Arrange Marriage (Craving)

•𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑰𝑨• "Tighten the corset," the elderly woman with a thick Russian accent in charge of my wedding preparations ordered firmly. My eyes stayed glued to my reflection in the body-length mirror as the strings of the corset were diligently pulled at my back until the corset fit me perfectly like a glove. The tiny glimmery pearls embellished on the corset traced the sweetheart neckline beautifully, some scattered artistically around my chest. The cleavage the corset left was decent but still prominent and eye-catching for someone like me with considerably bigger than average tits. The rest of the dress flowed down my waist elegantly in ruffled layers of great volume with more pearls on the seams, giving an overall dazzling effect. I'd never felt so exquisite in a dress, my perfectly chiselled shoulders and collarbone exposed in a comfortably attractive way. Beautiful as I felt, the unsettling sensation at the pit of my stomach only seemed to multiply. Traditionally, brides wore white for the wedding and stood out in the colour, but somehow, my gown, exquisite as it was, was all black. Everything was strictly black in a way that gave me nauseating chills and a shudder of whether this was a wedding or a funeral. Nothing on me had colour, except my skin growing paler with every passing second and nagging thoughts of how doomed I was. Even the lacy gloves I wore were in black as well as the professionally applied lipstick on my lips that wouldn't smudge even a little bit when I tried rubbing it off with both my hands and a wet towel. The strictness on the colour black was infuriating, especially the strict requirement that I had to dye my hair black as well. That, I'd stood my ground to deny, threatening to disappear before the ceremony began if anyone touched my hair with any sort of chemical. I loved it my hair the way it was and I wasn't going to change it for a stupid fake wedding that'd probably make it to the list of the worst days of my life. They'd ended up settling for a wig of long black hair, flowing down my back and all the way to my waist, a crown sitting on my head. I didn't like the dark appeal forcibly exuding a dark aura. I preferred my own, soft and light as it was and I certainly felt more beautiful and comfortable under my own skin with who I truly was. Another deep sigh set my shoulders even lower, my chest weakly heaving up and down. I would never be ready to give myself to a stranger in this manner, but the love swelling in my chest for my family held the tears at bay. This was the part when I had to be really strong. Slowly, the countless professionals in the room began leaving, a smaller group of assistants handling the final touches to my makeup, jewellery and outfit. When everyone finally left, I finally felt like I could breathe, but no matter how hard I tried breathing and swallowing, an uncomfortably solid lump was permanently lodged in my throat. My right hand wouldn't stop trembling and my skin was unusually pale. I tried closing my eyes and escaping to the lighter and happier moments in pursuit of peace, but all I got was nothing but a constant reminder of how I would possibly never go back to such blissful moments. The gentle opening of the door followed by a soft click of it closing and footsteps approaching me made my heart jackhammer wildly as I slowly fluttered my eyes open. I could see a man's reflection in the mirror as he paced towards me, hands in his pockets and a devilish grin touching his lips. God, I felt weird rumbles in my stomach. I suddenly felt terribly sick. I'd been told he was older than me but in his mid to late twenties. In all my life, I'd never seen someone in their twenties look old enough to be my father and look so shamelessly at me with undressing eyes. Even before looking back at him properly, I could feel his dark aura radiate towards me, freezing my blood instantly and sending cold shivers down my spine. The closer he got to me, the more I felt a constriction in my chest and bile rising up my throat. I remained rooted to the spot, clamping my hands down firmly onto the dresser in an attempt to help with the trembling in my hands. He stood directly behind me, almost pressing his body into mine before his cold hand brushed against my exposed shoulder. I visibly shivered, flinching and mustering enough strength to turn around and face him. My eyes met his cold icy blue pair, panic flooding my veins at how devious and suggestive his stare grew as his eyes wandered to my body. He was close to drooling and I felt my head spin. I didn't like him. I didn't like him at all. He scared me and made me feel insecure. His hand slowly reached out to my face, trying to cup my cheek, but I drew away sharply, following his eyes. "D-dom--" I quivered, his name too heavy and intimidating to completely roll off my tongue. Dominic Bernardi. Even his name made me shiver. The man standing before me grinned even wider, feeding on my fear. "Not Dominic, my little dark queen," he corrected