Page 3 of Road to Ruin
“Willingly?” She sounds like she’s about to burst into laughter or tears, one of the two.
“I need to hear you say it,” Gustavo says.
A blanket of silence fills the room. We all know what happens if Genevieve suddenly decides she wants to back out of this: West pulls a gun on the priest, and I make her wish she’d never been born. She stands very, very still, looking at me as if she’s trying to pick me apart, searching for the thread she needs to tease at to unravel me. To understand me. She sounds frustrated when she finally answers him. “Yes. I am here willingly.”
Gustavo breathes a sigh of relief. “Good, good. This is good. Then we’ll begin. In the presence of these two witnesses…” He rambles on, talking of God and of commitment.I meet Genevieve’s gaze, and I begin to make plans. I don’t have time to move slowly. I will figure out how to crack that hard veneer of hers, and I will work out what makes her tick. She’s complicated. Perhaps more complicated than any other woman I’ve met, but still… I’m Alexander Bastien. I will win her heart without a fucking doubt, and when I do…
“Do you, Alexander Frederic Bastien, take this woman, Genevieve Louisa Eleanor Kendrick, to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her, in good times and in bad? In sickness and in health? Do you promise to love and honor her all the days of her life?”
Ah, the irony. Gustavo knows I’m incapable of love. He told my father he thought I was a sociopath when I was just five years old. Asking if I promise to love Genevieve is like asking the sun not to rise. It goes against the laws of physics, of logic, common sense, and any other law you might care to come up with. I know a thing or two about honor, though. “I do,” I say. My voice has a hard, stone-worn edge to it. My agreement to Gustavo’s question is more than that; it’s a threat. Genevieve will be mine forever. There’s no way out for her once this is over. She will belong to me no matter what. She must hear this in my voice. She goes paler and paler by the second as Father Gustavo asks her the same questions he just asked of me.
“…sickness and in health. Do you promise to love and honor him all the days of his life?”
She swallows. Her pupils look blown, so wide and black that for a brief moment her irises look entirely black. “I do,” she whispers.
“Then I now pronounce you man and wife.” Gustavo hesitates for a second, and then adds, “May God have mercy on your soul, young lady.”
The whole ceremony lasts only a few minutes, but the seconds seem to drag out for eternity. I step forward and hold out my hand to West. He places the handle of my knife into my palm, and Genevieve fastens her bottom lip between her teeth, panic finally blossoming on her features. I take hold of her dress by the strap over her left shoulder and I quickly cut the material, slashing through it with ease. I do the same to the other side, and the white silk tumbles from her body, gathering in a pool at her feet. As I demanded of her, she’s not wearing any underwear. She stands with her hands at her sides, fingers twitching reflexively, as if she wants to cover herself. I give her a look that lets her know just how displeased I will be with her if she does this, and something happens: a flash of anger lights up her face. Instead of hiding her embarrassment, Genevieve rolls her shoulders back and lifts her chin, staring me down. Fucking adorable. She thinks she can stand up to me? She thinks she’s brave enough for what’s to come? She has no idea how absolutely messed up and confusing her world is about to get. I’m going to have the time of my fucking life showing her. There will come a time, soon, when she will have to choose between me and her brothers, and she will not be able to turn her back on me. She will beg for their deaths just so long as I continue to allow her into my bed. She’ll turn her back on her blood in order to remain in my good graces. She won’t just give me her heart. She’ll give me her soul and everything else she holds dear, and I will take it all from her with a savage fucking smile on my face.
I begin to unbutton my shirt. “I hope you’re ready. You understand what I require of you?”
She breathes out heavily, then nods. “You tell me what you want, and I obey.”
West bites down on his bottom lip, groaning under his breath. Vaughn remains silent, but I can see the anticipation glittering in his eyes. Genevieve shifts, clearly uncomfortable that my brothers appear to be growing excited. “Are they…are they going to…?”
“They’re witnesses. They have to witness everything. That a problem?” This is how it used to be done back when kings and queens used to get married. A room full of people would stay and watch the newlyweds fuck, just to make sure the marriage was consummated. The Bastien family have also adhered to this tradition for as long as anyone can remember. My mother and father, my grandparents, my great grandparents, on and on, forever. Genevieve’s obviously repelled by the idea of so many people hanging around to watch us in bed. She frowns, deep lines marking her brow.
“It’s not a problem,” she whispers. “Let’s just get it over with.”
She assumes I’m going to screw her until I come and that will be that. She’s sorely mistaken. Tonight won’t be over until I’ve made her come. She needs to surrender to me in every way, and that includes her pleasure.
I strip down until I’m naked. Father Gustavo clears his throat, scratching at the back of his hand and his forearm like a junky craving his next fix. “I think, then, if that’s all, I should be going—”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I snap. “If he tries to leave, cut his fucking balls off.”
“Gladly,” West says.
Gustavo opens his mouth, shocked, but then clearly thinks better of objecting and closes it again. Vaughn laughs very quietly under his breath, and Genevieve jumps at the unexpected sound of amusement.
“On the bed,” I demand. She walks backwards until she reaches the bed, and then climbs up as I’ve instructed. She makes herself small, hugging her knees to her chest, watching me as I approach her like a frightened deer.
“From here on out, there are no safe words,” I tell her. “There’s no backing out. You’re here for me to use. You’re here for me to do whatever the hell we want to you. You’re here for me to own you. Nothing is off-limits. Your body is my playground…and I like to play hard.” I don’t finish up this statement by asking her if this is okay. If it’s not okay, then it’s simply tough luck.She said the words. She relinquished control of her body and her life just now when she said
“I do.” She sold her soul to the devil, and now he’s come to collect.
I climb up onto the bed and I push her roughly back onto the mattress. She stretches out long, but her arms and legs are rigid; I’m sure every part of her is screaming right now, begging her to fight me off, to get up and run, but she must know how futile that would be. If I wasn’t already painfully fucking hard, the sight of her laid out like this would have my dick throbbing in less than a cool second. She’s incredible. Her breasts aren’t huge, maybe a little more than a handful, but they’re fucking amazing. Her nipples—small, a fragile shade of pink—are peaked and so ready for me to take into my mouth. The curve of her hips; the long, lean muscles in her legs; the slope of her collarbone, and the pool of her ink black hair around her head, arranged like a dark halo…every small piece of her on its own is flawless, but combined together she looks like a painting, a work of art that could never be replicated.
She sucks in a deep breath as I lean down, lowering my face toward hers. “I’m going to unlock your secrets,” I growl, deep and low. “I’m going to discover every last one of them. Your body will betray you, and you’ll hate me for it. You’re going to want me, and you’re going to be ashamed of the fact. There’s no point trying to hide from the inevitable, though. There’s no point trying to deny me. You’re no longer Genevieve Kendrick. You’re Genevieve Bastien. Get used to the name. The whole of New Orleans will know it soon…”
