Jean let out a quiet moan as she opened her mouth to Michael, and his tongue found hers.
The sound seemed to do something to him as he deepened the kiss, his hand moving to rest on the nape of her neck, urging her closer.
For a moment, Jean remained immobile; she let him have his way with her.
If this was how their marriage was going to be, there was little she could do about it, she thought.
It would be better to start learning how not to provoke him into being very forceful with her.
So, Jean remained standing, hand clenched at her sides.
She remained that way until Michael’s tongue found hers and she was forced to moan into his mouth at how exciting the feel of his tongue wrapped around her was.
To her great horror and shame, Jean found herself wrapping her arm around his neck, pulling him closer to her, working her own tongue expertly in his mouth, and the slight groan that escaped Michael filled Jean with a wanting so great, she thought that she was surely mad to be feeling this way.
Michael’s right hand left her neck and came to rest on her waist, and within seconds, his hand made contact with her skin, and a shiver of excitement ran down her spine.
In that moment, Jean regretted her choice of clothing.
Michael broke the kiss and stepped away from her.
“You’re a naughty little thief, aren’t you?” Jean could not bring herself to look at him, so she looked down at the rug once more.
Her heart was racing, and she felt ashamed of herself and disgusted, disgusted by the fact that she had liked that kiss and had wanted… more.
She was disgusted by the fact that she was already being so… shameless with the man she was supposed to hate, the man who had stolen her freedom for her.
Tears gathered in Jean’s eyes because she felt that she was betraying Jeff somehow.
Of course he knew precisely what their marriage would entail, and he knew she had sex with men on their outing, but she never liked them; she was never supposed to want them.
It was different with the man who stood in front of her, a triumphant grin on his handsome face.
Jean hated him, and she hated herself too.
A tiny part of her hated Jeff too, for making her agree to this.
“I’m glad you’re very… enthusiastic, my pretty thief, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until our wedding night.
I plan on keeping myself for my wife.” Jean did nothing.
She made no sound, no movement; she only breathed in and out, slowly, trying to calm her racing heart.
Michael moved to stand in front of his floor-to-ceiling window before turning to look at her.
“Don’t worry, though; you won’t have to wait long.
We’ll be married in two weeks.” Jean’s head whipped up at that to find a smirking Michael looking at her from where he stood.
The amusement in his eyes was clear, and Jean wondered if he was capable of taking anything seriously.
“I… What do you mean two weeks?” Michael gave a lazy shrug.
“I am aware that you stopped your education at high school, but surely you’re not that dumb.” Jean bristled at his insult and found that in anger, she could speak more coherently.
“What I meant was that you can’t expect to be wed in just two weeks when you’ve only just heard my answer.” “Oh, please.
I’ve met many idiots like that boyfriend of yours.
I practically offered him a one-way ticket to heaven.
He would never refuse that.” Jean was momentarily stunned into silence before finding her voice again, but this time it came out weak and small.
“Planning a wedding takes time.” Michael’s smirk turned into a grin as he walked from the window to stand in front of her once more.
He brought both hands to her cheeks, making her face pouty, and Jean thought that he would kiss her.
She was determined to refuse him this time.
“My adorable thief, one thing you’ll come to learn as my wife is that when you’re as rich as me, nothing ever takes time.” He said, and then released her to walk over to his massive desk.
“Help yourself to a cup of coffee.
I have papers to go through; once I am done, we’ll go.” He said as he settled himself on the chair and raised what looked like a pad to his face.
“Go where?” Jean found herself asking, still rooted to the spot.
“Whatever you might think of this marriage is of no concern to me, but I intend for it to be real,” Michael said, lowering the pad so that he could look at me.
“And as such, I intend to follow the normal marriage procedures.” “I don’t follow,” Jean responded, her mouth suddenly dry.
“We’re going to see your guardians to ask their blessing,” Michael said with a smirk.
“NO!”