My Father In Law's Plus Size Obsession

Evelyn

The bedroom was quiet, but it was never peaceful.

Julian was already fast asleep, his back turned to me like a brick wall. He hadn't spoken a word to me since he walked through the door.

He hadn't looked at me when I served him dinner, and he certainly hadn't reached out to touch me when we got into bed.

He never touched me anymore.

It made my stomach twist into bitter knots just thinking about it. Three years ago, Julian had been obsessed with me. He had pursued me relentlessly, calling my phones off the hook, sending flowers to my job, and literally begging my best friends to convince me to give him a chance.

Back then, he swore he loved every single curve of my slim frame, tracing his hands over my thighs and soft waist like I was made of gold.

I was every man's dream back then and I had a pretty good number of men begging for my hand in marriage but I chose him. I fell in love with only him.

Now? Now that we were married, he treated me like trash. Like a forbidden, repulsive instrument he regretted buying. The moment I gained weight after a stressful year, his warmth turned to ice.

He looked at my soft belly with disgust, he made subtle, cruel comments about my body, and completely locked me out of his bed.

“Why don’t you just let me introduce you to some real men?” my best friend, Nadia, had demanded over lunch last week, as she got furious on my behalf. “Men who actually appreciate a thick, gorgeous woman with curves? Why stay with a bastard who makes you feel like garbage?”

I had shaken my head, unable to bring myself to step outside my vows. As miserable as I was, I still had my dignity. I would rather satisfy myself in the dark than cheat on him.

I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling, my skin warm and prickling with a heavy, aching frustration.

My chest felt tight with a mixture of quiet sorrow and deep, unfulfilled need.

Slowly, carefully, making sure not to rustle the heavy duvet, I slid my right hand down past my waist.

My fingers slipped beneath the soft lace of my nightgown, tracing down the plush curve of my stomach to the warm skin of my inner thigh.

I closed my eyes, letting out a trembling breath, and pressed my fingertips against the wet heat between my legs.

I bit my lower lip hard to trap any sound in my throat. With slow, deliberate circles, I began to touch myself, forcing my mind to go blank.

I stroked over my swollen pussy, my fingers wet with my own moisture as my heart began to pound against my ribs. I rubbed directly over my aching clit, my hips twitching faintly against the mattress as I chased the fleeting, lonely relief.

It was humiliating, but it was the only way I survived the coldness of this house.

I worked my fingers faster, pressing deeper until a sharp, intense wave of pleasure rippled through my hips, making my thighs shiver against my hand.

I held my breath until the peak passed, leaving behind a dull, hollow ache that felt emptier than before.

I pulled my hand back, wiped my fingers on the edge of the sheet, and turned away from my husband to wait for sleep.

_______

_______

The next morning, the sun was barely rising when I stepped through the grand glass doors of Montgomery Enterprises.

As a mid-level campaign coordinator, I kept my head down and threw myself into my work.

Julian had insisted on keeping our marriage a secret at the company, claiming it was unprofessional. In reality, I knew he was just ashamed to be seen with a plus-size wife in front of his high-society colleagues.

The office was buzzing with an unusual, frantic energy. Executives were rushing around adjusting their ties, and assistants were double-checking schedules in hushed tones.

My manager, Sarah, caught my arm the moment I passed the front desk. "Evelyn, thank goodness," she breathed out nervously. "The Founder is back."

"The Founder?" I asked, setting my bag down.

"Marcus Montgomery," she whispered, her eyes wide. "He’s been in Europe for the last two years running international acquisitions. He landed last night, and he’s doing an unannounced walk-through of the whole floor today."

Marcus Montgomery.

My pulse spiked. He was Julian's father, a legendary corporate mogul whose name decorated the top of the skyscraper.

So he's in the city for the first time in three years and Julian won't even tell me? My Father-in-law?

Because Julian and I had married quickly while Marcus was overseas, I had never met the man in person. He didn't even know what his son's wife looked like.

Before I could process the news, the executive elevator chimed down the hall.

The entire floor fell into an absolute, reverent hush.

The doors slid open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out into the bright morning light.

He was strikingly handsome and not the old man I was expecting.

He wore a sharp, tailored charcoal suit that clung perfectly to a broad chest and powerful shoulders. His dark hair was lightly peppered with silver at the temples, and his sharp jawline was set in an expression of effortless command.

He didn't look like an aging executive, he radiated a raw, dangerous, mature masculinity.

As he walked down the aisle alongside two sweating department heads, his sharp, dark eyes swept across the room until they locked directly onto me.

I froze, holding a heavy folder against my chest.

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks. His dark eyes slowly drifted down my body, taking in the full, soft curves of my hips, my defined waist, and the full swell of my chest in my fitted dark blue dress.

There was no disgust in his eyes. No judgment.

Instead, his gaze darkened with a sudden, intense heat that made my heart hammer violently against my ribs.

He looked at my curves like a starving man looking at a feast. "Who is managing the regional digital campaign?" He asked, his deep, gravelly baritone echoing through the silent floor.

Sarah nudged me urgently. "Go on," she hissed under her breath.

I took a slow, steadying breath, smoothed down my dress over my wide hips, and stepped forward to meet the man who owned the empire completely unaware that he was the father of the husband who treated me like trash.