The Sheltered Wife (Working title)
Through her haze Shelby stared at the blood stained sheets. She wanted to forget what happened, but the twinge between her legs was a painful reminder of how Michael had shred her maidenhead in an uncontrollable rage, calling her a tease for making him wait to take her to bed.
Shelby grew up in the Bible Belt, raised thinking a woman should remain virtuous until she married. Michael Sinclair was 22, handsome and charming. His daddy owned a string of posh hotels in Oklahoma City.
When they met at a charity event, she was mesmerized by him, his unrelenting compliments made her giggle like a schoolgirl. They danced and talked, completely ignoring everyone else around them.
Her parents, Griffin and Frances Dane, thought Michael was the perfect man for their 18 year old daughter to marry. So, when he asked Shelby’s father for her hand in marriage Griffin gave his blessing.
The wedding was a predominate display of southern elegance and prosperity. Although they were now husband and wife, Michael’s parents did not show an ounce of warmth towards their son’s young bride. They thought her a trollup for sinking her claws into him and manipulating him into marriage.
Now, here she was, scared and lonely. Far away from the only home she knew. When Michael had finished with her she curled up into a fetal position. weeping. After he donned his crumpled tuxedo he regarded her with obvious disdain.
“The first time is always painful.” He said without a hint of sympathy. “You’re my wife now and you will learn to accept it as part of your duty.”
Shelby changed the sheets, took a shower and crawled into bed, her consciousness giving way to tortured dreams. Michael came back late in the night and possessively wrapped her in his arms. The strong, smell of liquor almost made her gag. After an hour, she finally managed to fall asleep.