Unwilling Pawn by Measha Stone

Chapter 12

Amelia

“You have to change, Amelia.” Maggie shook the dress she’d brought with her for me to wear during the final bill of sale. She must have known I wouldn’t go willingly, so she’d brought one of my favorite dresses she owned. An A-line cut, soft lilac dress with a deep neckline that flared out. She’d worn it to a wedding last summer, and I’d fallen in love with it. And now she used it against me.

“I thought you were my friend. You’re supposed to be on my side in all this.” I leaned my hip against the dresser and folded my arms.

She frowned. “I’m your best friend, and I’m on your side. I’m team Amelia all the way.” She draped the dress over the bed and sighed. “I know you don’t like him. And I know he looks terrifying. But I also know he’s not going to take no for an answer here.”

“I never once heard you talk about the Kaczmareks, but you seem to know a lot about them. What’s going on that you haven’t told me about?” Maggie and I told each other everything. We’d always been cousins, but since grammar school and the cool girls wouldn’t let us sit at their lunch table, we’d been thick as thieves. It wasn’t like her to hold out on me like this.

“I know stuff because my dad talks when he thinks I’m not paying attention,” she said simply. “Think about it this way, you either marry Christian and get to travel to New York, visit all the museums, the theater, Broadway, or you can marry old fart Sebastian Gorecki and live here in Chicago rotting away.”

“I don’t want either of those options.” I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and taking a deep breath. As much as I wanted to break down and sob myself sick, it wouldn’t get me anywhere. This was my reality, and I needed to see things for what they were and not what I wanted them to be.

“If this happened to you, what would you do?”

She scrunched up her lips. “I probably would have tried to run, like you did—only I’d probably get away,” she quickly added. “But you’re not me. You’re reasonable and responsible. And you have to admit, it’s not like he’s all that bad to look at.”

I felt a smile tugging on the corner of my lips. She wasn’t wrong.

“If you don’t do this, Amelia, Christian will make you. He’ll find a way to get it done with or without your cooperation,” Maggie whispered, gently laying her hands on my shoulders. “If he says it’s safer for you to get married right now, he means it. He’s a very protective man, and once you’re his wife, he’ll keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?” I asked nearing my breaking point. “I’m nobody. I’m nothing. What would I be in danger from?”

Maggie’s frown deepened. “I don’t know, but from what I know of Christian, he’s not a liar.”

“He’s an asshole,” I groaned.

“Probably, but not a lying asshole,” Maggie laughed. “We both know you don’t really have a choice here. And I trust Lukas; he trusts Christian, so…you know…that means I have to trust Christian too.”

I sighed again, tilting my head back and staring up at the ceiling. If the sky would have fallen on me at that moment, I would have thanked the stars. But instead, the little cracks in my resolve to completely lock myself away in the bedroom grew wider and wider until I found myself walking to the bed. I picked up the dress.

“Did you bring the strappy heels I like?”

* * *

Amelia

Five minutes.

Christian Kaczmarek gave me his full attention for five whole minutes while he repeated the scripted vows from the judge. The white haired, blushing-faced man stood in front of Christian’s desk while Christian stood beside me. Our shoulders touched, well, almost, and it was only because of the high heel of the sandals.

After I forced my way through the vows, Christian signaled the judge to wrap it up and we were done. Just like that. Papers were brought out and I was handed a pen. When I tried to read the documents, Christian jabbed the paper with his finger impatiently.

“Your father approved everything, and my attorney agreed,” he had said, as though that explained anything.

Once the mundane detail of us trading vows, pledging ourselves to each other for the rest of our natural born days was over, the judge hurried off and Christian disappeared with his brother and two other men I didn’t know.

“Well, that was—”

“Bullshit,” Maggie proclaimed. “Complete bullshit.”

“What did you think was going to happen? Sparklers and fireworks? This was a business transaction, Maggie. Now that he has whatever he needs, he’ll probably leave me in peace.” Which was a good thing. I could return to my normal existence.

She frowned. “He didn’t need to be such a coldhearted ass. I mean, why did he send Lukas to come get me if he was going to treat this whole thing like this?” She was getting herself worked up, and when she let herself go, there would be hell to pay somewhere.

I hugged her. “You’re more upset than I am. It’s fine. This is good. It will be a good reminder of what this marriage is.”

She shook her head. “He didn’t even kiss you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go find something to eat. I’m hungry.” I said, linking my arm through hers and leading her from his office. The deep voices of the men carried from the front hallway.

