Summary: After an amazing night with an amazing man, Missy was feeling on top of the world, until that man - the tall, dark, handsome and dominant William declared his love for her and raped her. Now, by law, they must marry. Today is the day of the wedding.
Author's note: While the groom/rapist loves Missy very deeply and tries to be gentle with her, the rape that takes place in this story is emotionally brutal and reduces her to tears. If you're not into non-consent fantasies, this is not for you.
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*Rape victim,* Missy thought to herself, holding her own eye contact in the mirror. It had been days and the words weren't any easier to place on herself.
She resisted the instinct to fan her eyes, holding onto her bouquet of flowers instead with both hands. Even though her makeup was waterproof, she still feared it would run as she held back tears.
A life destroyed looked back at her.
*It's law,* marrying one's rapist.
He'd been her employer's boss at one point. Ten years her senior, but he'd been handsome - really handsome, and dapper, wearing a suit and tie and having a pleasant scent to him that she'd suspected was natural. Tall and strong. Far too strong for her to fight. She'd been nervous and way out of her depth at the gala, underdressed and shy, but somehow she'd ended up having a really great time with him. Charming, funny, and the only person there she could talk to. They'd talked about anything and everything - she'd even told him some things she hadn't really meant to, but he'd taken it all in stride.
Maybe it had been the champagne, but she would have said yes to seeing him again. She might have even said yes to a date.
Then he'd said he loved her.
For a full night, from just after eleven thirty at night till nearly three in the morning, he'd had her. Bouts of being fucked by him against her will. Of crying, of being forcibly cuddled - sometimes with him inside her - and of him using her in different positions to find how he liked her best, alternating between being rough with her and gentle. Over and over again, he'd filled her private area with his unwanted seed. He'd even forced himself inside her *mouth*.
She'd never even had sex before.
Now she wore her wedding dress, set to marry him, as was the law. It stung her to wear it. It was flattering for her figure, styled in a way that she liked, and it was obviously expensive. It really did make her feel like a princess, and that was the problem. It was a dress she was supposed to wear for a man that she loved, but it was for him. All to make her look beautiful for *him*.
He'd gone all out with the rest of the wedding too, hiring the cars, the hairdressers and makeup artists who'd worked on her, the hotel rooms, the venue, everything, and he'd paid for all of it. Obligated by the law or not, he'd gone out of his way to make it a big event, reaching out to and inviting many of the people in her life to the ceremony. So many of the people in his life were coming too.
Being on the wrong side of the law simply hadn't been an issue for him.
He'd talked to her a lot the morning after it had happened. Consoled her as her life lay in ruins, held her as she'd cried, then head off to speak with the police.
Later that day, she'd heard from her parents. He'd been to see them, told them everything, and had gotten her father's permission for her hand, even talked to her mother to help design the wedding with both of them in mind. Supposedly they'd been upset at first to hear that their daughter had been raped, but now they somehow liked him.
She was so lucky, they'd told her, to have a fiancé like him, especially since she'd 'clearly had such chemistry with him that he was already willing to spend the rest of his life with her'. Her friends had been the same way. The guests all knew why the wedding was happening - what he'd done to her - they were just keeping quiet about it, or somehow they really didn't think it was a big deal.
Only he really seemed to understand her view of things, and that had hurt as much as anything else. That even after everything he'd done, after her night of hell, he'd had the gall to try to be considerate. Even when she'd been completely unable to be around him, he'd been right there to cry with when everyone else was being so casual about everything.
She looked down at the dress and briefly considered tearing it off.
What kind of life was this?
"I know it's bad luck, but I had to see you," he said, and she spun around. Her heart jerking in her chest. He was in the room and she hadn't realized.
"No! Fuck off!" she shouted. She threw the flowers down between them and backed away from him.
William stood in the doorway, his eyes on her. Two chips of blue sky under intense eyebrows, a shadow cast over them by his mop of black hair that was cut short at the sides. That hair almost touched the top of the doorframe he was so tall. A jawline sharp enough to cut. He wore his wedding suit, looking even more handsome than he had that night - black with a grey waistcoat, fitted to his V-shaped figure, a white lily for his buttonhole. He'd had a beard then, and now he was clean-shaven.
*Constrained power,* was what she'd thought when she'd first saw him, like he could reach out and anyone's neck.
He stood there like he was happy.
"I've been thinking about you; I had to come check on you. I can see you're upset, but whatever happens, it's going to be okay today, darling. I want you to know that I love you. However you feel, you do deserve to be happy on your wedding day."
"Fuck off!" She emphasized both words.
He shut the door, leaving the two of them alone, and she backed away further.
"It's been days, Missy. I know how badly you're doing, but I'm telling you, it's going to be okay. I can make it okay."
She ran out of space to back away into, the hotel room bed right behind her. Not having anything to hand, she pulled her hair out of the bun it had been done up in, threw the hairpin to the floor and stamped on it, her hair falling around her face. The hairdressers had worked hard on her hair, but they *really* weren't her concern right now.
His eyes didn't leave hers. The charming smile she'd thought attractive upon meeting him was there.
"I know you felt it too when we met. The love we could have together."
"You're a rapist, you don't know what love is."
"I do, you know. Better than you I think. I knew you were the one for me, and I'm that sure you're going to feel the same way about me too. I love-"
"No! Don't say it!" she cried, tears spilling out of her eyes.
