Proserpina
When I opened my eyes, the world outside my window was gray; dusk had settled, I thought vaguely, questioning for a moment why I was still in bed.
Shouldn't you be in the kitchen supervising dinner? I asked myself wearily, puzzled by the heaviness in my head.
I raised a hand to my forehead as the room seemed to tilt when I fully opened my eyes. I felt dizzy and disoriented. As my mind gradually cleared, everything rushed back— the flamboyant Fun Fort being delivered and assembled that had infuriated me, leading to my confrontation with Lucien. I must have blacked out then because afterward, I recalled the doctor who had examined me, a surly old man who had been unexpectedly gentle.
He had been upset to learn that I hadn't undergone a thorough examination once I discovered I was pregnant.
How could I tell him that I would have preferred to lose the baby?
My indifference must have unsettled him.
After the physical examination, he had stayed by my bedside, holding my wrist, checking my pulse.
'Young lady,' he said softly, 'You're going to be a mother. It's one of the happiest moments in a woman's life...'
I looked up at him, tears welling in my eyes.
His gentleness was my downfall. Unable to restrain myself, I began to cry. Once I started, I couldn't stop. He immediately sat down, alarmed, patting my shoulder, clearly unsure how to handle an overwhelmed pregnant young woman who was anything but the cheerful mother-to-be he expected.
I was barely aware of the pinprick in my arm as I cried, releasing my bottled-up distress.
"I'm giving you a mild sedative," he murmured, pulling things from his large black bag.
He left the room as I tried to steady myself but soon drifted off to sleep, soothed by the injection.
***
In growing horror, I clapped my hand to my mouth as I realized that Lucien had likely been informed about my pregnancy.
And knowing how perceptive my husband was, he must have deduced that the child was conceived on that terrible night in the Red Room when he had treated me so harshly to assert his dominance...
***
Panicking, I understood that I was in my room. The dim light from my bedside lamp illuminated the area around me, but the rest of the room was shrouded in darkness. I swung my legs over the bed, although the room felt unsteady whenever I moved. Raising a hand to my head, I remembered belatedly that the doctor had given me a sedative. Gasping for breath, I clutched the bedcovers, tried to stand, and nearly collapsed from shock when a deep, raspy voice stopped me.
"You need to rest."
Lucien's voice.
***
I spun around in alarm.
What was HE doing here? I wondered, staring wide-eyed toward the direction his voice had come from as I turned to look.
I could now discern the outline of his muscular shoulders against the evening sky and the lawns beyond as my eyes adjusted to the gloom. It confirmed that I was definitely in my room, wearing my nightdress adorned with elephants flying over the moon, the one Ria had chosen from an online store.
The irony of my situation made me curl my lips in disdain.
My lover, my husband, who had never been in my bedroom since that fateful night we got married nearly seven months ago, was now sitting in the armchair, watching me with a lethal expression on his face.
***
I sat up straighter before giving up and sinking back against the pillows, feeling dizzy.
With the grace and speed of a panther on the hunt, Lucien rose from the armchair by the window and approached the bed. He was in his shirt sleeves, and his thick gray hair was tousled.
I curled back into the bed, my eyes widening in alarm as he neared.
Lucien
He had been in the room ever since the doctor left. Schwartz had taken on the responsibility of entertaining the twins; an unspoken truce had been declared between the two men, although Schwartz knew that his friend held him entirely responsible for the young woman's distress. As he sat, brooding in the room, his eyes traveled over the slight figure lying almost motionless on the large bed. She was wearing her silly-looking, childish night suit that Beatrice had insisted on getting her.
("She needs to be comfortable is all I know!' the old woman had insisted and had gotten her into the suit.)
He rubbed his large hand over his face again.
***
The fact that she had successfully concealed the truth about her pregnancy infuriated him deeply. And it also made him admire her. She was stronger than he had ever imagined.
But again, he wondered, why hadn't she informed him?
Despite knowing the answer, he scowled at the little woman who was in a drug-induced sleep.
