dafuq?
"Stop," I pushed her back and wiped the wet feeling off my lips. Wasn't she standing beside the throne? When did she get here?, "What are you doing?" I inquired, my gaze drawn to the alluringly tall woman. But she won't say anything, just answered my question with a cute smile.
"And now, you are officially married," said the brawny middle-aged man sitting on the throne, silencing everyone once more. "Have a happy married life." He declared and then started clapping. The rest of them joined him in clapping their hands; they cheered and congratulated, and a few were still giggling behind their faces, hiding behind others. .
What did he just say? How?
Something stings in my hand. What is this on my finger? An unfamiliar ring found its way onto my ring finger. As plain and simple as it was, it looked like a platinum wedding ring.
Things are moving too fast, and the worst of all is that they are out of my control.
The blushing woman in front of me lifted her hand to show me her matching wedding ring. Her cheeks turned a tint of red as she looked down shyly.
"Wait a minute, there has to be another way.," I said, trying to pull the ring off my finger, but... It's stuck. I don't know what came into me at this moment, but I couldn't care less even if I broke my finger trying to pull it out.
My futile endeavour was halted by a feminine, cold hand that forcefully separated both my hands by holding the wrists. "Stop" I heard a mature and pleasant sound come out of her mouth. So she does speak.
Taking a step forward, she closed down the distance between us, looking straight into my eyes. Her expression was like that of someone who deeply cared for you. Watching her, I couldn't even push her away like I did a moment ago.
Releasing my wrists, her soft palms approached my ears, sliding down onto my cheeks. I lost myself in her gleaming, light blue eyes. I was like a breathing doll at this point, as if she had cast a spell on me.
"Who are you?" I asked her airily. But, instead of answering me, she brought her face closer to mine, eyes vaguely closed but still looking into mine. I felt a slight pull on my jaw, and then fluidly, we kissed. Passionately, she sucked and licked my lips. This isn't the time I should be feeling nostalgic, but I did. Why?
I couldn't push her away this time. Instead, I wrapped my hands around her waist and took a part in the action.
"Get a room, you two." Someone yelled from behind. There were a few more comments thrown in the air, but everything that entered my ears exited from the other without ever reaching the brain.
Finally, she pulled her face away just when I started to feel a bit tired. A lot of mouth action, especially when I am exhausted and drained of more than a litre of blood, is not helping.
Sultrily, she smacked her lips and titled her head the other way, and once again I felt the pull, on my cheeks. I know where this is going, but I didn't do anything against it.
---------------
"There is a car outside, it will drop you home." The leader shook my hand.,"Once again, I wish you a happy married life."
"...." I didn't answer him. More like, I don't know what to say to him.
"Just so you know, you don't have to hold anything against me. It was all for your own good. Things could have ended worse, but see, now you get to go home with a beautiful woman who is also your wife." I turned right to view the woman who held my arm, with her fingers interlocking with mine. She looked at me with a happy face that didn't answer anything. And as of this moment, all I wanted were answers as more and more questions piled up.
"Yes sir" I replied hazily, and turned right towards the exit. The woman followed me by my arm, which, to be honest, was surprising given how I was pulling this off with the little energy I had left with.
The doors closed as I stepped outside the mansion like building, introducing us to a sudden quiet and peaceful atmosphere. For the first time, I saw the vast front yard of the 'Bad Beaver's' main base.
A black S-class sedan waited in front of us with a driver inside. The door was wide open, inviting us inside. I remember feeling uneasy the last time I sat in one of these because it was so comfortable.
"Can you let go off me for a bit. I have to sit inside." I told the girl, who clung onto my shoulder like a koala. Surprisingly, she released my hand, and waited until I sat inside.
There was no need to tell the driver the location of my house, as it already appeared on the navigator on his front dash. It's scary how people get personal information so easily.
"Who are you?" Ignoring me, the woman pulled out a first aid kit from behind the seat.
"What is your name?" She dipped a cotton ball into rubbing alcohol.
"What is it that you really want?" Tugging my knees onto her lap and making me lie down on the soft seat, she tended to my wounds without even uttering a word.
At this point, I am frustrated by her. Even though she is being nice to me now, I can't help but feel annoyed, irritated, vexed, and all that.
I moved my legs off her lap, but she caught hold of them and pulled them back onto her lap so that she could rub more of that stinging alcohol. One thing is for sure, she is abnormally strong for her feminine frame, just like many I know.
My constant fidgeting finally got to her, as she showed me an open palm, but still held onto my legs using her left arm.
She pulled out her phone, wrote something, and handed it to me to read as she bandaged me.
--|| Dear Husband Lynn,
Firstly, thank you for making me the happiest woman in this entire world.
Secondly, I don't have a name. So you can name me anything you want, and I will be happy to receive it.
Thirdly, I don't want to talk about my past. They weren't pleasant memories.
Also, if you think I am forced into this marriage, then, you are wrong. I love you...||--
After reading this bot-like note, I looked at her face. She was blushing while she bandaged my legs. How can someone be so childlike and mature looking at the same time.
Slipping my knees off her, she pulled my torso onto her lap to tend to the wounds on my face and arms.
"I think you are lying."
She shook her head horizontally, implying a 'no', and once again dipped a new cotton ball in rubbing alcohol.
"Are we really married?" This time she shook her head vertically, implying a 'yes'
"Can we divor." She shut my mouth with her fingers and gave me a worrisome look, as if this was a forbidden topic I should never talk about.