Being A Trophy Husband Is Exhausting Novels & Stories

"Ethan mehn, in a month time you will be a married man and you will leave your single best friend alone in this bachelor thing . After the marriage comes the mutual night and then the result of your efforts. You are such a lucky man, bro. I have not found anyone to call my own. It seems as if almost all the girls I have ever seen or come in contact with, are the same.. Money wanting and classy bitches, who cannot offer anything. "Clinton stopped and pouted himself a glass of Brandy. "Mehn girls are all the same. I am so certain that immediately after I get married to that thrash of a girl, she will demand money from me every single minute of the day, as though I am her bank but I will make s

Father sold me for that much? "You're surprised? Do you doubt your own worth?" He teased me again before pulling me closer to his half-nude body, close enough so he could whisper into my ears, "you're nothing but a trophy wife, and do you know what a good trophy wife does?" His free hand slithered to my left breast to pull the slightly erect nipple through the thin linen of my bra. I tiny moan escaped me but it was loud enough for him to hear,

"Aww, but why? Aren't you being ungrateful, I served you last night pretty well? Well, after all we are husband and wife so it's not a one night stand. And I'm not forgetting it nor I will make you." He stretched his back as he placed his hands at the back of the head set. Another step towards victory now he had a control over her with that lie. And probably she had been thinking about breaking their marriage and yes of course what to do about him. Nathalie returned home completely wasted and tripped over the table in their which hurt her waist, Lucas never approached her since she was drunk and helpless. The lady was now raging like a bull ready to whack and smash his head.

I’m not some voyeur into multi-partner arrangements—especially not when the man in the scene is my own husband. I don’t know how the other trophy wives of billionaires manage it. But me? I can’t stay that calm. If not for my current predicament, I swear I’d dump scalding coffee right onto that bastard’s dick. I coughed again. My husband, Cary, finally lifted his handsome face from the woman’s overflowing cleavage (seriously, how was he not suffocating?) and glared at me. “Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” he growled, voice sharp with irritation.

he snapped at them. That man is rich. He is married and his wife is a socialite. He has so many mistresses, that he doesn't know how many kids he sired so far. Most of them get an abortion, but only a few will keep the child to threaten him for money. Little do they k for that he is so cruel that he never hesitated to kill any of them, even the little kids. His wife is happy as long as gives her enough money for her endless shopping spree. He never asked if she had an affair as long as she maintains it a secret.

“How many times have you slept with Alice over the years? A dozen? Less?” “That’s none of your business…” “Either way,” Arlington interrupted, his eyes never leaving me. “You’ve been married three years and no children. So, either you weren’t performing your husbandly duties or you have fertility issues. Three years is a long time without planting a seed, isn’t it?” “Remarkably long,” Adam chimed, shaking his head. “You two might think you know me, my relationship with Alice,” I stated, crossing my arms. “But you know nothing. That child is mine and nothing is going to stop me from being a father. Especially not my pathetic friend or my wife’s secret admirer.”

"What's with the stupid name?!" "Scarlette, stop teasing her," Drix laughed. "She'll blow up if you don't," they laughed at my embarrassment. I folded my arms and shifted away from Scarlette to ignore them. It's not like I didn't want to do anything, he just never gave me the chance to. I never got the chance to get excited on my own because my beautiful husband is just glorious. The moment we are alone, his hands glue themselves to my body and he sets it on fire. Does it matter when at the end of the day he gets what he wants? A dishevelled and weakened wife covered in sweat and semen, and satisfaction?

"You seriously wanted to continue? Aren't you exhausted?" "Don't you enjoy it?" he asked. "Well..." I raised my eyebrows, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Actually, I do." How could I not? My husband was spectacularly endowed, skilled, and had the stamina of an athlete. And he was all mine. God, how did I get so lucky?

I thundered and he growled, grabbing my arms as he shook me with his fierce gray orbs transfixed on mine. "I never fucking hated you, woman! I loved you, in fact, even before you decided you loved me too. The thing was that I hated it. I hated that I had fallen in love with you after I promised myself that I would hate you because my father forced you on me. Then I realized that you were the worst trophy wife ever; you did not deserve the emotionless marriage I was giving you. You did not deserve how badly I was treating you; even if that is the exact way most men like me treat their trophy wives. Most trophy wives were okay with it as long as they got money.

He knew he had me trapped. “My husband, Conrad, is a man who has always been devoted to the things and people he values most. I am his wife, and his treasure. ”I paused, forcing my lips to curve into the kind of composed, pleasant smile I had mastered over the years. “His life has always revolved around one person and one person only. It’s clear to anyone who knows him that he pours his energy and passion into protecting what he values most in the world.”