Page 16 of Degradation (The Brethren Lords #3)

Pailtyn

I wake up in a bed. I know it’s not my own, that the space I’m in is not my own.

I blink, trying to sit up and in the dim light, I can see how ornate this room is.

All the walls are covered in mother of pearl panels.

They’re intricate, delicate, it must have taken years of craftsmanship to create such a thing.

For a moment I’m so awestruck by my surroundings that I don’t register the pain, the bruising, the way it feels like my entire body has been beaten.

My hands wrap around my neck, and I whimper as the flashback hits me.

He strangled me. He tried to kill me.

It has to be a mistake, it has to be, but he didn’t even need to squeeze, my mother said the whole thing was symbolic – what he did was anything but.

I pull my knees up to my chin, huddling under the ridiculously soft covers. I don’t understand why he did it, I don’t understand why he hurt me.

Between my legs there’s an awful, agonising throbbing. I know it’s from the way he fucked me. Shame heats my cheeks at the thought of it, of him on top of me, of the sound of him grunting as he consummated our marriage while all those people watched on.

“Paitlyn?”

I gasp looking up, unsure if it’s relief or something else I feel as my mother’s face peers around the doorframe.

“Mom-ma?” I stammer, sounding more emotionally than I mean. My throat is so painful that it hurts to speak.

She comes in, quickly shutting the door and she strides across the room, her eyes fixed on me. “Oh, sweetie,” She says, holding her hands out to hug me.

I fall into her embrace, needing it to comfort me and before I can stop myself, I’m sobbing again.

“Ssssh, it’s okay.” She says, sweeping the loose strands of my hair back from my face. “You did so good.”

I blink in confusion, what about anything that happened today could be considered good?

“I, I want to go home.” I whisper. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be anywhere near that man.

“Ssssh,” she says again, “you’re just wound up. You’re going to be fine. Besides, he’s your husband now, you’re Chapter Lady, you can’t just leave.” She chuckles before fixing me with that piercing gaze. “Let’s get you fixed up, get you pretty again.”

She takes my hand, leading me up out of the bed. I don’t know who did it, but I’ve been dressed in some sort of nighty.

My mother undoes my hair, slowly eases out the knots and brushes it while I sit there, at the vanity, staring. Across my chest there’s a strange square mark that looks like it could be a burn. My neck is so bruised my flesh is practically black. It’s mottled with my blood.

He did that. My husband.

“I, I can’t do this…” I begin and she immediately stops, fixing me a look in the mirror.

“Paitlyn, don’t be ridiculous. This is your destiny. This is why you were born. You were meant to marry Gunther. You were meant to be given this power…”

“Power?” I half gasp-half sob. What power do I have? I gulp and that searing pain shoots down my throat reminding me of what he did, how he strangled me. I can still feel his hands there, I can still feel them pushing against my throat, squeezing the very life out of me.

“He’s old. He’s a man. He’s easy to manipulate.

” She states, grabbing my chin. “You just need to be smart about it. He chose you because he wants you. Use that. Make the man fall in love with you, wrap him around your finger and he’ll do whatever you want, treat you however you want.

Men think with their cocks, not their heads.

You need to ensure that every day all he can focus on is how much pleasure you alone can give him and in return, he’ll be putty in your hands. ”

I chew my lip, hearing the logic in her words. I just don’t know if I can do that. If I have the skills to do that, despite all the years of training my mother has given me.

She starts brushing my hair again, before walking over to the closet and she pulls out a hanger, holding it up for me to see.

It’s lingerie. I gulp as I stare at the pretty white lace set. It’s sexy, sensual, the perfect thing for a bride’s first night with her new husband.

“Put this on.” She orders. “Make yourself pretty for him.”

I get up, seeing the uselessness in disobeying.

I don’t bother to turn or hide myself. My mother has seen me naked enough times for me not to be embarrassed by it.

I toss the nighty, putting the thong on first. It comes up between my arse cheeks in a way that’s uncomfortable.

I’ve never worn one before, it was made clear to me that items like this are for married women only.

Married women and whores. I guess I should feel honoured that I’m finally graduating to this.

I’m not sure honoured is the word I’d use right now to describe myself.

My mother holds the bra out, shaking it slightly to pull me out of my head. I give her a smile, and put it on, adjusting the straps. It’s itchy, just a little around my nipples but I keep that complaint to myself.

