Mark Few Wife Novels & Stories

Just enough. Elena pushed the contract towards him. “My mother first.” “Tonight,” he said. “And I’m not your toy.” His gaze lifted to hers. Dark. Steady. Close enough now that she could see a faint scar cutting through one eyebrow. “No,” he said. “You’re my wife.” The word hit harder than it should have. Wife. Her pulse stumbled. Adrian held out his hand, then paused. “May I?” The question was quiet. Almost private.

Mark looked at me doubtfully and said "I think I'd have to watch her closely. She might have something else in mind." I laughed and dismissed the idea "You're just being ridiculous Mark. She doesn't seem like the girl in your wild dreams" I said, snapping my fingers at him. "You're sure?" He said, gazing at me. "Now you sound like a doting wife, I need to breathe, man" I said jokingly. He laughed, showing his perfectly groomed Dentals. "Speaking of wife, have you met your arranged bride?" He asked, leaning closer. I frowned and remembered the meeting with Vivian.

I guess she really belongs to me and this is all the proof I need. "That's the thing Mark, you seem too interested in the body than making a real connection and it makes me very uncomfortable and adding to the fact that you're a whore. I'll not put my health at risk just so that I can satisfy your carnal desires." My beautiful, precious wife fires back and I nod in agreement. My heart swells with pride. Mark chuckles. "Your husband was the biggest whore but you still let him fuck you as many times as he desired until he put those kids in you."

Mark laughed, pulling the phone up to his ear and began pacing again, finishing up his conversation with her. "What did she say?" I asked of my wife in a hushed voice. "You don't wanna know." She replied. "I do, actually." She looked right at me, "She was bragging about him, his endowment. She was trying to encourage us to go back to his room tonight. She was trying to encourage me to cuckold you." I nearly dropped my glass, time freezing, fantasy further creeping into the reality of this vacation - and right when I was about to reply Mark sat back down next to Vanessa.

Erin asked in her head, and Thorlon's forehead creased into a frown. "You seem lost. What is it that has gotten your attention?" Mark muttered, placing a kiss on her head when a few men sized her up. "This people keep staring at you like they are unaware of the fact that you are my wife to be." Erin felt Mark's muscles tensing up, and she averted her gaze from the fanged god, channelling her eyes to the glasses of champagne that went round the hall. "You should be happy your wife to be is beautiful," Erin responded, resting her head on his shoulder.

I point out. He shoots me a look. “You’re one to talk.” I let that pass. “Do I know her?” Another pause. “Maybe.” I narrow my eyes. “Mark.” He exhales. “She’s kind of connected. Loosely.” My stomach tightens. “Connected how?” He studies me carefully, like he’s choosing his words. “She’s friends with your dear wife.” That lands exactly where he knows it will. “Katy,” I say slowly.

Garvin was not liking the idea. Mark had a serious problem with women and even his marriage lasted for just six months but that was the fault of his ex-wife. Nevertheless, Garvin still had a major concern and that was about the woman in question, Gianna. “Stop it, Mark, she is married.” The other side of the phone went quiet as if the news had hit him too hard. Mark did not remember seeing a ring on Gianna’s finger but there were lots of married people who never wore their wedding rings but were still happy.

“ much better “ I breathed as I plopped down on the chair next to me. I closed my eyes for a brief moment as I contemplate what had happened at my wedding. The big daisy that I had inserted onto my hair was now lying lifeless at the far corner weeping with me. I reached for the coffee pot, and froze as a picture of Mark appeared on the screen, apparently leaving Harare nightclub, his arm around a sexy, sleek redhead in a skirt so short it barely covered her bottom. It had not even lasted a day and he was already on the news with the big headline for the next few weeks while his marriage had crumbled a few hours ago. It had died the moment it was born and buried with its spikey bones.

"Thank you. Mark's wife sidled up to him, a small woman with greased blonde hair, and smiled far more genuinely at me. "I've been hearing so much about you two. How is your evening treating you so far?" "It's a lot to take in," I said looking around the room. "But beautiful." "Isn't this just the fairest?" she just about glowed in her happy smile. "I was just telling Mark we should have one of these parties. Although I think he's tired of my big ideas."

Without a word, my mother, Jane, set her wine glass down with a sharp clink. My father, Robert, sneered and dabbed the corners of his mouth with quiet elegance. “Catherine, that’s an interesting way to put in. Since when does putting on a show mean dragging her husband’s dignity through the mud? Haven’t you seen the entertainment headlines recently? “We haven’t exactly come out of this unscathed, have we? “She even skipped this meal and had dinner with a young actor. Who is she trying to embarrass?” Catherine’s face instantly turned deathly pale.