EroticReverie

Angelina Ares

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife, you may kiss the bride." 

I turn to my now husband. Kane King. There's probably a million women that would want to marry the six foot five, sharp jawed , chiseled cheekboned, black haired, green eyed, self labeled panty dropper in front of me. But I wasn't one of them. 

He smirks at me, and the last thing I want to do is kiss him, when I'd much rather slap him. Who gets married at eighteen years old to a grimey bastard that selected me like a fucking car out of a lot. My father handing over the proverbial keys and signing the fucking deal, signing my fucking life away to a man, just like him. Dirty, dangerous and power hungry. That's all I was, a piece in the game. That's all any of the girls born into families like mine were. Bartering chips. Breeding stock for these fucking bastards to carry on their fucking bloodlines, and keep their little fucked up secret society running. Making us pop out babies, just so they could grow up and become entitled rich assholes, that did whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. 

The church is enormous, and packed with several society members, all watching one of their born whores, promise her honor and loyalty to one of their born bastards. 

Kane steps closer and I clench my jaw, trying to hide the look of anger on my face. He knows I don't want to fucking marry him. So does everyone else, probably. Does anyone fucking care though? Nope. Because this is my fucking duty in their eyes. To obey this fucking man that waited till I was eighteen to decide he was ready to take a wife. He'd chosen me, two fucking years ago. When I was sixteen. I'd had two years to prepare to marry this fucking asshole. It still wasn't enough. So now here I am, married...my wedding day, and my fucking birthday all in one. Because Kane King wasn't a man who would wait a single day longer than he had to, to own me. 

Kane lifts his hand and slides it behind my neck and right in front of the hundreds of people gathered, he grabs my hair at the nape of my neck and pulls it back and leans down, stealing his kiss. It's not the kiss you see in the fucking movies, or see in normal fucking ceremonies. This is a kiss to claim me, to embarrass me, humiliate me and show the entire fucking church that he got what he wanted. Kane groans against my mouth and lifts his other hand.

"Open your fucking mouth" he growls quietly against my lips and I part them, his tongue shoving into my mouth, claiming me in front of the society, and a god none of them truly fucking believe in. Because if they did, they wouldn't do the shit that they do. The wouldn't torture people. Ruin lives. They wouldn't rape women , or cheat on their chosen wives. They wouldn't kill people. 

There's fucking golf claps coming from the pews as Kane kisses me like we're in a fucking porno.  I leave my tongue limp and I hiss as he bites my lip and then Kane groans. 

"I can't wait to fuck you" he whispers with a grin as he pulls back, everyone still clapping. My nose flaring as I narrow my eyes at him. 

-------

It's several hours later, after the "Reception" , which didn't have dancing, or music, it was just a fucking gathering of elitist assholes, telling each other how amazing they were, all of them all but jerking off to one another for being disgustingly rich. Kane King and his family, being the second wealthiest family of the society. I'm "lucky" my father says. To have had Kane choose me. Yes, oh so lucky.

We're in Kane's obnoxious mansion on billionaires row. Half the block are local society member homes. He's in his disgustingly oversized bed, and I've just walked out of his massive bathroom, in the fucking lingerie he picked out. I could either participate, or be raped. I knew the fucking deal. I knew what was expected on wedding nights, especially what was expected of me, being that the man sitting on the bed, naked with his hard dick in his hand, had been waiting two years to fuck me. 

My blonde hair is down, like he told me to wear it. My blue eyes looking at his green ones. His eyes going to my d cup breasts. He grins, stroking himself, looking me up and down, over and over. I'm wearing nothing but white lace crotchless panties he chose, and bought specifically for tonight, and the white six inch heels he placed along side them. Apparently, my new husband wasn't a man that liked mystery.

In another type of life, i'd be able to see Kane King as probably one of the worlds most beautiful men. But knowing who he is, what he does, knowing that he's a figure in this sick and twisted and misogynistic society we're both a part of , ..I'm not able to see anything other than a rich entitled bastard, and he, doesn't see me, as anything other than his property.

