Doting Wife Novels & Stories

Dante: My wife! I yelled, "Lola is my wife, not my friend. Yes, we used to be friends, but she is now my wife, which is a major change, and I’ll make it a point to track her down. I am not going to stop looking for her until I locate her."

she whispered. That was a question he also didn’t have an answer for. He backed off her, leaving a good two or three feet between them. His wife slowly stood, her face lined with concern. She had to stop because it was too confusing. What was the appropriate action to these nice gestures she was showering on him? Mama always said good women existed, but he had never believed it. Doris was the only example he had to live with. “You can join me in my office,” he stated.

That I promise. "You look amazing, wife" I drawled softly staring at Melody who was clamped on my front, her arms around my neck and my hands on the lean of her waist. Wife! I was fuckin married, and Melody Laura Cattanio - Alderman Rothschild was my fuckin' wife. Somebody tell me I wasn't in a middle of a fucking dream. " you also washed up nice husband." she fired back, and something that tasted like happiness unfurled in my chest.

Nodding, I slowly take in the area around me, expecting to find the woman who was supposed to be my wife, but when I come up empty, I frown. “Don’t worry,” my father says, as if reading my thoughts. “Denali will be here soon.” “Denali,” I repeat. So that was the name of my wife. It was a pretty name, but it was too bad that it was attached to a woman who was filled with greed. “Wife will be just fine.” If he thought I wasn’t aware of the fact that our union was for power, he was wrong. And I was sure that the woman who went along with it was just like all the other money-hungry she-wolves.

The entire restaurant erupted into applause, and Doran, with a beautiful lady looping her arm around his, walked up to us. "Congratulations to both of you. I am so happy that Olivia has finally brought my friend out of eternal bachelorhood." Doran threw a jab, but his lady playfully hit his hand. "Babe, you have to stop bothering André like this. I wonder how he puts up with you at work." Doran chuckled and pulled his lady closer to himself. "Olivia, this is my wife, Amelia. Amelia, this is Olivia, André's bride-to-be.” I was stunned. I had never seen Doran's wife, but he had mentioned her a couple of times.

I never break my rules. Not for money. Not for loyalty. And certainly not for anyone else’s wife. Yet here I was, standing in a room where power whispered from every corner. The polished mahogany tables gleamed under soft chandeliers, men in tailored suits whispered deals, and yet all I could see was her. Selene Hawthorne moved through the crowd like a storm contained within elegance — untouchable, graceful, and utterly oblivious to the chaos she’d already sown inside me.

She felt his fingers teasing the clit as he ran his finger up and down her hole. "Killian," she whimpered as she tried to push him off. Killian pulled her closer with a rough jerk and slapped her womanhood. "Oh, you’re so wet, Schmetterling, yet you’re pretending to hate this?" Rara turned her head to look up at him. There was raw amusement in his voice. “A wife should know how to satisfy her husband.”

But when I opened the door, it wasn't my wife standing there. It was Ramona Lincoln, my wife's best friend. She wore a tight black bodycon dress that hugged every curve. Her breasts strained against the fabric, full and round, impossible to ignore. The hem barely grazed her thighs, leaving her long, slender legs on full display—sheer black stockings giving way to a teasing glimpse of bare skin at the top. I stood there, stunned. My body reacted instantly. I'd been expecting my wife, so I'd answered the door in nothing but loose shorts. The tent I was pitching was unmistakably obvious.

They are a family, but she can’t be Nikolai’s wife. Nikolai gets something from his drawer and gives it to her. It was only then that she noticed that Nikolai had been wearing a gold ring on his finger. “We’re a complete family, Belle. We’re married. That means you’re still my wife.” He said, giving Belle back her wedding ring.

Just Andrea. Not the wife. Not the architect. Not the woman who always smiled. Just the woman who waited. And was slowly growing tired of waiting.