I dug out a block of cheese from the fridge along with a bowl of grapes and strawberries. After hunting down some crackers, I grabbed a bottle of white wine from the rack in the kitchen. Maggie and I settled at the kitchen island.

“Here you are.” Lukas entered the kitchen, taking one look at us and frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Eating,” Maggie said, shoving a cube of cheese into her mouth. “Your brother didn’t even think to have dinner after that shotgun ceremony.” The edge was back to her tone.

“I was hungry. Do you want some?” I offered, but Lukas shook his head.

“No, thanks.” Lukas stepped back against the wall.

Christian appeared, his eyes dark and his mouth tense until his eyes found mine. They went even darker.

“What are you doing in here?”

I gestured toward the cheese plate I’d tossed together. “Having my wedding feast. Is your meeting over?”

“It wasn’t a meeting,” he said, coming to stand at my side. Reaching across me, his arm brushed my shoulder, then my breast as he grabbed a piece of the cheese. A simple touch, nothing really, but my body heated.

He popped the cheese into his mouth and chewed slowly, keeping his gaze tied to mine.

“I had this dropped off.” He pulled a small black velvet box from his pocket. “They were late, otherwise you’d have it on by now.” He flipped it open to reveal a white gold band.

“You had that sent over?”

“It’s important you wear it.” He removed it from the box and picked up my right hand.

“Wait, it goes on the left.” I tugged, but he held fast.

“In Poland, the wedding band goes on the right hand,” he explained as he slipped the band over my finger. “It will be expected that you wear it there.” He pushed it over my knuckle and into place.

“And you?” I asked, looking at his hand. “Do you wear one?”

He raised a brow before cocking a grin. “No, I don’t need one.”

Heat traveled up my neck and across my face. Was he telling me that he would not be faithful? It wasn’t a thought I’d had until that moment, but once I imagined him with another woman, I felt anger bubbling up in me. While I was to remain loyal to him, he would make a fool of me.

“No, don’t argue with me.” He shook his head. “We can talk later.” He looked to Maggie. “Lukas is going to take you home now.”

“It’s fine, Maggie. I’m okay,” I promised her when she looked ready to argue with him. She narrowed her eyes but managed to keep her claws sheathed.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Maggie said as she slid off the stool. “I’ll call you first thing,” she threw over her shoulder as she walked off down the hallway.

“I don’t think your cousin trusts me,” Christian said.

The seriousness of his expression made me laugh.

“She has trust issues with men who kidnap women.”

He cocked an eyebrow higher. “She’ll get over it.”

“What does that mean?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about Maggie.”

“What do you want to talk about then?”

“I want to apologize.”

“Apologize?” This, I had to see.

“I was in such a hurry to get the ring from the delivery boy, that I didn’t kiss the bride once our vows were spoken,” he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You’re mine now, Amelia. No more protests, no more complaints.”

He ran the back of his hands across my cheeks until he framed my face with them. Cradling my head in his hands, he lowered his lips to mine, brushing them across my lips at first. A tentative touch, a soft nudge.

“My wife,” he growled, before his lips crashed down over mine, claiming me the only way he seemed to know how. I brought my hands to his chest, ready to fight him off, but he moved one hand beneath my hair and fisted the long curls. A warning.

One more tug, and my lips parted for him. Even my body obeyed the man without so much as a word being uttered. With the passage open, his tongue swept past my lips, taking full control of the moment—of me.

There was nowhere I could hide. He deepened the kiss, not allowing me to become passive. Instead, I found myself grabbing hold of his shoulders, and matching the pace he set.

“Upstairs. Now.” He growled against my lips before swooping me up into his arms and carrying me from the kitchen.

“I can walk,” I insisted, but he was already at the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“That fucking dress is too low cut. Your damn tits are about to fall out,” he complained, but licked his lips at the same time. “You’re never wearing it again. That fucking judge paid more attention to your breasts than he did the reading.”

Was that jealousy tinting his voice?

Once up the stairs, I expected him to take me to my room, but he stopped a door short and kicked the door open. We were in his room. With one shove of his foot, the door swept closed. He lowered me back to my feet.

“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest when he reached for the neckline. A man possessed, he looked ready to rip the dress from me. “It’s Maggie’s. Don’t ruin it.”

His jaw clenched. Like a kid being denied his favorite toy.

“Fine.” The tension in his eyes gave way to something else, something more sinister. “Take off the dress and anything else you have on under there and stand at the foot of the bed.”

