Page 30 of Coercion

I get up, walking to the bathroom and come back with the first aid kit. Carefully, I clean up the cuts on her ankles, then stick a plaster on both. She winces, letting out a gasp when I apply the antiseptic wipe but beyond that, she makes no movement.

“Has he done that before?” I ask, looking at the obvious mark on her face.

“Done what?” She whispers.

“Hit you.”

She meets my gaze then drops it, shrugging like it doesn’t matter.

“You’re my wife now.” I state. “No one will lay one hand on you from now on without facing the consequences.”

She lets out a little huff like she doesn’t believe me and, before I can think not to, I wrap my body around hers. She freezes, her body going stiff as a board. It’s as if she’s expecting me to pin her down and do whatever I want.

Like I’ve not been dreaming of doing exactly that.

Carefully, I stroke her hair back. I can still smell that stink but underneath it I can smell something else, something softer, more feminine. Something I think I’d give my soul just to have a taste of.

My dick is so hard it hurts. A voice in my head is screaming at me to throw all logic out the window and just claim my wife the way any other man would in this situation. I should at least beat her ass, punish her in some way for what she’s done, but even that I can’t bring myself to do.

I trace my fingers down the bare skin of her arm, watching as she erupts into goosebumps.

“Why did you run?” I ask as calmly as I can.

She sniffs but doesn’t answer.

“Ruby?”

Again, nothing but silence.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” I growl.

“You don’t want to help me.” She barely speaks above a whisper and yet I hear every syllable.

“What makes you say that?”

She buries her face more as if she’s too afraid to reply and my anger spikes again.

I yank her around, forcing her onto her back and though I know her tits are right there, bared for me, I keep my eyes on her face, though it practically kills me to do it.

“Tell me, Ruby. Just fucking tell me.”

“You think I wanted this?” She suddenly screams. “You think I wantedherlife?”

“Whose?”

“My mother’s.”

I frown at those words. What the fuck is she talking about?

“She didn’t want to marry my father either.” She gasps. “But she did it. She pretended. She acted as she was expected to and what did she get for it? Nothing but pain, nothing but misery, and then my uncle murdered her.”

“Your life will not be like hers.”

“No?” She scoffs. “It’s already starting out the same. Forced marriage…”

I cup her cheek and she falls silent. “I know you didn’t want this, but I promise you, I’m on your side.”

She shakes her head, shutting her eyes, but the tears begin to stream down her cheeks anyway.

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