Beauty--Remastered Ch. 03

Dear readers...first off, sorry for the corny tagline. Second off, thank you so much for reading this and *hint hint* voting and *even louder hint hint* commenting. You guys rock!

Chapter 4 is coming soon, cross my heart, but maybe not as quickly as this one did, because I'll be going through some intense changes over the next few weeks. But never fear. You'll get to hear more about Donovan and Scarlet soon enough. I'm also beginning work on a story for Joey and Danny, so keep a look out for that delish one =)

And now, without further ado, here's chapter 3!

***

Scarlet couldn't have picked a more fittingly dismal day for an equally dismal wedding. Outside the mansion she was imprisoned in, thunder and lightning raged, and fat raindrops pelted the windows.

She sat, huddled on the bed, glaring at the beautiful, if simple, white gown she was supposed to be wearing. It was nothing she would have ever chosen for herself, but even from just a glance, she knew the silky satin gown would be almost perfect on her small figure. The slightly dropped waist would reveal her subtle curves, and the strapless sweetheart neckline would accent her small, but very full breasts.

Which, she scowled even more, would be ridiculous, since her groom was blinder than a bat. It seemed wrong, anyway, to wear a real wedding gown for this sham of a marriage.

She heard Abner's approach out in the silent corridor. A moment later, there was a hesitant knock. "Miss Lennox?" She made no reply and the man continued. "Lord Alford is waiting."

"And wait, he shall." She murmured to herself.

"Please, milady."

She laughed at that. Every time Abner came to speak to her, on his boss' behalf, he'd called her 'milady.' The term was so outdated, like the man had stepped out of a story book. This whole situation was, in fact, straight out of a Grimm Fairytale.

"Annabelle." At the sound of her name from her captor's lips, her small bit of amusement faded. "You will be downstairs in no more than twenty minutes. And you will be wearing that gown. We are getting married, whether you like it or not."

She didn't move a muscle. He couldn't get through the door with that desk in front of it; he'd tried already. And if she wasn't there, they couldn't marry. It was a paltry rebellion, because she knew deep down inside, that he'd eventually hold her mother's welfare over her head and she'd surrender and go downstairs to a fate worse – she supposed, anyway – than death. But, for now, she'd stay exactly where she was, in her regular clothes.

"You must be hungry." He called abruptly, startling her. She stared at the door. "Abner has prepared a sort of celebratory feast for after the wedding."

Scarlet was hungry; she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, but *he* didn't know that. She didn't need food terribly, and he wasn't going to lure her outside with the promise of it.

"I think he made an apple pie to finish it off. That is your favorite, isn't it, Annabelle?" Donovan's voice was muffled, but almost wheedling.

Scarlet's stomach growled. How the hell he knew that she liked apple pie was beyond her. She continued to ignore him, though.

"In fact, I think the whole meal is all for you. There's macaroni and cheese with four kinds of cheese. Salmon. And you love strawberry cheesecake, don't you?"

"Those don't even go together." She muttered to herself. She stood and paced across the carpet to keep her mind off her stomach's increasingly loud demands that she open the goddamn door. "Why the hell does it matter to him if I come out or not? He said he doesn't want to marry me. And how the hell does he know my favorites?"

Donovan stopped describing the various foods Abner had made, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He'd gone, at last. A few minutes later, though, he proved her wrong. "Annabelle, please come down. We can talk about this, if you'd like."

She stopped her pacing, confused by his somber and nearly apologetic tone. And, against her better judgment, she replied. "What is there to talk about?"

He took a moment to respond. "Please. I don't want this either, but we'll have to make the most of it. I promise you, if there is any way to get out of this without ruining you or your mother, I'll find it. Just...marry me now."

She found herself leaning against the desk, almost ready to push it aside. When he talked like that, softly and so not dictatorially, something in her wondered if being married to him wasn't so bad as all that. She shoved that irrational little piece of her in the very back of her mind. No way in hell was he going to sweet talk her into surrendering. "Why does it matter to you if my mother and I have nothing?"

"I don't know." He sounded as if he was leaning against the door on the other side.