A chill ran down my back, his eyes were so demanding as I reached behind me to unzip the dress. With the deep V-shape neckline in both the front and the back, it was easy enough to unzip myself without the embarrassment of ungraceful contortion.

The thick straps slid down my arms, exposing my breasts to his heady gaze. I bit hard on the inside of my cheek to keep myself focused on anything but his presence. Once over my hips, the dress slipped to the ground, creating a puddle of silk and lace. Stepping out, I bent to pick it up before it could crease, but his foot clamped down on the pile. He dragged the dress away from me and scooped it up himself.

“Your panties, Amelia. I want to see all of you.” He gestured toward me with his chin.

I steeled myself again. Why did every moment near him create such intense havoc within me? I barely knew this man, but when he looked at me that way—with white hot desire, I knew exactly what he wanted. And worse—I craved to give it to him.

Hooking my thumbs into the elastic of the white lace panties, I dragged them over my hips and dropped them to the floor. There was no graceful way to grab them, so I kicked them away with my foot.

“Good.” He brought the dress to the dark mahogany dresser and draped it across the top, careful to lay it flat. “Bring your hands behind your head and lace them,” he directed while shaking out of his suit jacket.

“Why?” I asked, my hands frozen at my sides.

He looked over his shoulder at me, his eyebrows high. “Because I told you to.”

Electricity skated over my skin. My head wanted me to rebel, to tell him to take his high-handed ways and fuck off, but my head wasn’t in control anymore. Slowly, I raised my arms, doing as he said, and laced my fingers behind my head.

Although I had already been naked, in this new position, I was completely exposed. Vulnerable.

With his back to me, he removed his dress shirt, then his undershirt, tossing them both in a crumpled heap on the floor beside the dresser. He toed off his shoes and kicked them away, discarding his black socks with them.

It was easy, holding the position with his back to me, but when he turned around and his piercing eyes hit me, I trembled. He brought his hands to his belt, slowly unbuckling it, then tugging on it until it pulled free from the loops.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my hands starting to fall.

“Uh, uh, keep your hands where I told you to.” He doubled the belt, palming the buckle.

He stalked toward me, the belt swaying at his side as he quickly invaded the space between us. Just as he reached me, my courage gave way, and I took a step back. The wooden frame of the bed hit my ass, reminding me I had nowhere to go. Even if I was to escape him right that moment, he’d have me dragged right back into his room.

We were married now. I’d said my vows. I’d been the dutiful daughter. There was no one coming to save me now.

“Are you frightened?” He brought his left hand up to my breast, running the back of his knuckles over my hardened nipple.

“No,” I said too quickly. He saw right through my lie and chuckled. He stroked my nipple, then quickly snatched it between his thumb and middle finger.

“Try again, Amelia. Tell me the truth. Are you frightened?” He leaned closer to ask.

“Ow!” I tried to bend forward, to lessen the pain he created when he pulled my nipple toward himself. “It hurts. You’re hurting me.”

“I’ll let go when you tell me the truth,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Are you frightened?”

“Of you?” I winced. The sharp pain morphed into a dull heat, spreading across my chest and down my body. I clenched my fingers together tighter, afraid he’d find more ways to punish me if I let them loose.

“Me. And what I’m going to do to you.” He twisted his grip, sending hot tingles through me.

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” I stomped my foot into the lush carpeting. It made no sound, but he looked amused, nonetheless.

“You don’t know if you’re frightened?”

“No, I mean…” I tried to pull my face away from him, it was too hard to think with him right there. I could smell his spiced aftershave. The warmth of his bare chest radiated against my shoulder. He was too close. “I mean, I know you won’t hurt me.” I rested my head on his shoulder when he leaned it toward me.

He pressed a soft kiss to my head, the tenderness in direct contrast to the fierceness of his fingers.

“Good girl. I’m going to let go now and it’s going to burn, but I’ll make it better soon.”

I nodded against his shoulder. It took all my strength to focus on the sensations his fingers caused. I wanted him to stop, to let me go, but I also wanted him to go harder, twist more, pull sharper. I wanted that bite of pain to renew now that it had dulled.

He opened his fingers, letting my nipple go. White hot pain coursed through my breast, giving me exactly what I had wanted. But it didn’t deter my need, it only made me crave it all the more.

“Did you like that?” he asked, petting my breast with his fingertips. “Did you like the pain?”

I curled my toes into the carpet. I could not give him the answer he wanted. The humiliation would kill me.

“I already know the answer, Amelia,” he said with an unspoken warning. “I can smell your pussy from here. You’re soaking wet and hungry for more.”

