Deed to Damnation

Wicked Games

Henry rode off after breakfast, leaving Ireland to wonder about the upcoming nuptials while he headed towards the bigger town of River Run. He brought his right hand man with him and let him in on his plans.
"So you're going to marry this woman? Why?"
Marley Anderson had a long history with Henry Delarue and knew the outlaw better than anyone. Hearing that he planned to wed was a shock to say the very least.
"Rumor has it you're doing it for her." Marley laughed.
Marley knew that Henry Delarue rarely did anything for anybody unless there was something in it for him. It was one of the reasons for his wealth but it was also what made him a ruthless man.
Henry only smiled at the question.
"What? You don't think I can settle down, have a bunch of kids?" He smirked.
Marley gave a short laugh.
"No. No I don't, Henry. Although that wench sure is fine."
Henry shot him a side eye. He knew how fine Ireland Devereaux was but didn't appreciate being reminded of it even if it was one of his closest allies.
"Hope she doesn't let herself go to shit." Marley teased.
"How bout you stop worrying about what's mine?" Henry grumbled. "I don't let  any of my things go to shit, Marley."
"Things?" Marley remarked.
"Ireland Devereaux is an educated woman. She's different from most of the transient shit that slithers its way west." Henry said. "She's got quite a mind for business and numbers. She was educated in New York and that inn I inherited would have been just fine if that loser of a fathers hadn't gambled it away. She ran it, not him. I don't mind stamping my name on her. Like you said, she is a fine piece of ass and she's also a religious sheep that honors her vows. How many women in these parts can you say that about? She'll remain faithful to me on that alone and she'll make me more money with that building than I'm making now."
"Does she know you don't love her?" Marley asked.
"Come now, Marley. Of course I love her." Henry grinned. "I love what she will do for me."
Marley let out an amused huff.
"Figured. But why don't you just make her do it?"
Henry gave him a look of mild annoyance.
"Because I want her to want to do it, jackass. Any other way and her shit will be a half assed mess on purpose." He barked.
Delarue went silent after that. It was an unspoken warning to drop the subject and Marley heeded it even after the return from River Run. Still, it wasn't like his boss to be so tolerant of anyone that was so resistant to what he wanted. He had taken more than just a passing interest in this conquest.

When Henry returned he found Ireland where he left her, sitting in a room by herself. He brought several packages wrapped in plain brown paper tied up in bright colored ribbon and tossed them on the bed.
"Open them." He told her, stripping off his duster.
He saw how glum she was but didn't comment on it. Instead, he poured a whiskey from the decanter on the dresser and sat on the bed.
"Is this how it's going to be for me?" She snapped. "Sitting around here waiting for your return with baited breath?"
"Be quiet or I'll find something to do with your mouth." He warned.
Ireland snatched one of the gifts and tore it open carelessly. She stared down at the contents.
"Clothing, Ireland." He drawled. "Clothing that's befitting of my wife."
Ireland honestly thought Henry's tastes would run somewhere between harlot and jezebel considering he liked to surround himself with pretty girls that were scantily dressed. Instead, she found herself holding a finely made garment of silk and lace. It was the most unusual color, changing with the light from ivory to the palest of green. It reminded her of New York, not the daring, bawdy gowns of Paris that Missy and the other girls fancied.
"Do not make me tear that from you." He cautioned. "It was expensive. If I have to do that, I can promise you I'll break in my brand new belt on your ass."
Ireland didn't even respond to the threat. She picked up the dress and stood, letting the sheet fall without any shame. Holding it to her body, it was hard not to show how much she adored it. She never dreamed of owning anything like this and the last person she expected it from was him. The material was so striking and although the neckline dipped down, her décolletage would be covered in delicate lace that would teasingly reveal her cleavage. She looked to Henry who was appraising her unabashedly. Her body flushed and her cheeks turned pink at his lusty gaze. He licked his lips.
"Open the smaller package." He ordered, leaning forward on his knees.
Gingerly placing the gown on the bed, she did as he asked but this time she was more gentle unwrapping it. It was lacy undergarments in different colors complete with garters and silky stockings. Of course there were corsets too as Henry seemed to like those the most.
"I want you to wear the white on our wedding night." He said.
"Are you going to pretend I'm a virginal bride?" She quipped. "We both know better, don't we?"
Henry scowled and stood up. In one long stride, he was in her space, cupping her chin in his palm and squeezing until her lips puffed in an exaggerated pout.
"You should be quite comfortable with pretending, Ire." He said softly. "Your protesting when I fuck you is very convincing although that sweet, little cunny between your legs gives you away every damn time."
He kissed her pouty lips and bit the bottom one gently, holding her eyes in a knowing gaze. Heat rushed through her at the taste of him and the coarse feel of his whiskers against her chin. She steeled herself against the flood of feelings as he released her lip with a small, sensual suck.
"Well as long as you like my little act, why don't we play it out completely?" She said sweetly. "Since I'm to pretend to be the blushing bride, I expect you to respect my boundaries. You said you were doing this for me, right? You said even a man like you might be able to save a sinner like me, remember?"
She had shoved his exact words right back at him. She was such a righteous little bitch, he thought as she held unwavering eye contact.  It was apparent she expected him not to touch her until the marriage was official.
"It's a little late for that, isn't it?" He asked impatiently. "It's not my soul on the line."
"You're the reason mine is." She countered. "And you having at me got me here in the first place."
He contemplated her coldly. The urge to slap her senseless was all consuming. Never in his life had he ever stopped himself from following through on his whims nor had he ever run across a woman so blind in her faith. If she thought he was going to keep off of her just because they weren't married she was more than religious, she was delusional.
"Then we'll be wedded tonight if that's the way you see it." He drawled. "That right there is your wedding dress."
"Tonight? My wedding dress?" She cried. "I'm not ready! We haven't even told the pastor and this gown isn't white!"
"White enough for you." He smirked. "You have an appointment with the tailor tomorrow and more packages will be arriving. So what will it be? Tonight or when you're fitted to be my a bride?"
"Will you honor my wishes then? Do you think you can manage to not paw at me for such a long period of time?" She asked sarcastically.
Henry bit his lip and let his eyes travel from her mussed hair and exasperated face to the tops of her dainty, bare feet. She was clinging to the dress, holding it against her nakedness like a shield.
"I take what I want, Ire. Besides, you should ask yourself the same thing." He teased, pulling the dress from her grasp and grabbing her upper arms tightly.
He pulled her into him, devouring her mouth with a deep kiss, the warmth of her skin penetrating through his shirt and Ireland felt weak kneed and breathless. When he released her, her cheeks were flushed pink and she found herself grasping his leather vest, holding him to her. With a gasp, she pushed off of him, embarrassed by her reaction.
"I expect you to be dressed and ready for cards tonight." He told her with a sly grin. "We'll announce our engagement with a toast. I want my fiancé on my arm catering to my needs."