Beauty--Remastered Ch. 08

Dear lovely readers,

I really hope you love - or at least LIKE - chapter 8, though it's one of the slightly slower chapters. One of my best friends critiqued it and said I added too much to it at the end, and I should save it for chapter 9. So, I'm quite apologetic to say Chapter 9 is where it's at...luckily that's nearly half done ;-)

Also, I want to say, thank you all my faithful readers for continuing to read my stuff. It's not the best, and some chapters have been harder to get on paper than others, but I'm proud of where it's going. For those of you who've given up because of the waits, I thank you as well for going as far as you did. Whether you finish this story with me or not, the fact that you read and vote or comment on it, loves, really makes this feel worthwhile, and like I'll someday get somewhere with practice. So, from the bottom and top and every little corner of my heart, thank you SO much, my loves!

Kisses, Almostluver <3

***

"Get out."

"Don—what?" A startlingly painful ache was beginning to gnaw at her insides.

"I said...get out."

"Please, don't do this."

"Am I supposed to let you and your bastard child stay in my home, and we'll pretend to be a big happy family, then?" He all but shouted.

Before Scarlet realized it, she was across the room, and her hand was stinging from the resounding slap she'd given him. "Don't you *dare* call my baby a bastard!" The force of her own sudden defense of the little stranger inside her shocked her into almost immediate contrition. "I-I'm sorry." She took his hand, but he yanked it away. "Wait, just listen to me for a minute."

"Use that phone I know you've been hiding to call whoever you need to come pick you up, Annabelle." His voice was quieter than she'd ever heard it, and it scared her. "Pack your things and go. I'll have the money I promised set up in an account for you. Abner will bring you the details before you go. I will have the divorce papers filed within the week. You may send Abner your address once you're settled somewhere." He turned to the door, but she caught a hold of his coat, falling to her knees when he pulled on it. "Release me."

She couldn't breathe. "Please. Don't make me leave you–"

"Just go, wife." Donovan left the room.

"Donovan! I'm sorry! I don't know what I did, or how this happened, but I'm sorry." She called after him. A door somewhere slammed and shook the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, hurrying back into her room and slamming the door.

Why wouldn't he listen? She had never been with a man – and she sure as hell wasn't carrying the next Christ-child. So where had it come from?

She sank down on the bed for a split second before her anger rose again. She stood, rushing to her closet and throwing the doors open wide. It was filled almost to bursting with the clothes and accessories Donovan had bought her. She tore the gorgeous dresses and skirts off the hangers, tossing them carelessly on the ground.

Her old clothes, the few he'd allowed her to keep, were pushed to the very back. She took those and threw them on the bed. Adding the very few trinkets and possessions she'd had before their marriage, she stared at the pitiful little mound on the bed. She wouldn't need most of the bags she'd brought.

Straightening her spine, she marched down the hall to the room with her luggage and selected one of the larger bags. It would carry everything. Her phone was tucked into a side pocket and she turned it on.

Joey answered on the third ring. "Scary! I haven't heard from you in too long! How are you? Did hubby make another business trip?"

"Joseph, I need you to come get me." She tried to keep her voice level, without any traces of anger or sadness, but he jumped on it anyway. She heard him fumbling to get his things. He hadn't been lying, all those months ago, when he said the second she wanted to leave, he'd be there. It was almost funny.

"Why? What's wrong? Did he hurt you?"

"N-no." She started shoving clothes and things into her bag willy-nilly, not bothering to fold anything. "I will tell you on the way home, just get here. Fast."

***

An hour and a half later, much sooner than she expected, Joey crashed through her bedroom door. She was lying down on the mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Scary! Are you okay?"

Abner entered hesitantly behind him, a packet of papers in his hands. Scarlet studied him out of the corner of her eye; he seemed very sad. She would miss him as much as he'd miss her, for sure.

"I'm fine. Would you help me with my bag?" The sooner she was out of this damn house, the better. Joey opened his mouth as if to argue, but she just laid back and looked up again.

"Milady–" Abner approached the bed when Joey left.

"I'm not your lady anymore, Abner," she whispered, rolling over to look at him. "You can call me Scarlet."

"You'll always be milady, milady." He chuckled for a moment, and then his voice was sad again. "The master has the bank papers ready for you."

