The Lord’s Forced Bride +21

Chapter 4

ANDREAS

Tonight, in the coldness of the stone walls, I struggle with my thoughts before falling asleep. I fought the English for years. I lost my family, my friends, my relatives. Now, by royal decree, I must marry an English lady. Isn't that funny?

The first time I saw her, she stood timid and foreign, like a bird that had been exiled. How dare she set foot on this land? I was furious. But when I realized she was also reluctant, my anger took on a different form. So she doesn't want to submit to her fate either.

I kept my eye on her along the way. I waited for her to fall, to give up. But she was stubborn. Even when she almost stumbled, she pulled herself together. What was that feeling surging inside me at that moment? Admiration? Anger? Perhaps both.

When I spoke in the village, I wanted to scream out the pain inside me. I wanted to ask, "Do you know what the English did to my family?" But what difference would it make if I asked? He would try to defend himself. He didn't start this war. But I still hate him. Seeing the unease in his eyes gives me a bitter satisfaction.

I can guess how they will receive him in the clan. Everyone will say, "The daughter of our enemy." Since he's here for so-called peace, what can he do to extinguish the fire of vengeance in my heart? Still, his gaze sometimes intrigues me. I sense something strange in his eyes. Will I take revenge on him for all the things I've lost, or will I obey my king and keep my word?

I think to myself, "Tomorrow is the wedding." A forced ceremony, with everyone's eyes on us. Who knows, maybe all this nonsense will prevent a bigger war. I must make this sacrifice for the future of my family and my clan. But my heart is full of anger and rage. That English girl had better not beg for mercy from me for a single moment. I will show no mercy.

I started drinking in the darkness of the night. Peace... How much pain must we endure to learn the meaning of that word again? Perhaps I will never fully understand it.

And then I found myself in her room.

***

ELENA

When night fell, I was startled by the sound of footsteps echoing among the castle stones. Someone was approaching my room. There was a knock at the door. The person who entered was Andreas. His black cloak was still on his shoulders, his eyes like a dark dungeon. Without needing to speak, his gaze wandered over me. He held a wine jug in his hand, along with two glasses.

“I know you were waiting for me,” he said in a deep voice. “Am I wrong, Lady Elena?” He was drunk… Damn it!

I didn't answer. Because whenever I spoke, he became even angrier. And tonight, I had to get him out of my room without provoking him. That is, if I could keep my mouth shut.

I averted my gaze. He, however, walked in with heavy steps, placed the decanter on the table. He was as comfortable as if this were his own room.

“You look rested, but tonight I’ll tire you out, my lady.”

I swallowed. “I can’t let you stay here tonight… we’re not married yet.”

He smiled. "Permission? Lady Elena, your 'permission' doesn't apply here. This is my domain, and you are now my wife... or my property. Or should I say my booty?" That bastard lord was belittling me again!

He took slow steps. The distance between us was closing. My heart began to race wildly, but I tried not to let it show.

“Are you trying to humiliate me?” I said coldly.

“No,” he said. “I’m just reminding you of the truth. This marriage won’t be just on paper.”

He took another step. His eyes were locked on mine. I felt crushed under his gaze, but I didn't back down.

"Don't play games with me, Lord Andreas," I said quietly. "I am not yet your wife, nor am I your property. Booty, perhaps... Even if I am seen as spoils of war in everyone's eyes, I will not bow down to you. You cannot tarnish my honor!"

My words didn't anger him; on the contrary, they seemed to interest him even more. "Do you think English nobility will save you! Take it or leave it! I have the right to f**k you every night, every hour I want, until you pass out! Get that into your head! Don't argue with me, English w***e!"

“I’m not a w***e,” I breathed angrily. “Speak to me properly, Lord Andreas! Or I’ll lose my temper too!”

"Aren't you a w***e? Half of those milk-white t**s are hanging out, and you're not a w***e, huh? What about those painted pink lips! Who's showing off every inch of themselves to get attention? I bet many people have f****d that pretty mouth of yours with pleasure! Tell me, how many times have those English bastards f****d you?"

When drunk, you become even more unbearable and disgusting!

“Did you drink that liquor with your ass instead of your mouth? I'm telling you this so you know: I haven't been with anyone! Only my husband can do what you're talking about. When we get married, you'll find out if I'm a w***e or a virgin!”

“You’re a virgin, you say… That’s an unexpected claim from an English lady!”

“It’s not a claim—it’s the truth!”

“I’m convinced you gave yourself to English bastards without losing your virginity. I’m sure those who shoved their tools into your ass and mouth in that big palace are crying now that you’re gone!”

“What are you talking about? That’s too much! Get out of my room!”

“No problem, my lady! After you give me an heir, it doesn’t matter who used your body before me! But from now on, you’re mine!”

“I’m telling you this for the last time, Lord Andreas! I’m a virgin, and I’ve never had anything to do with men in the way you’re suggesting!”

This time he approached and filled one of the glasses. He took one for himself and one for me. “Then take a glass, let’s celebrate my wife’s sanctity.”

I didn’t take the glass. I looked at him with disgust.

We locked eyes for a few seconds. Neither of us spoke. In the silence, we stared at each other like two enemies trying to kill one another.

Suddenly, he pressed his lips against mine. Grabbing me by the neck, he pulled my lower lip between his lips and began to suck on it. I was shocked. Someone was kissing me for the first time, and it was my future Scottish husband!

I tried to resist him, tried to push him away from my chest and pull away from his lips, but he had such a tight grip on my neck that I couldn't move. As his tongue moved over my lips, I started to panic at the bulge pressing against my stomach. He wasn't going to wait until tomorrow...

When he pulled away from my lips, I gasped for breath. “Don’t…” I said, terrified.

“Soon you’ll be begging me to f**k you, Lady Elena… Be patient…” he growled.

Me beg him? “I’ll never beg for such a thing!”

“I admire your courage, my lady! But I also trust my experience—I can see how passionate a woman you are in your eyes!”

"You're wrong! I've never had any desire for such things! Let me go, Lord Andreas!" I tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed me by the waist and pressed me against his body.

“Your words are deceitful, my lady! You started trembling the moment I kissed you! Fear won’t save you! I’ll taste you tonight!”

“We’re not married yet! You have no right to do this!”

“You are my property, my lady! Resist in vain!”

As he looked into my eyes, I could no longer tell what was hatred and what was desire. My breathing was uneven, my heart felt like it would burst from my chest. I pressed my hand against his chest, trying to push him away, but he acted as if my body belonged to him.

“Take your hands off me!” I said, my voice trembling. But he only raised his eyebrows with a mocking smile.

“You don’t even know what you need, Lady Elena. But I do…”

I shivered as his breath licked my cheek and trailed down my neck. God… This feeling… Was it hatred, fear, or something much darker? I didn’t want him, but his touch set my body on fire. What kind of curse was this?