A/N: Sorry for the long wait.
So this chapter is M and if anyone feels uncomfortable reading, please just leave it out.
Ella stood shivering in the bedroom, waiting for Roger to come to her. He had left a few minutes ago, telling her he needed to call someone. She was nervous as could be, as he finally opened the door again – dressed still in his tuxedo, with his necktie hanging loosely around. There was something awkward around him.
Ella drew back instantly, when she noted his strange stare at her.
Roger laughed, making her feel even more uneasy.
He poured out two glasses of champagne handing her one.
"Thank you," Ella silently told him.
She still felt like she was dreaming the whole thing. After having said yes to him, there had been loud cheers from everyone around. Everyone had seemed so happy, especially her aunt, while for herself everything was a blur.
What did she really know about the man standing in front of her?
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how her newly wed husband was watching her.
"Aren't you a little uncomfortable with your heavy clothes?"
What was this weird grin for?
Ella didn't know. Neither her aunt nor Grace had taken the effort to tell her the truth.
She didn't answer him, but simply took a sip from her glass. Never having drunken alcohol before, save for a small glass of wine today at her wedding, she immediately felt dizzy, touching her forehead and grabbing the table.
Roger kept her from falling.
"I think you should sit down, darling," he said, leading her over to the bed.
Before Ella knew what was happening, he had taken a seat beside her and moved one hand around her back, rubbing it, while the other was caressing her neck. Ella stiffened, having no idea what to do.
What did he want from her?
"You're beautiful, my dear," he told her brushing a stain of her hair aside that had fallen in her face.
Frankly he didn't care a bit about her as a person, however his manly needs were slowly but surely pushing their way forward. A young innocent wife was just what he needed right now.
He wanted her. He couldn't wait any longer.
Ella smiled uneasily at him.
'Remember to do everything your husband tells you. He has enough things to worry about and doesn't need to agonize himself about you as well. A wife should always do their best to make her husband feel better,' her aunt had told her, while preparing her for her wedding.
Ella had nodded, not really understanding what she had spoken about.
Her mind drifted off, thinking of the wedding festivities.
Roger slowly started to open up her dress. The alcohol, the strange feeling, the wedding, it all added to the fact that Ella at first wasn't alerted. Only after a while did she start to stop him.
"What are you doing?" her voice was as innocent and unknowing as could be, her eyes looking at him just like he had expected her she would.
For a moment Roger was taken aback, thinking that maybe they should…but he quickly pushed that thought away. It was her duty as wife to please him, whenever he desired it.
"Don't worry, it's alright. You'll see I'll make you feel good."
He moved her wedding dress off her shoulder, pushing her hand roughly aside, while beginning to kiss her neck. The bulge in his pants was slowly growing.
"I've no…," she wanted to tell him, but Roger just ignored her forcefully kissing her on her mouth. Ella felt sick, wanting to throw up.
"I'm going to show you."
He pushed her further down on the bed, moving her hand onto his member.
Her shocked eyes, only added to his arousal, while he continued to push her hand further against him.
Roger felt like he would orgasm soon and stopped her. She should know from the beginning what it was like to be a wife. With a quick movement he had removed his trousers and the rest of her clothes.
"I don't think that…"
Again he ignored her protests, instead pushing a finger inside her wet opening. Ella wanted to draw over, but he stopped her again.
"I like girls, who resist at first. It makes it even more delightful," he told her his voice sick with desire.
He moved his head down on her breast, making her nipples hard and red. Silent tears were streaming down Ella's face. Roger couldn't care less.
"Please, let me…," she started to beg him, while knowing instantly that it was no use.
"Darling, you will know what it means like to pleasure a man," he whispered into her ear.
Before Ella could react, he had already proceeded forward, pushing himself into her, grunting heavily. Ella was staring at the ceiling, while in was entering her harder and harder by the minute, her eyes then focusing on a shade at the window. Then a sharp pain shot through her body, while this man, this monster, above her was still thrusting inside her. His throbbing grew to be nearly unbearable.
"God…darling…," she heard him moaning.
Ella had closed her eyes for a quick second, biting her lips. She didn't want to look at him.
The pain subsiding at last, she felt him collapse on her.
When it finally ended, he was breathing heavily, but despite this he seemed to be content and happy, while Ella horrified was noticing stains of blood underneath her. Roger didn't bother to tell her the truth, but was pleased that she had indeed been a virgin.
He smiled at her, touching her hair.
"I hope it was as wonderful for you, as it was for me," he told her, grinning down at her, knowing full well that it wasn't. "I understand how the first time is always a little…hard…"
Ella looked at him shocked. His voice wasn't any more comforting as it had been before.
He kissed her cheek lightly.
This was what being a woman meant? This was what everyone kept whispering about?
To be honest, she didn't think that she would ever enjoy it.
"It'll get better with time, you'll see," he told her.
Ella gulped.
Why would any woman want a next time?
Finally Roger led his head down beside her and Ella was relieved, when she at last heard him snoring.
Ella not knowing what was happening at her wedding night is in fact not that abnormal for the times being. While in the 18th century (and before) girls were mainly told about the duties of a woman, but after the enlightenment and especially since the prude Victorian area, everything sexual was whispered about, if any.
Especially in the upper classes girls were left in the dark, as much that one could say quite openly that they were more or less raped during their wedding night. This caused many unamusing situations f. e. the Princess Louise of Coburg states in her memories that she was running out in the garden shocked, while Stefan Zweig wrote about an aunt of his how she was telling her parents how upset she was that they had been marrying her off to an insane man, who wanted to see her naked.