"Give them back. I don't want anything from him. I'm sure you understand."

Abner was shocked. "But what about –"

Scarlet stood up and pulled on her sweater. "Just tell him that I asked that he only keep my mother's hospital bills paid, as he promised. Other than that, he can keep everything."

"Milady, don't do this. Think of the baby."

"We'll be fine, Abner. Thank you, for everything. I'm going to miss you, a lot."

He followed her outside and down to the front door. To her surprise, Donovan was waiting for her there. He didn't have that stony, hurt look anymore, but his expression was sadly blank, his face pale. She squared her shoulders and stopped right in front of him.

"Thank you, Donovan, for being such a wonderful husband." There was no trace of sarcasm in her voice. "I wish you would believe me, so we could figure this out, but I can't say I blame you."

His throat worked for a few moments, but he turned his face away. "Go."

Her eyes filled, but she reached out and hugged him tightly for a moment. He didn't hug her back, but he also didn't pull away. "Goodbye, Donovan. I think...I'll miss you."

On impulse, she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips against his, in a weak replica of the kisses they used to share, even back when they were just starting out. Her heart started to ache when he didn't respond, and she released him suddenly with a hoarse sob and hurried out to the car where Joey was waiting. Scarlet couldn't see through her tears that Donovan's face was slick with his own tears, and how he started down the stairs after her.

She didn't look back as the car sped out of the drive, or as it passed through the gates. Only when it turned a corner, and the house was out of sight, did she turn her head and glance back the way they'd come.

Joey waited as long as he could before he pestered her. She was sitting very still and very quietly beside him, and he didn't like it at all. But he still tried to start off gently, and work his way up to questioning her.

"So...Danny is excited to see you. He's preparing the guest room. He would have come with, but he was still working when you called...it's been so long, Scary. It's good to see you. We should go out and celebrate your homecoming tonight, or maybe tomorrow, since it will be late when we get back."

Scarlet saw the effort he was making, and she appreciated it. "I'm pregnant, Joey."

Perhaps it wasn't the best time, or way, to tell him. The car swerved dangerously for a moment before he got it under control. He pulled over onto the shoulder and put it in park. His eyes were wide as he turned to her.

"*What?* Congratulations!" He hugged her gently, and then squeezed her tighter as if realizing she wasn't suddenly porcelain. "Why are you leaving, then?"

"Remember that time I told you he wouldn't touch me until I asked for it? I still haven't asked. I...I made up my mind, I was going to, tonight. You were right. I was starting to...you know, like – love him. He told me I could stay for two weeks, and then he'd let me go...and that's in two days. I wanted to stay, Joey. But I fell and the doctor came and...I'm pregnant. And it's not Donovan's."

"Well...whose is it?"

"I don't know. I haven't. Y-you know I haven't. I would've told you, wouldn't I? But you and Danny are the only men I'm ever around! Donovan wouldn't listen. He doesn't want me anymore! He said I lied to him."

"I'm sure he's just upset."

"No."

"He'll come around. He'll forgive you."

"After this, I don't know if I can forgive him."

"Shh, don't be like that."

"He called the baby a bastard." She lowered her voice. For some reason, even though she didn't know its father, and hadn't even thought it was possible to have it at all, she couldn't bear to say that word about the little person living inside her. "And I slapped him."

"Well, good for you!"

Scarlet burst into almost happy tears at her best friend's indignation. She reached across the car and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Joey, what am I going to do?"

"First, you're going to nap, while I drive. And then we'll all sit down at home and figure things out."

"Okay," She sat back and let him drive back onto the road. Her eyes closed as exhaustion washed over her. Before she dozed off, she turned to Joey. "I need to talk to my mother. She has some secrets I think I should know."

***

Back at the house, Donovan was on edge. He had stayed outside Scarlet's bedroom for as long as he could, pacing the halls, always getting closer and closer to the room. Finally, he was just outside the door, and he stood in front of it for a long time, unsure if he wanted to open the door. He could just get Abner to clean it up, but the man had busied himself in some other part of the house, and for some reason, Donovan couldn't imagine tearing himself away from being this close to what was once hers, even for the minutes it would take him to find his butler.

