The Dragon Prince's Bride
Chapter 62. Why did you marry me?

Chapter 62: 62. Why did you marry me?

Maybe she had expected it... No, not maybe. She had indeed expected it. If not all of her, at least a part of her had expected it, Neriah could not deny this. She wished she could but she could not.

And when it finally came, for the earlier seconds of the kiss she was dazed, completely lost in a trance. Buried in the arms of her very strong husband, slowly drowning in his manly scent.

Her senses were heightened at his touch, her body curved into his in a familiar way. Almost as if her body instinctively recognized his own. His tongue drove deep into her mouth, mingling with hers, reaching her throat, completely taking her breath away.

She was completely lost in his kisses.

That was until she realized that she could no longer feel her feet touching the ground and instantly, her eyes which she did not even realize were closed, flew open.

"You—" She tried to speak as soon as she realized where this was headed. But he was strong. She should have known that by now but she refused to be overpowered by her vulgar barbarian! She began to claw at his arms and shoulder.

"Let me—" she mumbled as he forced his lips on hers and pressed her body upon his own. The imbecile! "Release me!" She manged to say when he let go of her lips only to take them back almost instantaneously. She kicked and punched, and she wiggled like a snake in his arms, refusing to just stay put like a puppet wife and please her dear husband.

"Ahh!" He yelped and immediately she was dropped back to the ground. "You little—" he hissed and touched his lips with his thumb, "Why are you always biting?! Are you some sort of rabid beast!" He snapped as he continued to touch his lips.

"Do not touch me! Just because I have been forced into being your wife does not mean I have any sort of obligation towards you! Do not touch me! I will scream and pull this entire building down!" She sneered and it only received a scoff from him as he ran his fingers through his hair, silently staring at her.

Neriah could still feel her lips, they felt like they were thumping. She could feel they were swollen. The crazy beast! How dare he. Her entire system was red with anger. Anger and... Something else.

Quickly, she walked toward the bed, dragged down a bedcover and wrapped it over her shoulders. She was suddenly feeling too exposed, she was in clothes and yet his eyes made her seem naked!

She was not going to give him any reason to touch her.

Barak sniggered as he silently watched her scurry toward the bed and then back to the chair near the balcony. "I will have my revenge, princess." He suddenly said and it caused her to eye him wickedly as she wondered what in the world he was talking about again.

"I can taste my blood." He said as he slowly began to take off his clothes. Much to Neriah’s horror. "I will make sure I also draw blood from your lips very soon." He smiled as his shirt came off next and he waltzed towards the bathroom in a princely manner. At least he wasn’t taking off his pants, Neriah breathed a sigh of relief at this thought.

But then she wondered, "Why did you insist on marrying me?" She had to know. Was he some sort of masochist? After all she had done, after all her efforts to break the engagement. Why did he still insist on marrying her?

Barak turned from the bathroom door and looked at her, "I know you do not love me. I know you hate me as much as I detest you, so why in Avelah would you choose to shackle us both in such a marriage!" She hissed bitterly.

She just could not understand the man. What kind of man would insist on marrying someone who literally plotted to take their head. Was he daring or foolish!

"You see my dear wife," He spoke and a little smile tugged at his lips, "that is where you are horribly wrong." He snickered. "Although you detest me and regard another in your heart, I, my dear, I am smitten by you." He confessed and Neriah’s mouth opened as she was dumbfounded.

Slowly, with his eyes locked on her, his feet moved him back to where she sat, and he bent his back to meet her. Neriah leaned backward as he moved all up in her space and his hand gently held her chin. She twisted her head to the other side but his hand on her chin was firm and he pulled her head to face him again.

"That night," he breathed over her lips, staring into her eyes and Neriah clenched her teeth and her stomach turned, "it was no mere talk when I told you I had never wanted anyone with such vehemence before," his voice was a low growl, it sounded guttural. Like it came from deep within his throat, sending shivers—warm shivers—down her spine, "and after all your tricks and schemes, my desire to have you, to conquer and consume you has only heightened." The tension rose between them and it was undeniable. Even she could not deny it. It was visibly there.

"You have left me so smitten. Do you think I will allow you the liberty of being happy by running into the arms of another man? No my dear Spitfire. No... I shall have you for myself and I shall have you over and over till I make you completely mine."

Neriah could see it now. He really was a masochist. Her plans were useless because the man clearly enjoyed being trampled upon and he would diligently dish out as much as she had given. He was a masochist as much as he was a sadist. She had been right, this marriage was a punishment to her. He knew all she wanted was to be with Lyle, so what was the best way to punish her for what she did? It was to take her away from Lyle! The bastard. She had never met anyone more wicked than the beast who was breathing on her lips right that moment.

"I will never be yours." She choked the words out. He was despicable in her eyes. A boisterous laughter erupted and filled the room and that moment his hands on her chin fell to her side and he buried his head upon her shoulder, much to her disdain as he laughed even harder.

"Oh heavens." He chuckled as he tried to quiet down his laughter. "My dear, dear Spitfire." He lifted his head and stared into her eyes, eyes so green yet so dark tonight, "You already are." He smirked as he brought his lips to her ears and whispered, "Crown Princess Neriah Claudia Barak Der Drache... You already are mine."

Those were the last words Neriah heard him speak that night. She had no idea when he moved away from her for she was dazed. Because no matter how much she tried to deny it, no matter how many times she tried to tell herself no, she came back to the conclusion that he was right. She was no longer Princess Neriah of Avelah. She was now Crown princess Neriah of Trago. Wife of Crown prince Barak of Trago.

She was his... Irrevocably so.

Lords! She was doomed.

Her life was finished. "Lyle." She muttered his name to herself over and over again, "Lyle." She prayed he would appear before her and whisk her away from this nightmare. So she remained on the seat near the balcony muttering his name deep into the night till she lost consciousness and sleep washed over her. And even in her dreams she searched for him, but he did not show. Instead her nightmares continued as only that vile man showed. That man who was her husband. And yet again he tortured her, tormented her and damned her.

She needed a savior, desperately. And she needed that savior to be Lyle. "Dear goddess, send Lyle to my rescue." She desperately prayed in her nightmare. "Or at least let me wake up and find myself far away from this beast."

But the goddess was silent.

Neriah felt deserted. Her life was indeed ruined now.

By the time the rays of sunlight touched her cheek the next morning, she could hear the birds chirping beautifully, and she could smell delicious mouth-watering delicacies, Neriah almost believed her prayers had been answered in her sleep. But when her eyes opened, she quickly realized it was only wishful thinking.

For there he sat in front of a table with a variety of food before him. He was fully dressed... Like a true prince this time. He really is a prince, Neriah thought as she stared at him sitting there with his legs crossed and his knuckles entwined in front of him.

His black hair glistened like obsidian, and his dark skin touched by sunlight shimmered brilliantly. Those golden eyes were bright and beautiful. He was in every way the word majestic. The most ruggedly beautiful thing she had ever seen and her thoughts on that, between their first night and now—Neriah realized—hadn’t changed one bit. He was still beautiful, in the most manly way.

"If you are done ogling your husband, then wash your face and come have breakfast with me." His menacing voice snapped her out of her madness. He was not beautiful at all! He was the most ugly creature she had ever seen! Damn him!! Damn him to hell.

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