I groaned, pulling away from him and keeping my eyes down. My fingers ached and my shoulders stiffened.

“But you have to tell me. If I have to stuff my fingers into your tight pussy to get my answer, you’ll pay with five licks of my belt.” He tapped my thigh with the leather strap he held in his right hand.

I’d forgotten about that.

“I almost hope you lie to me,” he whispered. “Now, give me your eyes, and answer me. Did you like the pain?”

I swallowed my fear, my pride, and my courage as I lifted my eyes to meet his. The darkness I found there comforted me in unexpected ways. It was his own desire that made him so fierce, not his anger.

“Yes, Christian. I think I did like it,” I answered truthfully. I needed time to unpack it, to play with it in my mind. Pain wasn’t supposed to be pleasureful. I had it all backwards.

“Have you been fucked before?” he asked, pulling my hands from my head and tucking them at my sides.

My face heated with his question. Apparently, he enjoyed finding new ways to embarrass me. At the ripe age of twenty-two, I’d had exactly three boyfriends. Tommy had been the last boyfriend, and my first—and only.

“I’ve had sex, yes,” I answered, wishing I could tear myself away from his gaze.

His jaw tensed. “I didn’t ask that, I asked if you’ve been fucked.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked.

The tension eased and a cocky grin pulled at his lips. “If you don’t know, then you haven’t been.”

My inexperience was obvious. One more thing for him to look down on me for.

“Climb on the bed, Amelia. Lay on your back and spread your legs wide. Show me your pussy, show me what’s mine.” He dropped the belt onto the mattress behind me. “If you disobey me, you’ll get five lashes,” he warned when I froze.

“Are you always going to threaten me with a beating if I don’t move fast enough for you?” I asked as I climbed onto the massive bed. His bed was at least two feet higher off the ground than the one in my room. Thankfully, I managed to get up on it without having to step on something. Though I think he would have gotten even harder if he’d seen me embarrass myself further.

He rounded the bed to the side as I laid onto my back.

“I don’t beat women, Amelia.” He leaned over the bed, grabbing my left leg and yanking it toward him. Taking the hint, I moved my right leg to match. “I won’t ever beat you,” he said, unbuttoning his slacks. I turned my gaze up at the ceiling, feeling every bit the condemned being ready for execution.

He climbed onto the bed, settling himself between my legs. With a quick glance down, his cock came into view. Thick and long, it hovered over my body. Tommy did not look like that when we’d had sex. I swallowed and made a vow to myself. No matter what happened, I would not cry out. I would not give him the satisfaction of making any noise. I would get this over with and be done with it.

Crawling up the length of my body, his warm skin pressed against mine until he reached my face.

“I will never beat you, but I will punish you. Sometimes I’ll spank you, sometimes I’ll use my belt, but you will always know why, and you will always be safe.” He spoke as though he was making a new set of vows, different than the ones we repeated for the judge. “I will keep you safe from my enemies and yours. I will provide for you always. And I will never fail you.”

I blinked, unsure of what I was supposed to say in return. I didn’t mistake any of that for endearment or affection. It was a man of power, promising to show his power at every turn. But he would use it to keep me safe. To keep me protected.

“Promise me,” he said, slipping his hand between our bodies until he found my wetness. Pleasure zipped up my spine at the first touch of his finger to my clit. “Promise me you’ll be my good girl. You’ll always obey me.”

I bit my lip. I couldn’t make that promise. It would be a lie.

Two of his fingers slid down through my folds and plunged into my pussy. I tensed. He spread his fingers open, then closed, as though getting me ready for his cock to plunge into me.

“Promise me, Amelia.” He leaned down and kissed me, stealing my breath and my resolve with the deepness, the intensity of his kiss. Curling his fingers like he did the night before, he stole my train of thought. Promise him? Anything, so long as he didn’t stop.

“Say it. Say you’ll be my good girl. No, my obedient girl. Tell me,” he growled against my lips as his thumb brushed against my clit.

“Okay,” I nodded, bumping my chin with his. “I’ll be your obedient girl.” I grabbed hold of his shoulders, digging my fingers into his muscles and raising my hips from the bed. With him lying on me the way he was, I couldn’t get very far.

He chuckled against my cheek while peppering me with little kisses, making his way up to my earlobe, where he bit down. It was a hot button, the bite of pain shooting straight to my clit.

