Marriage Of An Overprotective Young Husband Novels & Stories

I can’t do this. Coldness wrapped around Alex ’s chest, squeezing until he couldn’t draw a breath. “What are you saying?” he demanded. She looked at him tiredly. “Why are you marrying me? Is it just because of the baby?” He frowned, not liking the corner she was backing him into. “You’re tired and overwrought. We should go back in and continue this conversation where it’s warm” She cut him off with a furious hand. “I am not tired. I am not overwrought, and I want you to stop with the overprotective hovering. I don’t even buy that you are that concerned, only that it’s a convenient barrier you can hide behind

Even screwing the club whores. “How? Who?” I tried to block out images of my husband’s demise. Had he suffered as I’d suffered throughout this marriage? I was eighteen years old when my father had given me the news. I was to marry Rocco Moretti, the son of Father’s trusted consigliere, Tommaso Moretti. My feelings or emotions were never considered as Father and Tommaso plotted to continue their dynasty. To suggest that love was a factor in our ten-year marriage would be the furthest from the truth.

The uneasy feeling that someone was always watching. "I never asked for your protection. I never wanted you watching me or interfering in my life," I shot back “Someone has to be present for our marriage,” he said, grinning proudly like he had just made a brilliant announcement. “I need Anna to be fine as quickly as possible.” Marriage? Had he lost his mind or gone nuts? “Have you run mad or what?” I muttered under my breath. “I’d rather become a nun and live in a cave than marry you.”

“But he’s sloppy. Desperate. And desperate men make mistakes.” “What did you do to him?” “Nothing. Yet.” His other hand touched her jaw. “But if he contacts you again, I will. And you’ll watch.” “You’re insane.” “I’m protective.” His thumb traced her bottom lip. “There’s a difference.” She shoved his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” “I’m your husband. I’ll touch you whenever I want.” “This isn’t a real marriage.” “It’s legal. Binding. Real enough.” He stepped back. “Now get some sleep. We have a reception tomorrow.”

“Marrying you was just a bet I made with my buddies back in college. They said I couldn't get the 'perfect, untouchable' Harvey to fall for me. So, I did it. And once we got married, the game was over. You were very boring.” “A… A Bet?” I felt as if the world was crumbling around me. My entire marriage... our three years together... It was all just a bet? “You should have just agreed when I suggested the open marriage,” Derek sneered, crossing his arms. “It would have been better for both of us. If you had just stayed quiet and let me do what I wanted, you wouldn't be in this position right now.” “You monster!” I shrieked. “I loved you all these years and I was just a bet to you?!” I lunged

Ahmed asked. “We’re fine,” Amelia replied briefly, busy unwrapping the cutlery for her father. “And your marriage? Is everything going well? Does your husband treat you right?” Amelia paused, looking up and smiling at her father. “Everything is fine. Ethan treats me very well.” “Are you sure?” Ahmed asked, his gaze steady as he tried to read her expression. Ahmed had initially disapproved of Amelia’s decision to marry a man who already had a wife. He had been concerned about the challenges his daughter might face. However, after many reassurances, Ahmed had reluctantly given his blessing.

After all, he had helped her enough. "Well, since it's all right, let's go back first!" "Okay!" "Culver, wait for me!" He pulled open the door of the front passenger seat and got into the car. Culver looked at the busy seat belt and said with a smile, "Silly girl, aren't you afraid that those people in the company will misunderstand our relationship? Don't blame me for not telling you first. I am being forced to get married by my family. If they find out, they will misunderstand me and make trouble for you. Don't blame me!"

I held the microphone, my voice echoing throughout the place. The people around us murmured among themselves, and Celia's face showed a fleeting moment of embarrassment. "Zane, stop it. It’s our wedding today." "You’re realizing that now? I don't want to marry you anymore. You're free. Go marry whoever you want." After saying that, I looked at Shane. "Shane, congratulations, you’ve won. I don't want this woman anymore. I wish you a happy marriage and many children." Of course, I did it on purpose.

His eyes followed me, brow furrowed. When I reached him, I didn’t stop right away. Instead, I placed my hands on his shoulders. He flinched, just slightly. And that almost made me laugh. I leaned in just enough for my voice to drop, softer now. “My dear husband…” I tilted my head, my gaze locking into his. “Let’s have an open marriage.” Silence. Yes, I would serve him that hot dish first.