She should have told him...five and a half? six months...
He grimaced as he recalled what had transpired between them that night when he had forced his seed into her.
The Red Room
Around five and a half months ago. And he had not laid hands on her since that night.
He had wanted to teach her a lesson.
But ... get her pregnant?
*
That night
She had lain, her head thrown back, her long brown hair streaming around her, her hands imprisoned above her. Lucien stood, naked and powerful, looking down at her. This was how he would take her tonight, he thought as his thick member reared in anticipation of the enjoyment it would obtain from this completely helpless woman who lay like an offering for him. She was at his mercy.
She had writhed, begging him to stop,
"Please Lucien,' she had panted once during that night, imploring him as he used her brutally,' Not anymore, not like this... I can't take it ...please...'
He had lowered his head to bite her luscious breasts and tender nipples, getting aroused as she cried out. His thick member had driven into her wetness, again and again as he plundered the very core of her inner self, her womanhood.
He had used her roughly all night and he knew she was exhausted but he had not been able to stop himself. In fact, it had been as though he was driven by the devil.
His rage, his jealousy, and the feeling that she might find him wanting, unable to satisfy her youthful sexual appetite, made him almost maniacal in his lust.
Earlier, he had overheard the conversation between Thomas and Jazz where he had learned that she had been a wanton woman, throwing herself at men like those young studs. It had fired his anger, making his already suspicious mind go into overdrive. So she was a woman who had had sex with Thomas before she became his mistress. And he thought of how he had discovered her in the Red Room, sandwiched between those youthful men, their hands all over her body. Thomas had been kissing her fervently while Jazz held her, his large hands on her breasts, caressing her with impunity while she seemed to be leaning into their embrace.
Enjoying their hands on her delectable body?
She was supposed to be HIS, the woman he had just declared was about to be his wife, the wife of Lucien Delano, a Mafia mob boss.
The words that his ex-lover had used, suggesting that Proserpina might want to f*ck younger men, had been branded into his drink-fuelled, jealous mind, indelibly. He was insanely aware of how much older than her he was. Seeing first-hand the woman he was about to marry and the mother of his children, in the arms of not one, but two of her former male friends, made him want to throttle them with his bare hands.
He had beaten up the young men but his woman deserved a special punishment. She should know what would happen if she ever dared to look at another man in desire. No, Proserpina belonged to him, and only him.
Making out with two young studs, on the same day that he had publicly announced his decision to marry him? So this was her so-called love for him?
He thrust hard into her as the jealousy overcame him and was rewarded by her mewl of pain.
She whimpered, her eyes beseeching him mutely to stop his assault.
'No, my sweet little slut,' he growled, and her breasts tensed as his mouth latched onto a nipple, sucking hard, nipping, inflicting pain. She had fought as best as she could, biting his thick wrist, and his shoulder but it had only aroused him further. In the end, her young body was rendered limp in subjugation but he was not done. As he raised himself, scrabbling wildly for yet another condom, he swore as he realized that he had run through the neatly arranged stack that had been placed at arm's length for the pleasure of whoever was using the room.
Her body was quivering in a helpless reaction as she whispered,
"Enough, Lucien, please. No more. I beg you, please...'
The sight of her body undulating beneath him, the full breasts with the dark rose-tipped nipples that he could never get enough of, the softly rounded belly that had carried his two children, the mound with the tight curls and her own body scent drove him crazy.
With an oath, he thrust into her aggressively, grabbing her arse and forcing her to come even closer to him as his thrusts became more savage. She had cried out as his member pounded the most sensitive point within her fertile womb and she had cried out again as she had climaxed.
The sight of his woman collapsing weakly in his powerful arms had made him go over the edge with desire and he had thrown back his head, snarling as he came, the sound of his triumphant roar echoing in the room as he branded her with his seed. Uncaring of the savagery he was inflicting on her, he pounded her, emptying his load in her, fiercely, mercilessly as she thrashed and screamed out...
And it had resulted in this.