Chapter 4
Eunice Norton had never looked more beautiful, more desirable and yet more aloof than when she stood beside Jack Mordaunt in the office of the City Clerk of Asheville, while a Municipal Court Judge quickly read the marriage service. The only witnesses were Eunice's father, pale and shaken with his anguish at having had to sacrifice his daughter to save his reputation and his bank, as well as his own modest fortune which would have gone under to the coup of the syndicate had he not brought Jack Mordaunt the news that his daughter had agreed to accept the latter as her rightfully wedded spouse.
Eunice wore a white silk dress with pleated skirt, simply cut and modest, yet in Jack's eager eyes it fitted her like water. The pleats - he preferred this type of skirt on a girl, as a matter of fact - emphasized the voluptuous length of Eunice's thighs and highlighted the succulent firmness of her oval contoured bottom cheeks. As to the bodice, it was modesty in rising to the throat, but it clung appetizingly over the widely spaced pears of her superb titties. Her glossy black hair was trimly fixed into an oval bun at the nape of her neck, emphasizing the pure lines of her arching forehead. He licked his lips inwardly at the thought of what he was going to do to her, now that he had the legal right. He could beat her with a stick no thicker than his thumb, if she refused his desires, he knew. He could humiliate her and make her perform the lewdest of acts. The thought of having her naked, kneeling before him, her hands clutching the backs of his thighs, while her soft trembling lips and dainty pink tongue caressed his stiffening prick - or gave him a "trip around the world" by burrowing that arrogant tongue of hers in between the cheeks of his backside - gave him a hard-on which he had to restrain himself to control during the ceremony. It was late afternoon and the ceremony took only five minutes. When the Judge had pronounced them man and wife, Jack Mordaunt took his wife into his arms and kissed her chastely on the forehead, somewhat to her surprise. Her beautiful eyes darkened with anguish, with circles around them which proved that she had wept before making his decision of giving herself to this suave, black-haired, sophisticated man whom she sensed was not going to respect and honor her as a loyal husband: all these flaws made her more beautiful and desirable in Jack Mordaunt's greedy eyes.
Edward Norton came up to his new son-in-law, biting his lips dejectedly.
"Congratulations, Jack," he said in a low, trembling voice, as he offered his hand. "I hope you'll make her happy. She's all I've got, you know."
"Dad," Jack Mordaunt slyly responded, an ironic smile curving his sensual mouth, "your little girl hasn't known what happiness is until now. I'm going to teach her every possible phase and you can depend on it. Oh, by the way, not that I want to disrupt the sentimental mood of this happy occasion by talking business, but I just wanted to let you know I got a wire an hour ago from up north and everything has been taken care of. You haven't got a thing to worry about."
"Thanks - thank God!" the older man fervently responded. Then he put his hands on Eunice's shoulders and kissed her on the lips, almost reverently, as if symbolically bidding her farewell. He didn't know it, but he was doing precisely that.
"I wish you every happiness, darling. And I will never forget how loyal and how brave you've been," he said in a voice low enough for only her to hear. She gave him an affectionate, understanding look, but said nothing. Her warm ivory skin was unusually pale. She felt a little shiver run through her as Jack Mordaunt, having thanked the Judge and slipped him a bill for his services, now turned back to face her. Psychologically, the leave-taking from her father and Jack's taking hold of her hand gave her the terrifying premonition that perhaps the obscene dreams she had had the other night might come true - and again beautiful, haughty Eunice Norton, a pure virgin, had not the faintest inkling of what awaited her from this time forth. If she had known, we must only conjecture whether she still would have married the man who was to become so odiously, her tyrant and her master, the lord of her body and of every intimate thought and portion of her anatomy, in order to save her father. It would assuredly have tried her courage to the utmost, even though at this very moment she believed that she had made an heroic sacrifice.
"Well, we'd better be getting along, Dad," Jack Mordaunt said in a false cheeriness. "We're going to catch the ten-thirty plane for Amarillo. Then we'll stay there a night or two and my foreman, Luis, will meet us and drive us across the border to my hacienda near Aguarmorante."