"You were worth the wait" he says, licking his lips as I just stand there, contemplating kicking off these ridiculous shoes and making a break for it. But I know it's pointless. I'd either be caught right away, or caught eventually, and then either punished or killed. By either my husband himself, or the society for disrespecting their "values". I wouldn't even put it past my own father to off me himself for bringing shame to him. He already wasn't pleased with how resistant I've been, even more so in the months leading up to today. But, it's been done. No amount of begging, or trying to negotiate my own future, would change his mind. I didn't bother crying when begging, tears were weakness, and they only would have pissed him off. But i did cry, many times, alone in my room, knowing my fate was sealed the second my mother gave birth to me.  I'm nothing but a plaything now. Owned by Kane King. To fuck as he pleases, his to yell at, his to hit, his to punch if he so pleases. I don't doubt he's the type to hit a woman just because he can. The kind to leave a bruise for every "mistake" I make. 

The only thing I have to be thankful for, is that my father was obsessed with me keeping my hymen till I was eighteen. It was disgusting, the way some of the men obsessed over a woman in the society being "pure" and "untainted" for her husband. Because they all believed, as men of the society, of status and power, they deserved only the best. Which was a  fertile, virgin, to turn into their breeding whore. Some of the girls are married as early as sixteen to the men that choose them. That was the only blessing in any of this. That my father thought it made me worth more, made HIM worth more, and look better, to have a daughter that kept her hymen till she was eighteen. 

I should be scared , since it's my first time. Part of me is a little afraid, but I've been prepared for this night ever since I was fucking ten years old...because apparently that's an appropriate age for a mother and father to sit their daughter down, and tell her she's nothing more than a prize for some man. It was sick, the way we were groomed for it. Told that the man is always right, the man always should have what he wants, be kept happy, and be pleased by his wife in everyway. 

Yet, as my husband, he could fuck me, or not fuck me, he could let the entire society fuck me if he chose. And I was expected to do it. Expected to be a whore, in whatever way he chooses. Not all men shared their wives. But it was common. And once I learned about that, all the society men that would come in and out of our home, my mother disappearing with sounds coming from her bedroom, I knew my father was one of the ones that chose to pimp his wife out for free to his friends, to men he hardly even knew. Or as they would say , "share" her. My mother was no help, she was brainwashed and believed in her place at my fathers side. She did her part, giving him three sons, my older brothers, and then me. My mother pumped children out for him till he deemed it enough of a contribution to the society. He fucked her and bred her for four years straight pretty much, keeping her pregnant for four fucking years.  Arthur is 21, the oldest, Anthony 20, Alexander 19, and me..eighteen. 

"Turn around, slowly, let me look at my wife." he groans, stroking his cock as I turn slowly. Listening to him groan as he checks out his "prize". 

"Get over here, on the bed, come here" he says when I finish turning and I walk over to the bed, his eyes going to my tits as I crawl onto the massive bed. Crawling towards him as he  sits there, leaning against his massive headboard, taking his last name literally, thinking he's some kind of actual king. 

"Mmm" he groans as I move up his legs and between them, my eyes on him, not afraid of him. Just disgusted. 

His legs shift slightly together as he lets me straddle him, his hands going to my waist. 

I lift my hand to my mouth, licking my fingers, collecting saliva to smear between my lips and ready myself for him. His jaw clenches and his nostrils flare as he grabs my hand before I'm able to make myself wet for him. 

"What do you think you're doing?" he growls, and I blink.

"I...I should be wet...right?" I ask, confused. I already knew I should be, that it made it more enjoyable for him, easier to fuck me. Unless, he preferred to feel my lack of arousal. Maybe he was a sick one, that enjoyed the feeling of truly raping the unwilling. 

"yes, you should be." he growls. "But you're not going to cheat Angelina...you're going to get wet for me the real way." he groans and then slides his hands up to my tits and cups them, groping them with a groan. I wipe my hand on the bed as he slides one hand up my back and then sits up and leans over as he leans me back and, starts to kiss my collarbone. 

He was sorely mistaken if he thought he was going to fucking turn me on. Did what he was doing, feel good? Yes. But my disgust for him, for all of them , over powered any inkling of enjoyment. 

