believing they are beautifying me, but they are everywhere.

I close my eyes tight and get lost in my thoughts instead. Anything to stop myself from thinking about what will happen in a few moments from now.

I'm no kid; I know what will be expected of me tonight and why these women are all over me.

I may be naive, but I'm not stupid.

My body is now slick from the oil-scented bath I've been taken through and as soft and supple as a baby's from their ministrations.

Every part of me burns and feels relaxed at the same time. The beautification process is tiring, and I wish we could skip this part already.

Tonight is my wedding night.

My heart pounds in my chest, not from excitement but from fear and anticipation-perhaps dread is a more apt word-of the next few hours and the future.

This is a far cry from the plans I had, but life just has to get in the way.

In a matter of seconds, my life was turned upside down.

I gave my consent to this, but it has not been wholehearted. If there is an opportunity for me to escape this arrangement, I will readily lunge at it.

I'm eighteen-young, brilliant, youthful, and with a clear goal in mind.

But-I release another deep sigh, my shoulders sagging-I guess this is my life now. After all, life doesn't always weave the pattern we desire.

This is my cross, and I shall bear it.

Finally, "You're ready to go." The voice of the lady before me breaks my thoughts, and I open my eyes.

I meet her gaze as I raise my head, and she smiles down at me-a warm and compassionate smile.

"You look beautiful, dear," she says, as if that will ease the tension simmering through my veins.

Her declaration has sent my pulse racing. It was finally time.

With the corner of my cheek twitching, I return her smile with a ghost of mine. "Thank you." A whisper.

I'm led into the master bedroom suite, and the double doors close behind me as I enter.

I'm awed by the grandeur that stares back at me as I step into the room.

The room is impressively built, wide, and spacious, with plush furnishings, captivating decor, and a tasteful ambiance.

Everything within it screams opulence and wealth.

I wonder what a man who controls wealth like this wants from me.

I'm nobody, just a girl struggling to achieve her dreams but deterred by the enormous debts on my shoulders.

Much of what prompted his decision to marry me makes no sense to me, and no matter how much I think about it, I always hit an impasse in my head.

Could it have been an attraction?

He flirted with me the first time we met, but I politely turned him down. I had enough on my plate to contend with than entertain any man's coquetry.

I doubt that was the case.

What on earth does he want with me? My head screams for answers.

I spin around as I hear the doors open behind me, and there he stands, looking all regal and hot like a Greek god.

My heart skips a beat at the sight of him.

He steps in, the doors closing behind him. My mouth runs dry as he approaches, and my heart is pounding with increasing intensity.

The air in the room seems suspended as our gazes lock. A powerful aura drifts from him, cascading shivers down my spine.

I wet my lips and work on finding my voice, but the tension has robbed me of it.

"Undress," he says, his timbre hard, deep, and husky, his jaw rock-hard, and his rich golden amber eyes burning with a fervor that almost makes me shudder under their attention.

"Can we talk about...?" My voice shakes as I speak, but my words hang in my throat, a gasp escaping instead as he yanks the silk dress off my body.

My arms move instinctively to cover my exposed parts, my cheeks burning from embarrassment as he gorges on my body.

He undresses himself as well, getting naked within moments. I shield my gaze from him as he divests himself of his clothing.

He sweeps me into his arms and carries me to the king-sized bed at the center of the room.

"Uhm, Desmond, wait a minute," I protest as my back hits the plush bed, the heat of his body enveloping mine.

"What is it now?" he asks.

"Can we–?" I swallow the lump that forms in my throat as I weigh the chance of him considering my request. "I'm not ready for this."

"You are my wife, and we shall consummate our marriage tonight," he says with finality in his tone.

My mouth parts, but nothing comes out of it. I'm unable to think of a fitting response to counter his decision.

"You shall submit to me from now on and never act without my permission."

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Don't interrupt me either. I hate being interrupted. There will be consequences, Rose, if you disobey any of the ground rules. Do you understand?"

My brows furrow as I watch him. Gone is the nice, homely man I thought I knew. The man I married is a total stranger. I know Dad has been desperate to save his failing business, but had he known this nature of Desmond and yet agreed to marry me off to him?

No. It rings loudly in my head. My dad loves me. He couldn't have.

Amid my denial, my subconscious sneers at me.

I feel a strong grip on my jaw, biting into my cheeks, and I'm pulled out of my thoughts.

My eyes lock on Desmond's familiar amber eyes.

"Do you understand me?" he repeats.

It's too late to back out now. It isn't as if I'm left with any options. Either I go back to my daily struggles, reminded of my frustrations as well as my dad's, or I endure this, enveloped with the luxury I've always longed for.

What about happiness? What about love? My inner mind inquires.

I am used to making sacrifices for the greater good. This arrangement isn't any different. It's for the greater good. I resign myself to my fate.

"I understand," I say, my voice barely audible, and his mouth descends on mine, roughly devouring it.

I shut my eyes tightly, my heart feeling heavy. His large palms roam over my body, spreading heat through them. Shivers run through my body as he takes me, and I groan.

I'm suspended between the thin line that separates pain and pleasure. Desmond's thrusts are fast and aggressive. The bed dips repeatedly beneath our combined weight as he plunges, his grunts filling the air.

I grip the sheets at my sides, tightening my eyes and my mouth from screaming.

The blissful torture finally ends, leaving my body drained of its strength.

Our bodies are slick with sweat, and the scent of bodily fluids and sex hangs thickly in the air. He pulls out of me and gets down from the bed, leaving me immobile.

My chest heaves and tingles spread over my body in the aftermath of being ravaged by Desmond.

All I hear is the sound of the door opening and closing. He's gone, but I know it's only temporary.

He will be back, again.