"It wouldn't be so awful, you know," Much to her own surprise, she perched on the desk to actually talk to the barbarian. "I could get a job. We don't have to be rich, after all. You don't have to marry me just to make sure me and my mother are cared for. We can do it on our own."

"And what about when the hospital bills came?"

"Those were taken care of already." It would all work out, she mused. If he'd just let her go, she could build a life for her mother. Granted, it wouldn't be nearly as flush as they'd become used to, but they'd done it before and they could do it again. They'd do it better this time around. "Don't you see - you don't need me, and I don't need you."

"Not yours. And not your father's." He was...sad? Regretful? "Your mother's."

She hesitated. "What are you talking about?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" When he didn't reply, she raised her voice. "Tell me what?"

"Annabelle..."

Scarlet shoved the desk away with a sudden strength that belied her small stature and wrenched open the door. She pushed the man she was eventually going to have to marry across the hall into the wall, and he didn't fight her. "Tell. Me. What?"

Donovan's throat worked briefly. Now that he had to tell her, he didn't want to. He wished he could take it all back, let her go back into her room to fume and ignore his attempts to get her out. But there was no going back. "I think she should be the one to tell you –"

"Like hell. Donovan, I swear, if you don't tell me..." She trailed off. She had no real threat to make. Anything she could think of would probably mean diddly to him. "Please."

"Your mother is sick." He said it reluctantly. When she softened her tone for that 'please,' it made him feel lower than dirt to want to keep anything away from her. Hell, if she ever wanted anything from him, all she'd have to do was say that one soft word and he'd give her the world.

"How sick?" She asked, but she instinctively knew. Not a cold, not the flu. Nothing paltry like that. Her mother never got sick.

"She's dying, Annabelle." He tried to say it as gently as possible, but he still felt her pain as she released his collar and stepped back. "She has a tumor, and the doctors haven't given her much time. She is being admitted to the hospital tomorrow. She just wanted to make sure you were out of the house and taken care of before –"

"How did you find out?" Her voice was surprisingly calm. He had expected her to break down in tears or try to deny the whole thing. But she didn't.

"She told me." Again, he sensed her flare of pain, and he winced. "The day I found out about the marriage, the day after your accident, she called me."

"There never was any 'stay'. Or limit. Was there?" She whispered. "She said...she said that it had to be done soon, or...she said my father said a week."

"No. There was a time limit...we're supposed to be married when you turn twenty. But your assets and inheritance would be frozen until then, with a small allowance. When your mother found out she was sick, she knew you would never be able to take care of her in her illness with what you were given. And she didn't want you to have to work so hard, when it wouldn't do any good."

"So it's definite, then?" She was still calm. Some niggling part of her mind argued that something was off; there was something about this whole mess that didn't make sense. She just didn't have the strength or clarity to figure it out just yet. "She's really dying?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry, Annabelle." He reached for her unconsciously. She stepped back. "You shouldn't have found out like this."

A mirthless chuckle escaped her, too loud in the cold echoing hallways. It bounced harshly around her dizzy head. "No shit." He opened his mouth to try again, but she shushed him. "Give me ten minutes."

***

Exactly ten minutes later, the reluctant couple was standing stiffly in front of a priest. Abner stood quietly behind them in the dark, cool study. Scarlet's icy hands were resting in her groom's, just dead weight, and she faced him with a blank stare. The aging vicar looked nervously between the two of them as they repeated their vows in monotone, reluctant voices.

Donovan stared down at his little bride, wishing he could see her face. It didn't sound like she had been crying, but she could have easily hid that. The part of him that wanted her, somehow bigger than it was yesterday, wished he could comfort her. It was a shock to her, to hear that her mother was going to die. He hadn't wanted to be the one to tell her; Michelle really should've said something a long time ago.

"I do." Scarlet's voice interrupted his thought process. Were they done already? When had he said his vows?

"You may kiss your bride, my lord." The priest stepped back.

Donovan heard Scarlet's indrawn breath. He hadn't thought of the kissing part. He had hardly even touched her yet. The thought of his lips on hers...then again, why was he stressing about this? She was his wife. He pulled her closer, growling subvocally when she tried to resist. "Do not fight me, Annabelle."

