If I Disobey the Duke

“Sin… It’s a word for me, not you.”

My ears were filled with a captivating low-pitched voice. It sounded like it came from a cave, thick and deep. It was a diabolical baritone, like a cavern’s deep rumble. Lily didn’t appear to notice how he seemed to be suppressing his rage. This was her first encounter with his voice.

“Tell me. Who were you grieving for till today, our wedding day?”

Lily was dressed in a basic black dress with an uncomfortable and unattractive fabric that encompassed her from neck to toe. Even if she was truly in grief, the gown was far too extravagant.

“Is it in memory of your first spouse, who perished in the war?” Or is it for your second husband who just died recently?

“That’s not the case. I’m honestly… Ah!”

He flipped her over till she was on her hands and knees. A hand slid ruthlessly into her gown. Her scream was followed by the sound of rigid fabric crumpling.

The significance of touch to the inner thigh was evident. As the duke firmly held her by her hair, tension and terror twisted in her gut, leading her to look up and see the religious treasures and sculptures on the wall. Her conscience jerked back.

Lily closed her eyes again, and his voice stabbed through like a punishment.

“Or were you thinking about my demise, your third husband?”

Vladislav de Winter, Duke of Winter. Lily’s third husband as of now. Their wedding was meant to take place in this same chapel. As his fingers sank into the apex of Lily’s thighs, she was unable to respond to his query. Thick, calloused fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive region on her body.

Her entire body was trembling.