When his hand settled on the knob, he hesitated again. Goddamn, he wanted her back. He wanted to be able to open the door and walk right in, regardless of her indignation and insistence that he at least knock. He already missed riling her, even if he hadn't felt much desire to do so lately. Maybe that was his problem. He should have just left things the way they were: with him a cold, unfeeling bastard and her a bratty, prudish bitch.

In his heart, though, he knew that she wasn't a bitch. Everything she'd done was deserved. He'd assaulted her, harassed her, scared her and, most painfully, lied to her.

But, he reasoned with himself, his hand still on the knob, she had lied to him as well. About something much bigger than a simple poker game. She was having a baby with some other man. If she had told him that it was a possibility, he might have accepted it. But the fact that she tried to hide it, make it seem like his, just threw him for a loop.

He turned the knob, but stopped yet again when a thought struck him. She had fought him every time he made a move on her. If she had been trying to hide the baby, he would think that she would jump straight into bed, no matter how much she hated him. It would only take one time. Then she could have pushed him away, and no one would have been the wiser. But, she hadn't done any of that. From all angles, she played the innocent virgin, even up to their first kiss. It was as if she hadn't even done that before.

Could it possibly be true, that she didn't know how the hell she was pregnant? It was crazy, but crazier things had happened. Against his own wishes, he almost began to believe her. He wanted to find out – he *would* find out.

Steeling himself, Donovan entered the room. Immediately, he stumbled into the clothes and other crap Scarlet had left on her floor. Her lingering scent in the room, coupled with the emptiness and knowledge that the emptiness was permanent, made his heart ache. He sank down on his knees and held the dresses to his face, just breathing her in. Her nutmeg scent clung to the cloth. He moaned; despite his sadness and pain, arousal was coursing through his veins, bringing him to painful hardness. It was crazy, but he may have been more ready to fuck the hell out of something – particularly Anabelle – than he ever was when she was there. He wanted – no, needed – her with a ferocity that was quickly overwhelming his brain.

He reached his hand into his trousers, freeing his steely erection. It throbbed in his hand and he worked his hand up and down the long shaft feverishly. Holding the cloth to his face, he moaned and pumped his hips against his fist, remembering the last time he had her in the bath, and the sweet taste of her. More than anything, right this second, he wanted to taste her again.

The Scarlet in his head rose from the water and draped herself over him, straddling his body. Her wet skin slid across his. All he could feel and smell, hear and taste was her. He wished to god that he could see her, correctly. Having a mental idea of what she looked like didn't come close to the real thing, even if she claimed he was close.

"I want you inside me," she whispered, rising up and leaning with his hard length right at the entrance to her core. He slid his hand up her thigh and touched her there; she was slick and wet with something other than water. She squirmed on his fingers, cooing in his ear. She nibbled on his lobe, a sensitive spot and he shuddered so hard, she wobbled to keep her place on his lap.

"Are you sure, baby?"

"You don't want me?" Her soft voice took on a slight pout. His Scarlet had never pouted. She made as if to get off him, but Donovan grabbed her hips and pulled her back down.

Too hard. Too fast.

She screamed when he accidentally seated her completely on him, his hard cock buried as far into her as it ever could be.

"Oh, god, baby!" He froze for a split second before trying to lift her up. She whimpered and fought against him. "I'm so sorry! That was too fast!"

"You...you don't say," she panted, gritting her teeth. "Damn it, Donovan, stop moving me. It hurts!"

He hadn't ever considered taking his wife's virginity in the tub, and definitely not on accident. To him, that act should have been done when they were firmly ensconced in their big bed, and after he had spent the day wooing her. *Not* after he chased her all night through the forest.

"I know it hurts, that's why I'm getting you off."

"Not yet, you're not," She smirked, despite the pain. "Give me a minute, will you? It doesn't feel so bad...I think it's getting better." She wriggled experimentally and chuckled when he hissed. "My thoughts, exactly."

"You're killing me here, Scarlet." He moaned as his whole body tensed when she moved again.

"Says the guy who's buried what feels like a ten-foot iron spike inside me." She settled more firmly into his lap. "Okay, I think this is doable. You can move me, now."