For the first time since she had arrived at the City Hall to go through this unwanted marriage, Eunice Norton - or rather Eunice Mordaunt now - turned to him with surprise widening her lovely eyes.
"Your hacienda?"
"Sure. Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. I own a ranch there. A few head of cattle, a few fruits and vegetables, a little grain. I let Luis run it for me - he's very capable hand. About ten years ago I invested some of my stock speculation money in a piece of Mexican land and I hit it rich. There was a little oil near the property, so like a good, patriotic citizen, I let the Mexican Government take the lion's share of the profits and leave me just enough to be happy with. In return, I don't have to worry about taxes and I've got a nice comfortable ranch house and a pretty good piece of property, if I do say so myself. We're going to spend our honeymoon there, Eunice."
Her father, pitifully eager to please and to solace his beautiful daughter, broke in with an enthusiasm he did not feel. "I hear Mexico's a beautiful place. You've never been there, Eunice dear and I'm sure you'll enjoy it."
"She will indeed, Dad," Jack Mordaunt promised, but here was a deadly glint in his eyes which made those words ring falsely true!
"We've got a drawing-room all to ourselves, honey," Jack Mordaunt tipped the porter and leaned back comfortably on the upholstered seat, while his beautiful wife nervously seated herself across from him. "Nothing but he best for Jack Mordaunt and his wife, eh, honey?"
"Thank you," Eunice said dully.
"Oh, come on now. That's no way for a blushing bride to act," he chuckled, patting the seat beside himself. "There's plenty of room here on either side of me. Aren't you going to snuggle up against your new husband and get acquainted?"
"I - I've got a slight headache, I'm afraid. I'm awfully sorry, but if you don't mind, I'd rather stay here." Eunice gave him one of her haughty looks, though her tone was soft and apologetic; for this autocratic beauty, it was already a concession to have to express herself thus to this man whom she detested not quite knowing why, part from his one unpardonable act of boldness in having brushed his hand against her bosom. And now suddenly a fiery glow suffused her cheeks as she thought with awakening horror that because that judge this afternoon had muttered a few words over them, this man across from her would have the legal right to demand that she be in bed beside him, naked, her most intimate parts his lawful prey! To think of his sinewy fingers touching her, where they had dared to touch before when she was fully dressed - oh, how could she go through with it, even to save her poor father! And yet she knew that here had been no other hope. She would have to resign herself. She would close her eyes and stiffen herself. Even if he took his marital rights, it would be from a body which grudgingly gave them and he could never touch her inner spirit.
But to her surprise, he was extremely amiable and accepted her explanation: "Sure, honey, I know how it is. Girls get the migraines on their wedding day. I'm not a bad guy and you and I are going to get along fine. I'll tell you what - would you like me to ring for the porter and get you a cold drink or something before we turn in?"
She stared him in remembered horror. To call the porter to make the beds in the compartment would mean only one thing - he wanted to go to bed with her and do that to her! Oh God, could no one save her? And yet she was his wife. And if she told anyone what she feared, they would only laugh at her. He had every right - they were traveling to Mexico together and this was their wedding night.
"No, thank you," she answered him at last.
"You can do one nice thing for me," he suggested with a suave smile. "You can call me Jack."
"All right - Jack. Could we go to sleep right now? This headache of mine is getting worse." Inwardly Eunice complimented herself; she had let him know that she didn't want any sex tonight, even if it was their first night together. Yet she had said it in a way that couldn't possibly hurt him. But if she could have read Jack Mordaunt's mind at this moment, she would have been unable to speak, so great would have been her horrified despair at the project that he was concocting for her taming, her subjugation and her complete conquest. He was going to make her wallow in shame, drink the dregs of it. He was going to make her not much more than a body-slave who would suck his prick, lick his bunghole, try every position in the book that a woman could be fucked in and in short, appease his every physical need. She couldn't know - her feminine mind could not have encompassed so terrifying a future - that at the hacienda she would be little more than a prisoner, subjected to the despotic and lecherous whims of his cruel Mexican foreman and worst of all - a revelation he was saving for her as a special tidbit - to the whims of his beautiful, exotic Mexican-Indian mistress, Dolores Agudo!