That strange mark on my breast makes me pause and I brush my fingers over it, confirming that this is what it is, it is a burn. When did that happen? Was that after I passed out?

“You look stunning, Paitlyn.” My mother says so proudly. “Gunther won’t be able to keep his eyes, or his hands off you.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” I stupidly mumble, dropping my hands to my sides.

She tsks, cupping my chin and making me look at her. “He will adore you, Paitlyn. Any man would. Even without your bloodline, you’re perfection, we made sure of that. And once you give him sons, he’ll love you even more.”

Sons. Children. The thought of being pregnant scares the shit out of me.

Especially when I know that all Chapter Ladies have to give birth in the Cathedral, in front of those same baying eyes.

I can’t imagine anything more shameful than lying there, having all my bits exposed while I push out a child and probably shit myself in the process.

No, I can, having Gunther fuck me the way he did and then almost murder me. That is more shameful. Far more shameful.

My stomach churns, another flashback of his hands hits me, and I wince as I swallow a wave of bile.

“Be confident, Paitlyn.” My mother instructs. “Men don’t want shy little girls. They want women who enjoy sex, who enjoy their husbands. If you can’t find pleasure in it at first, then fake it, moan and writhe and do everything I taught you…”

I nod back, remembering the moves, remembering the videos she made me watch too.

Those types are strictly forbidden so she had to ensure Antonio never found out about them, but I am grateful that I’m not going into this completely blind.

My mother took care of me, brought me up to ensure I had all the skillset to be the perfect fuckable wife, so why do I feel so horribly out of my depth now?

I hear footsteps. We both do. I can’t help but tense as I realise whoever it is, is heading in this direction, to this room.

My heart slams into my chest and I know I’m already trembling.

“Momma?” I half-whisper.

She gives me her biggest fakest smile. “You’ve got this. You know you have. Make your husband happy, do whatever he asks and you, my girl, will have the world.”

The door opens before I can reply. My eyes dart to it and my stomach drops even further when I see that it is him, it is my husband.

I bow my head quickly, showing as much respect as I can. My mother does the same before moving to stand beside me so my husband can see me all dressed up and ready for him.

“Chapter Lord.” My mother says proudly. “Your wife is ready and eager for you.”

He glances at my mother before running his eyes over me. As he walks up to us, he mutters something I don’t catch.

He looks calm, far calmer than he was back in the Cathedral. Perhaps he was just nervous too. Perhaps he was uncomfortable with all those eyes watching him and his brutality was a mistake.

I let out a low breath, trying to steady myself. I can do this. I can be this. I just have to smile and be nice and suck his cock and everything else he asks of me.

He reaches out, grabbing my jaw so quickly I don’t have time to react. “I did some damage then?” He growls as he inspects the bruising around my neck like it’s the first time he’s seeing it. Like he didn’t squeeze the oxygen out of my lungs so much I almost died.

“Nothing that won’t heal.” My mother assures him.

He doesn’t even look at her. Doesn’t even react to her words. He just stares at me, stares at my neck, then down to where my breasts are pushed up in this fancy bra. I can’t tell if it’s my cleavage he’s admiring or the burn.

“She’s got good tits.” He mutters. “Let’s see if her nipples are hard already.” I don’t know who he’s talking to, it’s not me, and I doubt from the tone it’s my mother either. But there’s no one else in the room.

He unhooks my bra, pinching my skin slightly as he does it, and, as it falls to the floor, I step back. It’s instinctual and I don’t mean to do it but that clearly annoys him because he quickly wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me back. “Where are you going, wife?” He says. “I want to play.”

“I’m, I’m sorry.” I half-whisper but I barely get the words out before his finger on my lips silences me.

He slides it down, down my chin, down to my chest bone, to my cleavage before he lifts his other hand and starts massaging my breasts.

“Such great tits.” He groans. “I loved the way they responded the first time. They’re so malleable, so soft…”

My cheeks heat. I’m more than aware of the fact my mother is stood here, watching this.

She doesn’t say anything, but she gives me a quick glance then silently heads to the door.

Gunther is still engrossed in his play but as she reaches it, he barks out the words. “You stay.”

My mother instantly freezes. I can see the flash of shock on her face but she’s quick to cover it. To make herself impassive. “As you wish, Chapter Lord.”