Isabella stood in the center of the royal bedchamber, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild animal trapped in a cage. She was trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The opulence of the room did nothing to soothe her nerves. If anything, it made her feel even smaller and more insignificant than she already did.
The door creaked open, and Isabella's gaze snapped towards it. Richard, the man she was now bound to for the rest of her days, stepped inside. He was known as the "Cavalier with Ice-Blue Eyes," and as his gaze lingered on her, she could understand why. There was a cold, calculating look in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.
Without a word, Richard moved towards her. His movements were fluid, almost predatory, and Isabella couldn't help but feel like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. She tried to step back, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped.
With a commanding gesture, Richard began to undress her. His fingers were deft, skilled, and Isabella couldn't help but feel a sense of violation as he exposed her body to his gaze. She tried to cover herself, but Richard stopped her, his eyes narrowing.
"Do not cover yourself, Isabella," he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to see all of you."
Isabella's cheeks burned with shame, but she obeyed, her hands falling to her sides. Richard's gaze raked over her body, taking in every curve and hollow. His eyes lingered on her breasts, and Isabella could feel her nipples harden under his gaze.
"Lie down on the bed, Isabella," Richard ordered, his voice softening slightly.
Isabella hesitated, but she knew she had no choice. With a resigned sigh, she climbed onto the bed, her body tense and rigid. Richard undressed himself, revealing his arousal. Isabella couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust as she looked at him. This was not the man she loved. This was not Ruggiero.
Richard climbed onto the bed, his body looming over hers. He began to kiss and touch her, his hands rough and demanding. Isabella tried to resist, but Richard paid no heed. He was driven by his desire, and nothing else mattered.
He caressed her breasts, his fingers rough and demanding. Isabella couldn't help but wince as he pinched her nipples. She tried to pull away, but Richard's grip was too strong.
"Please, stop," Isabella begged, tears streaming down her face. "You're hurting me."
But Richard paid no heed. He continued to kiss and touch her, his passion growing with every passing moment. He ran his hand through her pubic hair, his fingers delving into her most intimate of places.
Isabella wept and pleaded with him to stop, but Richard continued, driven by his desire. He entered her with a firm thrust, causing her to cry out in pain. Richard's initial thrusts were slow and deep, but his passion grew, and they became faster.
Isabella, tears streaming down her face, begged him to stop, saying he was hurting her, but Richard, ignorant of gentler ways, continued. Eventually, Isabella reached a climax, her body shuddering with release. She fell into a deep, tearful sleep, her body spent.
Richard, too, reached his climax and remained wrapped around her naked body, realization slowly dawning on him. He had taken his frustration out on an innocent girl, a girl who was now his wife. He had been rough and demanding, and he had hurt her.
As he lay there, his body still entwined with Isabella's, Richard vowed to do better. He would learn to be gentle and kind, to treat Isabella with the respect and love she deserved. He would make it up to her, he vowed, as he drifted off to sleep, his body still entwined with hers.
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