Chapter 1
sat on the edge of the bed, surrounded by the warm, flickering glow of candles and the intoxicating fragrance of fresh flowers scattered across the room.
In my hand, I held a glass of red wine. Beside me on the nightstand rested the bottle, more than half empty—its crimson contents having already found their way down my throat.
I am Lyra, and tonight is my wedding night.
I was waiting for my newly wedded husband. I sat there with an undeniable sense of eager curiosity—word had it that he was an absolute master between the sheets. That alone piqued my interest, despite the fact that I had been forced into this marriage against my will.
Remarkably, I was still a pure virgin. In European culture, where girls often freely explore intimacy with partners as early as twelve or thirteen, I was twenty-two and had held onto my virginity, saving it specifically for my first night. Since the wedding had happened regardless of my reluctance, I figured I might as well enjoy the wedding night to its fullest.
To be completely honest, I hadn't felt this way until a little while ago. The urge only sparked after two of my husband's female cousins stopped by to casually enlighten me about his legendary prowess in bed. Hearing their unfiltered praise left me burning with a sudden desire to surrender my virginity to such a capable man.
Ugh, sorry... he is my husband now. So it won't be "losing" my virginity—it'll be enjoying it...
By the time I was nearly finishing the bottle of wine, my gentleman had still not entered the room. A light, warm buzz was creeping in, wrapping my mind in a hazy, surreal trance.
Suddenly, an icy, spine-chilling breeze swept through the room. In an instant, the very atmosphere shifted. As I stood up from the bed, I noticed a figure entering and locking the door from the inside. In the dim, flickering candlelight, I couldn't make out his face right away. But as the shadowed form stepped slowly into the light, I froze.
My throat went completely dry. Standing before me was my newly wedded husband, Jenson. I had only seen him once before our wedding, sharply tailored in a suit. But now, he stood before me bare-chested, wearing nothing but a pair of black trousers.
His chiseled abs and defined six-pack looked intoxicatingly attractive in the dance of the candlelight. An overwhelming urge to touch him washed over me, though hesitation kept me anchored in place. Still, I waited with bated breath for his next move.
With slow, heavy steps, Jenson carried his broad frame past me, brushing closely against my skin as he reached for the wine bottle on the bedside table. Picking it up, he met my gaze with a sinister, devious smirk.
"Finished the whole bottle, honey?" he murmured.
Hearing his voice sent a shock through me. It sounded hauntingly familiar—a voice I had heard somewhere long ago. But he had died years ago...
Shaking off the eerie thought, I stepped closer to him. I took the bottle from his hand, deftly poured the remaining wine into another glass, added a few ice cubes, and offered it to him with a slow, seductive glance.
"Yes, dear. You're so late tonight. So I kept myself company with the wine while waiting for you," I coaxed.
Taking the glass, Jenson took a sip and replied, "Sorry, my honey. Something important came up."
"Was it really more important than tonight?" I teased, stepping closer. "Have you forgotten it's our wedding night, my fucking husband?"
With those words, I unfastened my red nightie and let it drop to the floor. The heavy wine was already fueling a burning sensation inside me, leaving my senses desperate for a deep, passionate touch.
And why wouldn't they be? With such a dangerously hot and handsome husband standing right in front of me, no woman would hesitate to surrender her virginity.
The moment the words left my lips, Jenson set his wine glass down on the table and closed the distance between us. In one swift motion, he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling my body flush against his. The fingers of his other hand traced a slow, feather-light trail down from my forehead, over my chin, down my neck, coming to a rest on the bare skin exposed above the neckline of my dress.
"Sorry, my fucking lady, for my late entry," he purred softly. "But don't worry. I'll make it up to you. Tonight, I'm going to drown you in an ocean of pure passion. You'll be screaming, sweetheart... screaming from my love. And I can't wait to hear it."
"Yes, my love," I breathed out, my eyes locking onto his. "I want your touch so badly... I want to scream for you. And I mean every word of it
