Page 2 of Making the King

Squaring my shoulders, I recite the practiced words. “I promise to give you everything you deserve. From today, and until our last day together.”

There. It’s vague, yet completely true. I’ll fucking give Rochus what he deserves, and one way or another, it’ll be tonight. When he wants to consummate the marriage, as he so eloquently put it.

Fucking pig.

As fucked up as it is, I’m glad my dad kept me a virgin. I guess he learned his lesson with Julietta. My fucked up parents didn’t even try to mask their disappointment when my sister was sold for less than they expected, all because they started whoring her out at twelve. So, they went to great lengths to keep me a virgin, always making sure I knew it was so they could sell me for more at their creepy black market auction.

“Get on with it,” my dad demands.

“Y-yes, of course,” the priest stammers. “Do you umm… do you have rings?”

I look expectantly at the guy who bought me. I fully expect him to say I’m not worth it and move on, but to my surprise he fishes a black velvet box from his pocket. When he opens it, my eyes widen as the two gold bands come into view.

“Of course I fucking do,” he says, smiling widely.

Taking my hand, he slides the gleaming ring onto my ring finger and winks at me. Then he hands me the other one, and I roll my eyes as I shove it onto his digit.

The priest clears his throat. “Rochus King, you may now kiss your bride.”

Fuck. Me.

I don’t want this man’s lips on me. Though I’ve never been kissed, I’ve been forced to watch the men with Julietta enough times to know it’s nothing like in the movies. The slobbering, foul smelling pigs she’s had to…

“Do you mind?” Rochus asks, and I look up in confusion.

Surely he wasn’t talking to me, was he? Because I mind a fucking lot. No, of course, he isn’t asking me. If you’re fucked up enough to buy a child bride, you don’t ask permission.

“Mind what?” my dad barks, sounding as though he’s being inconvenienced by the question.

Rochus sighs. “I don’t want to kiss my wife at gunpoint. So, I ask again. Do you fucking mind?”

No one talks to my dad with so much disrespect, so I’m fully expecting him to punch Rochus. But he doesn’t. To my astonishment, I feel the gun being removed from my back. Without meaning to, I straighten my spine, like I’m testing that the pressure is really gone.

Before I can contemplate doing anything, Rochus places his hands on my hips and turns me toward him. My gray eyes fly to his. They’re the color of chocolate, and there’s something hidden in the depths. Something that makes me feel…

“Relax,” he breathes.

I don’t get the chance to retort. Rochus’ lips on mine silence me.

It’s not the disgusting and brutal kisses I’ve seen my sister be subjected to. In fact, it’s soft and slow. He isn’t using his tongue, only pressing his lips to mine.

Rochus’ hands move from my hips, slowly trailing up to my head. He winds his fingers through my locks, and I take his lead, moving mine to his shoulders. Before I know it, I instinctively open my mouth, but to my surprise, he doesn’t deepen the kiss.

This is nothing like I was expecting it to be, and I’m completely caught off guard. Forceful and disgusting, that’s what I’d prepared myself for. After seeing what my sister’s husband did to her, I wouldn’t even have been surprised if Rochus bent me over a pew and fucked me right here. But this…

“That’s enough for now,” Rochus murmurs. Just as I’m about to rethink my opinion of him, he lets go of my hair and slaps my ass. “The rest will come once we’re out of here. Don’t wanna desecrate this holy place, do we?”

I almost throw up in my mouth as he turns around and winks conspiratorially at my dad, who laughs boisterously.

“When the last payment goes through, you can fuck her bloody for all I care.”

The lack of care for my well being no longer shocks me. All it does is cement the fact that one day I want to dance on this fucker’s grave.

As soon as the words leave my dad’s mouth, the door slams open and a dark-haired guy struts through. When he reaches the couple lying in a pool of their own blood, he jumps over them and does a fucking twirl.

What the actual fuck?

“Did someone ask for money?” he asks, nodding first at Rochus and then my dad. Walking straight up to me, he takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “Congratulations, Mrs. King.”

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