“Keep your hips down for me.” He removed his fingers, leaving me void and wanting and used both hands to press my hips down. “Open your legs wide for me, Amelia. I need to get inside of you.” He brought his eyes level with mine. “It might hurt, but you’ll take it for me, right? You’ll be good and take the pain I give you.”

Like a starstruck fool, I nodded. I wanted it, I craved it, and only he would give it to me.

The thick, round head of his cock pressed against my opening. I was slick and hot for him.

“I won’t be gentle.” It was a promise. We barely knew each other, but in this way, he knew me better than I did.

He grabbed hold of my hands, raising them over my head and pinning them to the pillow surrounding me. I planted my feet on the bed, ready to take him, ready to take whatever he gave me.

One thrust, fast and powerful, and he was completely embedded inside of me. His kiss swallowed my scream. I stretched around his thick shaft, but still I ached.

“No…don’t wiggle.” He bit my lower lip. “If you wiggle…oh, fuck.” He pulled back almost all the way before thrusting forward. Again, he stretched me, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I brought my knees up higher, taking him deeper inside of me, tightening around him.

“Juzus Chrystus!” he groaned. I didn’t know many Polish words, but I could understand when a man cried out to his savior. His hands tightened around mine and he plowed into me, deeper and faster. His hips ground into my clit, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Christian!” I cried out as the warmth in my belly spread lower, intensified with each thrust of his cock.

“Such a good girl.” He released my left hand and hooked his right arm beneath my knee, driving my bent leg even closer to my chest. This position deepened his thrusts even more, and soon the burn returned.

“Oh, please. I have to come, please, Christian.” Every fiber in my body seemed to freeze, waiting for his reply.

He looked down at me, pupils dilated, a sexy smile on his lips. “Come for me, sweet girl, come hard for your husband.” He thrust again, rocking the bed forward. The headboard hit the wall, but it didn’t stop him. Again and again he thrust into me, hitting every right spot until the lights in the room spun out of control.

With each wave of pleasure, I yelled out my husband’s name. With my free hand, I grabbed his shoulder, arching my body up toward him. I chased down every drop of pleasure, leaving me breathless.

He released my right hand and used his free hand to pin down my hip. Effectively trapped, he drove his cock into me even harder. A man obsessed, he fucked me faster and faster, his lips pinching together as he chased down his own release.

One thrust, then another, then he stilled, his cock stretching me as his release overwhelmed him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, jerking and cursing again as his cock twitched inside my pussy, filling me with his hot come. His hand eased up on my hip, and slowly he dropped my leg back to the mattress as he sucked in heavy breaths.

I brushed away a thick patch of hair that had fallen over his forehead. He tensed at my gentle touch, bringing his gaze back to mine. I traced his jawline, the same action he’d done to me several times, feeling his stubble. Such a tense man, so much power locked up for him to yield, and so much of the world on his broad shoulders.

I touched his lips, then dropped my hand back to my side.

“I’m going to get a towel,” he said, averting his gaze from me while he slipped from my body. As his cock left my pussy, his warm come spilled out of me, sliding down between my ass cheeks.

“No, stay still.” He pointed at me when I started to roll to the side. “The sooner you’re carrying my son, the better.”

I blinked, letting his words sink in. He walked to the attached bathroom, snagging his boxers from the floor on his way. He wanted me pregnant? And soon?

When he returned his hands were empty.

“The towel?” I asked, laying my arm over my chest. The room had grown cold with his words.

“It was for me,” he explained, pulling back the covers of the bed. “I like the idea of my wife wearing my come on her thighs.”

The hard, callous man had returned.

“Get under the blankets so you can get some rest.”

“I can go back—”

“We’re married now, Amelia. Your place is in my bed.” He pointed. “Get in.”

Too tired and annoyed to argue, I climbed beneath the blankets. As soon as he tucked the blankets up to my chin he began pulling on his pants.

“You don’t need to rest?” I asked, half teasing. It was early evening, I shouldn’t be taking a nap so late in the day, but I could use a few minutes before going back downstairs. I needed to shower and change into real clothes.

He buttoned his shirt, then ran his hands through his hair. “No.” He grabbed the suit jacket and slung it around his shoulders, stuffing his arms into the sleeves. “Stay up here. There’s a tv room through that door and I can have some food brought up if you’re hungry later.”

I sat up, fisting the blankets beneath my chin. “I’ll be fine.”

He took a deep breath, staring at me as though he wanted to say something else. But he shook whatever it was out of his mind.

“Good night, Amelia,” he said, and left the room before I had a chance to respond.

Fucked and put out of sight. There had to be more to life than this.