in a raspy tone, his voice making the tiny hairs on my spine stand. "His father, Teodoro, but to you," he murmured, leaning his face closer and closer to mine, "I'll accept Daddy." His words made me cringe so hard that I felt like throwing up on him. Part of me felt utterly disgusted at his tone, but part of me was relieved I wasn't doomed to marry this wicked pervert. He reminded me so much of my boss and partly my own father who'd ruined my confidence and perspective of men in my teenage years when I started blooming with his suggestive comments and actions. Why did I always have to deal with such distasteful behaviour from ridiculously older men? "So fresh and young," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch my hair. "So innocent and flawless," he growled, hunger carving into his tone. I felt sick. He had me trapped and looked like he'd instantly break me effortlessly if I moved a muscle. Help. A light knock on the door followed by its opening made me inwardly sigh in relief as Teodoro turned away from me towards the door and I took it as an opportunity to move further away from him. "The ceremony will begin in ten minutes," the formally dressed man at the door announced. Teodoro nodded dismissively, turning back to me once before walking out with a creepy grin. I placed my hand on my flat stomach, taking deep controlled breaths and trying to calm the silent war erupting inside. He was one scary man. What would his son be like? Was he equally monstrous, immoral and intimidating? Would he treat me the way his father had? Different questions without answers swirled through my mind as I tried to calm myself. I only had ten minutes to find out and I didn't feel ready. Two familiar women walked in, covering my head with a long black lacy veil. A bouquet of black roses was placed in my hands before I was escorted out to the venue of the ceremony. The night was chilly yet I felt extremely hot and sweaty in my gloved palms. The glowing moon and scattered twinkling stars bathed the evening in a magical glow, but the hell I was about to face completely distorted that glow. I was scared with no one to comfort me, not even my family. They weren't allowed to see me until the wedding was complete but I hoped to see them during the ceremony. The escorts and I arrived at the bolted garden doors in time to be on schedule and left me standing there alone. No one was walking me down the aisle. I was presenting myself to him personally and facing a reality I'd chosen, a sacrifice I'd consciously made. The doors were opened shortly and musical instruments started playing an unfamiliar tune. I took a deep breath and swallowed, taking a step forward like I'd been instructed during the rehearsal. Two steps inside on the glowing aisle and ravens took off from my sides, flying high into the open sky. Weird floating things like fish appeared beneath my feet, swirling around the lit-up floor. I was so startled I nearly screamed, but the small squeal I made got swallowed up in the loud clapping of guests and ravens cawing. Hot giant tears stung my eyes, threatening to spill any second. I bit on my quivering bottom lip, my tears blurring my vision completely without falling. I was so dead. The walk down the aisle felt like hours of torment and fighting my tears before I finally made it to the altar. I wasn't even sure where to step because of both the veil and tears and nearly tripped and fell when I missed a step. I thought I heard muffled laughter in the crowd, killing my confidence completely. I was helpless. Just when I thought I couldn't move forward any further, break down and give everyone a good reason to openly laugh at me, I felt strong hands frame my shoulders lightly on the sides. The sudden contact of the coldness I felt on my skin and warm unfamiliar hands had an electrifying effect on my exhausted senses, sending tinges from my brain to my toes. Still trying to process what was happening, I felt myself being guided forward, radiant heat close to my supple body. It was a man undoubtedly, one with a distinct scent I'd never picked up on another human. It was an enticing musky manly scent, fragranced with a unique pint of rosewood and spice. I couldn't exactly place what it was, but something about it had both a soothing and seductive effect on my senses. The warmth disappeared as quickly as I'd felt it on my skin as I stood at the altar, probably facing the groom. The scent didn't completely vanish, its effect still wafting in the air, inviting me to absorb it into my system, into my veins and deep inside my blood. I never knew a person's scent would distract me so much that I forgot where I was and what was happening around me. It felt like the whole world melted away on my command, my senses fighting to detect the owner of the mysterious scent. I suddenly didn't feel like crying anymore, a newly found sense of wonder piquing my curiosity and attention. Did that scent perhaps belong to him? I couldn't help but think of that being a possibility. A distant voice spoke some words I couldn't hear as