Becoming Mrs. Benedict by K Webster & Mickey Reed

Author:K Webster & Mickey Reed [Webster, K & Reed, Mickey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: K Webster
Published: 2015-05-14T23:00:00+00:00

THE WOMAN IS MAD. Certifiably crazy. It is in her best interest if I call for a doctor—one who can pry into her mind and fix her. Clearly, I am not that man. I am incapable of understanding what is going on with her.

When I awoke to touching her, I at first assumed that I, too, had violated the woman. But the moment she begged and pleaded for me to continue, I soon realized it was by her own wishes—she was using me to pleasure herself.

My cock still aches, thick and harder than a fucking rock, in my trousers. It was my desire to spread her open and show her exactly how good I could make her feel with my tongue. However, I would have been no better than the predator who stole her from her bedroom.

I will not harm the woman.

And I will not allow her to harm herself.

After a quick, cold bath and having dressed, I stalk back toward the room I left her in. Then I rap on the door and wait for her to answer.

“Ella, are you dressed?”

Silence.

For a moment, I worry that someone has taken her again. Not wasting another second, I plow through the door. She stands at the window with her back to me. The woman is still stark naked, peering out into the street.

“Why aren’t you clothed?” I hiss through clenched teeth.

The sight of her milky skin mottled with bruises and cuts seems harsher in the daylight. I want to cover her up and hide what that bastard did to her.

When she turns toward me, I drag my gaze away from her breasts to her face. A frown tugs at her lips as she recedes to her inward thoughts. With a growl, I snatch the dress up and storm over to her.

“Put this on. Now. We cannot have you traipsing around naked. Why are you naked, woman?”

I am completely flustered and unsure how to handle her. Calling for a doctor is of utmost importance.

“No.”

My jaw drops, and I gape at her. “Ella, put on the goddamned dress.”

Tears well in her eyes, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“Put on the dress or I’ll put it on for you,” I threaten.

She shoves me the moment I near her with the material. “Get away from me!”

“This is insane! You will dress and you will come to breakfast with me. It is evident that you are upset and distraught from your times with William, but I will not allow you to act like some madwoman. Put the dress on.”

When I approach once more with the dress, she screams and rips it from my hands. I watch in astonishment as she tosses it to the floor. Closing in on her, I clutch her wrists and still her flailing arms.

“Why won’t you put the dress on, darling?” I question in a softer tone.

She struggles for a moment before her shoulders sag and a wail rips from her. “I-I-I can’t. He made me wear that dressing gown for so long.

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