Husband Hates Wife Romance Novels Novels & Stories

Gemma’s eyes lit up at the information and she nodded wordlessly before turning on her heels to go finish the job. My smile faded once she left and I couldn't help but collapse onto one of the nearby sofa in the room. Xavier’s study. I'd been spending way too much time in here, ever since he left. Reading his books, snooping through past projects and admiring trophies he'd hung on the wall. My husband was one hell of a workaholic. He was always focused on making new achievements regardless of the cost and maybe that was what made me worry constantly about him. We'd been married for over two years now and the only time Xavier genuinely looks peaceful is when he's in the middle of work. He eve

“My wife is the sexiest woman in the goddamn world, and I’m not an asshole for wanting to screw her. It doesn’t matter how pissed off you make me, I’m gonna want you as much as I did last night. So take off those goddamn clothes and bend over.” “You’re still demanding me to do something...” “You married me so I could protect you, preserve your hotel, and chase away the bad guys. I’ve upheld my end of the bargain...now it’s time to uphold yours.” “That’s so romantic…” He raised his brow. “You don’t think a husband wanting his wife is romantic? A man who wants one woman so much that it drives him fucking crazy? A man who will be faithful even when he doesn’t have to because there’s only one wo

After our honeymoon experience which lasted for a week, my husband came to love sex so deeply. He comes for it, asks for it, and desires it now and then. To me, it became what he thinks and dreams of. It became his primary concern and objective. This made me start hating him, disrespecting him, and devaluing him. In addition to the fact that I was not a sex-loving person, my hatred for my husband because of his love and demand for sex made me feel rebarbative of our marital sex life. This made our sex unromantic. I hardly allow him to sleep with me, except for procreation or when I resolved to pity him, however, I would just lie down like wood for him and refused his kisses, and touches, 'Ju

"What's this?" "Romance novel," said Harriet. “...” Liam was speechless at first, but then slowly raised his voice, “But they… started making love to each other in chapter two?” "Mm-hm," Harriet nodded casually. Liam turned his head back to get a better look at Harriet's expression. “And you, my dear wife, can read things… like this… with such a straight face?” Harriet glanced at him and smiled. “I can read this novel in the middle of a restaurant without making any reactions now that I'm used to it.”

“I searched everywhere for you until I decided to come home, and what did I see? My wife with some other man in my house?” “He only brought me back home when you were kissing some lady who was not your wife!” Davy blew a harsh breath, veins jutting on his forehead. "Look, Anna, I am tired, and I am not going to argue with you. I didn’t kiss her, okay?" I inhaled a ragged breath. “Fine, you say you didn’t kiss her, yet you definitely encouraged her. What the hell is wrong with you, Davy? Do you hate me so much that you keep disregarding and disrespecting me? You always entertain them, letting them call you by a name only I call you, letting them touch you, buying gifts, bringing a strange wom

Angelica wailed, burying her face against his arm in a desperate plea for comfort. A sharp, irritated grunt escaped Cassidy's chest. He felt a burning spike of resentment—he was sick and tired of Angelica still clinging to her husband with no actual intention of walking away. But deeper than that, a hot, agonizing flare of jealousy gutted him at the thought of his own wife, Sophie, throwing herself back at Collin. "Why the hell are you still playing happy family with him anyway?!" Cassidy snapped bitterly. "You promised me you were getting a divorce!"

he grimaced as if the thought of having sex with me, his wife, was disgusting to him. My fingers curled more into the dressing table. My heart broke at his words, my chest cramped, it felt like there was a shard in my heart that drove deeper each time he spoke wickedly to me. Each time he made his hate apparent. Only my husband was obvious about his hate for me. It was the only emotion that he showed me genuinely. Hate. Scornful hate. Mummy still wouldn’t understand if I spoke to her about it, she’d tell me her overrated story of how she tamed my father and had me.

"My lovely wife, where are you going? Tell me again how sexy do you find me." She doesn't get the chance to answer him though. Her lips are already taken by him. Ravenous kisses. Soft moans. A muffled sound of laughter mixed with soft murmurs between lovers. The tired husband turns into a wolf that night. *** While watching him cooking in the kitchen, Ahn Hana utters suddenly, "I don't want to stay with a married man."

Helmut reminds her as he recalls the mention of the love of his life. "Sorry, I just can't get used to being a decorating wife. So, I tend to imagine my perfect life in the perfect husbands you recommended to me the day we got married" Aitana says looking down at the book and Helmut takes a deep breath at the sight of the cover. "That's not a romance book, little girl. That's pornography in letters" says Helmut and Aitana nods, "I really like that literary genre. I learn a little of the wonders of having an attractive man for a husband" says Aitana and the very thought of Aitana lusting after another man, even if he was a literary character, angered Helmut.

“You make me sick you fucking whore, you have nothing better to do than to spill your juices out on my bed” A pan of guilt hit me, I didn’t know he’d be back from his business trip today. Ashamed, I hurried out of the bed, my thighs sticking together from my dried up juices. I hear Steve mutter something under his breath as I helped myself to the bathroom. Tears streamed down my face as the warm water from the shower hit my skin in multiple drops. This wasn’t how we used to be, we used to be in love, inseparable, obsessed with each other. Now I had to resort to a rose toy to satisfy my sexual longing. I hated it. I hated that he was so busy, he didn’t kiss me in the mornings before he went t