I sank deep in thought, imagining the worst. I didn't want to have high hopes for my first impression of him to avoid the disappointment that'd come if he didn't turn out to be what I hoped for. Whatever he looked like was okay. What I feared was his reaction to me. Would he accept me? Would he treat me at least like a human being? They must have skipped the vows or I just wasn't paying attention because the next thing I knew, the wedding officiant was asking the groom to kiss the bride. The nerves returned vigorously, the colour draining from my face. I wasn't certain if it was the fear of revealing my face to him for the first time while he did the same or the fact that he wasn't taking any action and time was ticking. Yes, we were strangers and skipping that kissing part wouldn't be too shocking, but why had it been announced if it wasn't part of the ceremony? Guests began murmuring and my heart sank. I felt oddly embarrassed. It felt like years before I felt movement, hands on the hem of my veil before slowly, the material was lifted off my face until it completely fell behind me. My eyes were cast down at his shoes, my confidence and self-esteem hiding away in my most insecure sore spots. I clutched onto the bouquet a little bit tighter, mustering every ounce of courage I had to face him. My eyes slowly ascended his undoubtedly muscular build, the way the tailored black suit he wore suited him like a glove defining every masculine muscle and boasting a large dose of oozing testosterone. I could almost see his abs ripping through the shirt clinging to his torso, failing to believe how someone could be so breath-taking before seeing his face. I felt things I'd never imagined myself feeling for any man before, the urge to trace every muscle with my fingertips and feel him beneath my touch. He was taller than me even with me in heels. I slowly lifted my eyes to his face, paying close attention to every feature from his sharp chiselled jaw, full lips, cheekbones and everything arranged on his face for a maximum striking effect. His eyes were my final destination, completely taking me out and assaulting my senses with shivers. They appeared icy blue just like his father's, but the more we held eye contact, the clearer the colour became to me. His eyes were grey, cold and void of emotion. I could feel his aura from inches away from him, a loud scream of dominance, power and supremacy. I felt my blood run cold and then hot at the same time in an inexplicable way. I didn't understand what I felt, but one thing was for sure, his appearance was a striking embodiment of devilish handsomeness. He took a step close to me, maintaining intense eye contact as a flicker of emotion flashed through his eyes. I could call it shock, but he didn't give me enough time to decipher the feeling with his sudden actions. His hand stretched towards my face, his fingertips lightly grazing my cheek and tracing their way to my hair, tucking strands lightly behind my ear. His lips twitched like he wanted to kiss me. Shit. I dreaded this part because the few insignificant times I'd been kissed or rather nearly kissed had not exactly been consensual and made me feel sick and disgusted afterwards. That had led to my choice of never giving anyone the liberty of kissing me without awakening the dead intimate feelings in me first and making me desire to be devoured, peeling off all the soft layers around me and unleashing the feisty vixen trapped inside me. I swallowed hard, watching him take a step towards me, closing the gap between us and cupping my face fully. Yes, he made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long while or actually never even without even touching or acknowledging me. Was that a sign? Dominic's forehead pressed into mine and I parted my lips, breathing through my mouth lightly. Something was happening to me. Something unusual, alien, hypnotic and shocking. I looked into his eyes, waiting for him to act first. "Do you want me to kiss you, Sofia?" Hearing his deep voice with my name rolling so silkily off his tongue had my stomach doing that fuzzy butterfly thing except I didn't feel just butterflies. The entire goddamn zoo had taken over my stomach, tiny creatures crawling around while his voice caressed my ears like music. Was he asking my permission to kiss me? Some would call me stupid for being so dense and shocked by the bare minimum, but for someone like me who was used to having things forcefully stolen from me, this came as a big surprise. I probably remained silent for too long, trying to digest everything, because the next thing I knew, his soft lips planted a feathery kiss on my cheek. It was so light and pillowy that it almost wasn't even there, yet the warm sensation lingered long after he retracted his steps away from me, standing facing the crowd in a robotic stance. Scattered claps resounded before growing more lively as I slowly turned to face the crowd, stealing a quick glance at Dominic first. He looked cold and too out of reach. Had I pissed him off already with my reluctance?