I watch him kiss my breasts, watch his tongue flick over my nipple, then the other, they harden, but not because I'm turned on. Just because, that's what they fucking do when they're touched, but he grins like he's so fucking proud of himself , as if he's excited me. 

I want to throw up. I wish I would, all over him, just to show him how much he does the exact opposite of turn me on.

"You like that?" he groans, and sucks my nipple into his mouth and groans. 

"Sure." I say and his brows pinch and his lips pop off my breast.

"Sure? ...Sure?" he repeats himself. I shrug and he glares at me. 

His hand reaches down between my legs and I jump slightly as he slips his fingers between my pussy lips, dragging his fingers through my flesh to search for what he expects to be there, except it's not there. There's nothing for him to find, other than the natural heat and natural wetness, which isn't much , and he seems to know that whatever IS there, isn't FOR him...it's just my fucking body, unimpressed, and uninterested. 

"Why aren't you wet?" his jaw ticks.

"I can make myself wet for you, I was going to." I say and his chest rumbles. 

"do you need me to rub your clit? hmm?" he asks, stroking his fingers over it.

I just sit there, perched on him as I straddle him, hands on his shoulders, looking at him, with no reaction as his fingers rub my clit in circles, and he groans to himself. 

His finger slides down and back to my pussy, feeling around, dipping the tip of his finger inside and growling. 

"Angelina" he growls in frustration when he finds that he's still had no success in turning me on. 

"I told you I can-"

"No" he bites out cutting me off. 

"I'm not fucking a fake wet pussy." He growls, and surprises me as he pushes me off to the side. Why does he even care?

"why does it even matter, it's all the same"  I say and he shoots me a look.

"when I fuck you Angelina...you'll want it." he says and I exhale, nearly laughing.

"Then i guess you won't be fucking your wife ever." I mutter and he growls, turning and grabbing my waist as I yelp as he moves over me. His hand slips under my back, and he lifts it and then slides me down flat onto my back. I breathe hard, from nervousness, thinking he's about to rape me, to punish me for being rude to him , for disrespecting him. Good, it will give me more reason to hate him.

But Kane King doesn't do that, he, brings his mouth to my neck, kissing it, groaning against my skin.

"You can be a defiant little brat with me, all you want Angelina...but I WILL fuck my wife" he growls. 

"and when I do, it will be because we both want it." he growls at me. 

"I'll never want you"  I hiss, angrily. This fucking man was delusional and I was pressing my luck. He could haul off and smack me, beat the shit of me for NO reason, yet I was giving him reason to, and all he did...was keep kissing my neck, my collar bone, down over my tits.

"That's a shame Angelina...because I've wanted you for years" he groans against my neck. 

"Just waiting to make you my wife..counting down the days for two fucking years" he growls and kisses my breasts. I watch , his mouth sucking them gently and his hard dick hangs between our bodies as he hovers. 

"I can give you a hand job...or a blow job." I say, just wanting wanting his mouth off me. 

"Do you WANT to suck my cock Angelina?" he lifts his head, brow cocking. 

I just look at him. Blankly. Is this guy for real? Why would I want to touch him at all? 

"I'm not interested in a pity suck Angelina." he growls. 

"nor do I want your sympathetic hand tugging at my dick" he glares at me. 

"It's not pity, or sympathy." I say plainly.

"Then what is it?" he clenches his teeth.

I hadn't lied to him yet, so I wouldn't start now.

"It's whatever I have to do , to get you off me." I say and his eyes widen a moment and his nostrils flare. 

I brace myself for an open palm or the back of his hand across my face. But Kane King, pushes off the bed, grabs a bathrobe, pulling it on, I just watch and he walks across the massive bedroom to the door.

"Sleep well..wife." he growls, slamming the door shut behind him.

I lay there for a good few hours, trying to understand his actions, his refusal to take any of what I had offered, but I decide that I'm glad he didn't, for whatever reason that may be. 

I kick off the heels , push down the lace panties, and pull up the covers. And spend my wedding night alone in my husbands bed. And I couldn't have asked for a better fucking outcome than that.