The Devil’s Bride

Chapter 5: Wedding Night Possession

Moore’s POV

The mansion was a palace of ice.

As the luxury Rolls-Royce pulled up to the massive glass-and-marble estate, my stomach dropped. Several sports cars were parked in the driveway, and through the huge windows, I could see movement inside. Beautiful, elite women in designer cocktail dresses or expensive silk lingerie were lounging around the living area like they owned the place. One was draped lazily over a couch, while another laughed loudly, pouring champagne, they looked like a private harem.

Standing at the front of the room, calmly checking a schedule on her tablet, was a sharp, striking woman with an aura of an authority.

I froze in the doorway, my heart dropping to my shoes.

Ethan noticed my shock and let out a low, mocking laugh. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at the woman with the tablet, who was now walking toward us with a cold, superior smirk.

“Surprised, little ballerina? Let me introduce you to the rules of my house,” Ethan whispered venomously against my ear. “This is Suzie. She is the head of my estate, and as of tonight, she is in total control of your life. You eat what Suzie approves. You wear what Suzie selects. If you want to breathe the air in this mansion, you ask her permission first. You might have my last name, but she holds your leash, she will teach you to be like the rest.”

Humiliation burned through my veins as Suzie stopped right in front of us, her eyes dragging down me with pure disgust. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Vance,” Suzie said, her voice dripping with fake politeness.

Ethan snapped his fingers sharply, and Suzie immediately signaled the other women to disperse upstairs. But the damage to my pride was already done. I wasn't a wife; I was an addition to his harem, and Suzie was my warden.

Ethan grabbed my wrist tightly and dragged me up the grand staircase...

“Welcome home, Mrs. Vance,” he said mockingly, pushing open the double doors to the master bedroom.

The room was massive, dominated by a king-sized bed with pitch-black silk sheets. Recessed lighting cast a dim, freezing glow over everything. There wasn't a single ounce of warmth in the entire space.

I stood frozen near the door in my heavy wedding dress, the flawless diamond ring burning like a brand on my finger.

Ethan slowly loosened his tie, his dark eyes locking onto me like a predator watching its prey. “On your knees. Take my clothes off. And do it properly. You’re beneath me, so you might as well start acting like it.”

My breath caught in my throat. My vision blurred. “Ethan… please. Can we just talk first?”

“On. Your. Knees,” he repeated, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Or I will drag you downstairs and let Suzie and the rest of the house watch while I f**k you. Would you prefer a public audience, cheap little dancer?”

Tears finally spilled over my eyelashes as I slowly sank to my knees on the cold marble floor. My hands shook violently as I reached for his shirt buttons, then his belt, pulling his trousers down until he was left in his dark boxer briefs. His body was perfectly sculpted and powerful, a physical reminder of his dominance over me.

“Good little servant,” he taunted, carelessly patting my head as if I were a stray dog. “At least you can follow basic instructions. Now get on the bed.”

He yanked me up by my arm and shoved me onto the silk sheets. The contrast between the luxury of the fabric and the raw humiliation of my situation made me feel physically sick.

“Take it off,” he ordered.

My fingers trembled so hard I could barely grasp the zipper at the back of the wedding dress. The white silk slid down my body and pooled on the mattress, leaving me in nothing but my white lace panties. I crossed my arms over my bare chest, my cheeks burning with intense shame.

Ethan’s gaze raked down my body, slow and critical. He stepped closer, towering over me. His expensive cologne mixed with the bitter scent of whiskey on his breath.

“A virgin?” he asked suddenly, his eyebrows raising in genuine amusement as he noticed my intense panic. “At twenty-four? You're joking.”

I couldn't look him in the eyes. I just gave a small, miserable nod.

A dark, cruel smile curved his lips, and he let out a mocking laugh that cut deeper than any physical blow. “What a tragic waste. Were you saving yourself for a fairytale husband, Moore? Did you think some prince was going to come rescue you from the slums? And instead, you had to sell it to me just to keep your family from rotting.”

The weight of his words crashed into me. A sob tore from my throat, and I choked on my own tears. He was stripping away my body, but he was destroying my soul first.

