Page 46 of Beautifully Forgiven

“And me? What do I deserve?” she murmurs softly.

Lifting my hand, I wrap it around her face, running my thumb over her lip.

“Me, kitten. You deserve me,” I say, smiling. Tugging her along with me, she looks up at me when we stop at the door.

“Don’t look so scared, kitten, for once it’s you not being punished.” I smirk when she lets out a panicked sound.

Opening the door, Savannah gasps upon seeing Marcel tied to a chair. His head slowly lifts when he hears us.

He begins to struggle in the chair, fighting against the restraints holding him in place.

Covering her mouth, Savannah tries her best to keep the strangled gasps from leaving her from the shock of seeing his face bruised and battered, I’m sure.

She turns, feeling the heat of my gaze. “You did that?” I nod. Looking back at him she studies him for a moment.

“Kitten, I’d like you to meet Marcel.” She turns her head toward me, confusion spreading across her face.

“This is the man your father planned to marry you off to.”

“No,” she whispers.

“Oh, yes, kitten. This man would have been your husband, actually today was supposed to be your wedding day.” I smile at her when she looks at Marcel and then back to me.

“Why is he here?” she asks.

“He’s going to watch as I claim you because we both know you’re mine, aren’t you, kitten?” I say, placing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She nods. Marcel grunts, his frustrations about Savannah clear.

He’ll never have her.

And now he gets to watch as I take his bride and then I’ll take his life.

Savannah shivers as I trail my fingers across her skin. Kissing her shoulder blade, my lips brush over her skin one last time before slowly sliding my hands down her body. Reaching for the shirt she’s wearing, I grab the material between my fingers and pull it up and over her head, tossing it to the ground.

Marcel grunts as Savannah is exposed to him.

“Isn’t she perfect?” I ask him. Glaring at me, Marcel twists in the chair, straining against his ties.

Savannah exhales as my fingers move over her ribs and down her stomach.

Kissing the side of her neck, I move my fingers over her panties. She moans as my fingers brush against her but tenses a second later.

“I’m bleeding,” she whispers, hiding herself in my chest.

“I don’t care, kitten.” I look up at Marcel whose eyes are on the verge of exploding from anger. Good, he can watch what he’ll never get to have.

“It’s time, princess,” I tell her.

“I-I don’t understand,” Savannah murmurs.

“Tell Marcel how it feels to havemyfingers inside you, to havemytouch,” I say loud enough for him to hear.

“G-good, it feels good,” her muttering turns into a moan as I slip a finger inside her.

“How good?” I ask as I add a second finger.

“Oh, argh, so. Oh God,” Savannah whimpers as my fingers move inside her. Touching my other hand to her cheek I stroke it while Marcel growls around his gag.

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