The priest looked ready to say something. Scarlet paled when her...her husband tugged her flush against his body. One arm wrapped around her back, making her arch against him on her tiptoes. His other hand tilted her chin further up. His sightless, beautiful dark eyes, which she could now see were a deep forest green, had her mesmerized. The pink lips, which she'd thought a touch too rounded, like a woman's, yesterday...today, they seemed more sensual, manlier.

Especially when the right corner tipped up in a sexy self-satisfied grin. A blushing thought slipped through her mind before she could rein it in: what would those decadent lips feel like? Taste like? Would he – oh! He was leaning –

As far as first kisses went, Scarlet's was damn near perfect. Donovan was gentle at first, almost hesitant. Once he got a feel for her lips, he set about ravishing them. She wanted to resist; she tried. But the warmth and sensation of his lips on hers and...well, whatever else she felt, was too much for her.

She practically melted into him with a quiet little mewl, despite everything. He just held her tighter, and she didn't mind a bit that she couldn't breathe. In some part of her mind, she knew what a spectacle they were making of themselves, but with only Abner and the nervous priest observing, who would complain? So she let the kiss go on and on...and on some more.

It was only when his tongue darted against her lips that she pulled away. Or, as away as she could get in his tight embrace. His face was flushed, and his breath short. She knew she was in the same disheveled state. All of her anger and frustration came back in a heady rush and she worked harder to escape his clutches.

She opened her mouth to order him to release her, but her words were cut short by his lips attacking hers again. Taking complete advantage of the opening, his tongue forced its way between her teeth and slid along her own.

Scarlet's knees buckled under his fierce onslaught, but he simply held her tighter, pulled her up against him. She felt every hard muscle in his body pressed against her.

A wave of something she'd never felt before, but she knew could only be desire shivered through her body, and pooled between her legs. All too soon, immediately, she needed *something* she didn't know. Pressure, contact...anything to get rid of that needy ache.

His knee worked its way between her thighs somehow, and she was horrified to find herself rubbing against it, trying to relieve that tension his kiss was building. A tingling spread through her, growing from her loins, scattering heat through her veins. She couldn't stop herself. Now that she had a means to an end, there was nothing on this earth that could stop her from relieving that elusive, consistent ache.

'Oh, god!' Scarlet thought frantically, writhing in his arms, trying both to get away and pull him closer. 'God, please, no!'

It was too late. One more rub of his tongue, one last grind of his muscular thigh on her core, and she came undone against him. She gasped against his mouth, and he pressed deeper, as if to consume and penetrate her at once. He swallowed her soft cries and moans hungrily until she had nothing more to give. Scarlet collapsed against him, not even feeling his kisses anymore. Her dark eyes fluttered closed.

'That was...' She didn't have the words, or the strength to describe it, even in her mind, so she simply sighed against his warmth.

Donovan's broad chest shook with repressed laughter, and her mind instantly snapped into focus. A scarlet blush tinged her cheeks as she carefully and deliberately unwound her groom's arms from her waist. She chanced a peek at the vicar and instantly wished she hadn't. The poor red-faced man looked completely scandalized, confused and just plain frightened. Abner was a bit better; the butler seemed more amused than anything else. And Donovan smiled down at her with a predatory look that made her insides turn to jelly.

Scarlet's deep blush was still reigning supreme as she turned to the priest, but she managed an unaffected tone like they hadn't just...done what they did right in front of a man of the cloth. "Will you stay to dinner, Father?"

"Ah – oh, no!" He squeaked, backing up a step or two as if their debauchery could rub off on him. "I should be going. I couldn't intrude. And my wife is waiting. Yes – er, *no*! I – I –"

"Abner, show him out." Donovan interrupted the man's babbling. "Thank you, Father."

The priest followed the butler, casting a wary eye back at the newlyweds; looking, for all the world, like he was scared they would chase after him and force him into their carnal wickedness. "Good evening."

"That was despicable." Scarlet hissed as soon as the door was closed. Donovan turned to her again, and the look on his face made her step back several paces. "The man's a priest, for God's sake. You can't do...that...in front of a fucking priest!"