First, he just shifted her a bit so she was comfortable. She winced or sucked in a breath with every move, but didn't say anything to stop him. He knew that her first time would be painful. That didn't mean, however, he liked the fact that he was hurting her.

"Are you going to do it, or not?"

Holding his own body very still, so as not to jar her accidentally, he lifted her a few inches and lowered her again. She laughed.

"That's it? I won't break, Donovan."

"It'll hurt."

Scarlet leaned down and kissed him softly. "I don't care."

He moved her on top of him again, and this time, she didn't wince or anything. He did it again, a little bit faster, and she caught her breath. There was no pain there, he could tell by the tiny whimper he almost missed at the end.

When he kept doing it, her indrawn breaths became louder, turned into all-out gasps, and then moans when he changed his angle. "You like that?"

She laughed and touched her feet to the bottom of the tub, helping him raise and lower her faster. "What gave me away?"

"Then you'll love this!" He lifted her and laid her back on the other side of the tub without leaving her body. She quivered underneath his body when he began thrusting hard and fast, the way she wanted him to. The water sloshed up to her shoulders, even reaching her lips on particularly deep, hard thrusts. She laughed and lifted her head clear of the waves, and met his searching lips.

One of his arms wrapped around her body to support her shoulders from meeting the corner of the bath. The other teased her nipples below the water. She squealed into his mouth when he pinched one and then the other.

"Oh – oh fuck!" His hand worked its way down her body to the apex of her thighs and she clenched on him suddenly. Donovan feared for a moment that she'd snap him clean in half, but she loosened after a moment. It was a relief and a loss at the same time, though she was still vise-tight around him. She kept up that tensing as he rubbed her sweet little clit. Even long after she should've been used to it, her tight pussy squeezed when he touched her.

"More," she whispered brokenly, tearing her lips away from his to gasp for breath. "Oh...please more. So- oh! So close."

He relinquished her clit and hitched her legs up around his waist. It changed the angle of his thrusts, made him hit a spot inside her that tore a soft scream out of her throat. He growled in response and moved faster. Her breath sobbed in and out with each plunge.

"Come for me, baby," His voice was needy, deep, purely sexual.

She whimpered and clung to him, her nails digging half-moons into his skin. He didn't care, or even notice. Her soft cries grew louder, and louder until she was fairly screaming as she approached the edge. He was right there with her. He could feel the end rushing toward him, and he hoped they would come together, or that she would at least come first.

She gasped in a breath and froze, her entire body squeezing around him in an impossible grip. Her pussy contracted, and then fluttered wildly as her orgasm crashed around her. It was almost like a vibration around his cock, and it was enough to tip him over. He exploded into her with a roar. She shook and moaned under him in the strongest orgasm he'd ever witnessed. His own made his eyes roll back in his head, and he slumped when it finished, still twitching occasionally.

Scarlet laid beneath him, finally breathing again. He felt the stuttered rise and fall of her chest against his. The only sound in the room was their mingled, harsh breaths. Then she chuckled faintly. "Why didn't I want you to do that to me before?"

He grinned and pressed his lips to her damp skin, breathing her in. "You didn't love me, then."

"Oh yeah. Whew! Glad that's changed."

He sat up, staying inside her even though he was quickly softening. "It has?"

"Of course it has, Donovan. Didn't you know? I love you."

Donovan blinked. His hand was damp and sticky. The scent of her filled his nostrils and he threw the dress he'd had clamped to his face away violently. It hadn't been real. It couldn't be. His wife wasn't a virgin. She didn't love him. And she was gone.

Damn his brain for making that feel too real.

Anger sang through his veins. It wasn't rational, but he was furious with her for making him fantasize about her. Angry that he wanted her as badly as he did, enough to make that daydream seem like a reality. A fury unlike anything he'd ever know shut down his brain, and made him reach for her discarded dresses.

Within minutes, strips of fabric littered every surface of the room. Her entire wardrobe was decimated in less than ten minutes. His rage, though, hadn't cooled, and he began with the sheets on her bed. Then the curtains in the window. When every single item made of cloth was done, he set in on the bigger things.

Her vanity was in pieces in mere moments. The drawers and shelves from her closet were ripped viciously from the walls. The vase of roses Abner had left on the mantel shattered against the door, spraying water, glass and flower petals everywhere.