He gripped my chin roughly, forcing my tear-stained face up, and slammed his lips onto mine. His tongue forced its way into my mouth, erasing my breath. Before I could scramble away, he pinned my wrists flat against the mattress with one large hand, trapping me beneath his heavy frame.

“Ethan—wait—please—” I sobbed against his mouth.

“Shut up,” he growled, biting down hard on the sensitive skin of my neck. I cried out as a sharp pain flared through my shoulder. “You signed the contract. Your only job is to spread your legs whenever I demand it. You’re not a wife. You’re just a purchased whore.”

His free hand yanked my panties down, tearing the delicate lace. I gasped as the cool air hit my skin, leaving me completely naked and defenseless under a fully dressed man who looked at me with pure contempt.

He forced my thighs wide apart. His fingers found me immediately, stroking roughly and invasively. A loud sob escaped my lips as my body involuntarily reacted to the harsh friction.

“You’re wet already,” he mocked, sliding a thick finger inside me without any gentleness. “Your pathetic little mind is throwing a tantrum, but your body knows exactly what to do for a man of my status. Disgusting.”

“Please… I’m scared,” I wept openly, my chest heaving as the emotional breakdown completely took over. I felt entirely broken, ruined before he had even truly started.

“Good. You should be,” he whispered darkly, pulling his hand away.

I heard the sound of his briefs hit the floor. When I looked down through my tears, his length was thick, hard, and terrifying. I tried to close my legs in a desperate reflex, but he violently shoved them back open, settling his heavy weight between my knees.

“No—Ethan, please, give me a second—”

He gripped my hips with a bruising force and thrust into me in one brutal, unyielding stroke.

A sharp, blinding pain exploded through my lower body. I let out a ruined, guttural scream, my back arching violently off the mattress as he tore through my virginity. He was too big, too deep, and entirely merciless. He didn't give me a single second to adjust. He pulled back and slammed right back into me, establishing a punishing, heavy rhythm that made the massive bed shake.

“f**k,” he growled against my ear, his breath ragged. “So tight. This cheap little cunt is gripping me like it’s desperate for my money.”

Tears streamed down into my ears as I sobbed uncontrollably into the pillows. Every heavy thrust sent waves of sharp pain mixed with unwanted, terrifying sparks of physical pleasure. My body was betraying me, slicking around his brutal invasion against my will. I hated it. I hated the low, broken sounds escaping my throat. I hated that I couldn't stop my body from tightly wrapping around him.

I wept silently in my mind, the words breaking into a million pieces. I can survive this…

Ethan laughed darkly at my distress, pounding into me even faster. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the quiet, luxurious room. He reached between us, rubbing my center with a harsh, demanding friction that forced the physical pleasure to a breaking point.

“Look at you,” he taunted, his voice thick with dark lust. “Sobbing and creaming all over me. This is exactly what ten million dollars buys—a desperate, weeping ballerina who folds the second she’s treated like garbage. Pathetic.”

A shameful, intense orgasm tore through my body against my will. My walls clenched tightly around him as stars burst behind my eyes, leaving me gasping, completely broken, and sobbing into the dark sheets.

Ethan followed moments later with a deep, low groan, burying himself completely inside me as he spilled his hot release deep into my core. It felt like a final, permanent claim on my body.

He stayed heavy on top of me for a long moment, his chest heaving against mine. Then, he pulled out abruptly, leaving me sore, empty, and leaking his fluid onto the pristine black silk.

He stood up immediately, calmly fixing his clothes and adjusting his watch as if nothing had happened, while I lay there trembling, naked, and entirely used.

“Clean yourself up,” he said coldly, not even glancing back at the bed. “And get used to it. This is your life now. Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you watch while I f**k one of the real women downstairs.”

He walked toward the master bathroom, pausing with his hand on the door handle.

“Oh, and Moore?” His voice was pure ice. “Next time, I won’t stop just because you're crying.”

The heavy bathroom door clicked shut behind him.

I instantly curled into a tight ball on the cold silk sheets, pulling my bruised knees tight against my chest. The massive diamond ring glittered mockingly in the dim light. My body ached, my throat was raw from screaming, and my soul felt entirely broken.

But for the first time in my life, the mantra felt way too small to carry the heavy weight of what I had just lost.