"You enjoyed it, Annabelle." He stalked her around the room; for every one step he took in her direction, she took three away. The furniture she dodged behind was no hindrance to him, as he either pushed it aside or trailed her around it.

He grinned at the way her breath spiked, remembering the way she was panting and wriggling in his arms just moments ago. He'd never felt anything as erotic as her coming against his leg. He hadn't cared that they'd been observed, either. The fact that she'd brought herself to orgasm on him, fully clothed and in front of an audience, was arousing in itself. God, he'd never been so hard, so ready to thoroughly ravish someone. He wondered if she was always this responsive.

"Whether or not I enjoyed it is not the point." She ignored the way her voice was shaking and stepped behind a chair. He followed and she backed into the wall. Her heart stuttered with fear as she realized he had her nearly cornered, and she'd be trapped if she didn't move over in the few seconds it would take him to reach her. Before she could move away, he was on her again. He didn't kiss her this time, just braced his hands on either side of her head so she couldn't get away. "W-what are you doing?"

"You've had your fun, my dear." His voice was sinfully low. "Now, it's my turn."

"What –" She gasped.

He kissed her words away for the second time, this kiss even more intense and brutal than the last, though she hadn't thought that would be possible. He pushed her flat against the wall and loomed over her. She tried to push him off, but he simply caught both small hands in one of his and raised them above her head. With his other hand, he pulled her up, lifted her to his level. Her feet dangled uselessly for several moments until she yielded and wrapped them around his waist.

Donovan released her hands, obviously confident that she wouldn't try to fight him off anymore. She hesitated, debating, but finally wrapped her arms around his neck. Fighting him was useless.

Donovan shoved her dress up past her knees abruptly and pressed against her hard. She felt his arousal and whimpered into his mouth. He loved that sound, the sound of her need, her fear. He wouldn't take his wife against the wall like the barbarian she thought he was. His delicious little wife deserved sheets and candles and a great big bed. No, he could wait to have her. That didn't mean, though, that he wasn't going to have his pleasure.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of her mouth, mirroring exactly what he wanted to do to her with other parts of their bodies, he reached between them to unsnap his trousers. She didn't notice until he pressed his aching, burning shaft against her silky panties.

Scarlet stiffened and set about dislodging him again. "Get that fucking thing away from me."

He held her tighter and thrust his hips into her. Her furious words shuddered to a moan. "You like that, Annabelle?"

She didn't answer, and he didn't care. He knew she did. Her panties were soaked, and her juices provided a wonderfully warm, wet surface for him to slide against. He thrust harder, faster, and let her moan as loud as she wanted. Now that they were alone, he wanted to hear her every sound loud and clear. Before his accident, he hadn't appreciated the noises his lovers made as he fucked them into oblivion. Annabelle was the first woman he'd had since, and he realized exactly what he'd missed.

Her sighs and whimpers changed as he changed pace or angle. Quiet moans drifted from her open lips, turned to soft squeaks when he moved harder and faster, which got louder and harsher when he began centering his movements on her throbbing clit. Every noise she let escape only drove him higher.

After only a few minutes, he was on the edge. He slowed reluctantly. She wasn't ready yet. He wanted to feel her crashing around him when he exploded.

"D-Donovan. Please..." she whispered, searching his face for the reason why he stopped his furious pace.

She got her answer when he tugged down her neckline, revealing her simple black strapless bra. She blushed at the way he seemed to study her. But he couldn't see her, so she had no reason to be embarrassed. Still, she wanted to cover herself. Donovan didn't give her the chance. He reached behind her and unsnapped her bra with one hand.

'He's done that before.' Scarlet thought idly, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes.

His fingertips were cool against the overheated skin of her breast. He traced one areola and then the other, keeping away from her nipples. They tightened in the cool air and from his touch.

This was new to Scarlet. She hadn't realized how sensitive her breasts were, how much she'd need him to touch them. A soft keening sound escaped her throat when he cupped one, brushing his thumb across her taut nipple lightly. His hips started moving again. Oh, thank god, she was so close! That ache intensified, doubled with the new sensation. He grinned wolfishly and bent suddenly to capture her straining breast with his mouth.