My Cold Husband Novels & Stories

I only realized my body was pressed to his chest to thighs a second later and I leaped away, blushing, "Anyone could have heard you, you need to be careful." "I agree," he nodded, "I'm not willing to ruin my reputation because of you and your love for a cliche holiday." If someone asked me to describe my husband in three words, I already knew what words I'd use; grouchy, asshole, and Grinch. I had never met anyone with as much animosity for Christmas as him. He turned and began to head for the plane. After a few steps he looked over his shoulder and frowned, "Is that the fastest setting on your leg?"

And just like that, the hand I’d unknowingly been clutching slips from mine. "You can’t even take care of yourself properly," he mutters, voice stern. "Always crying." His fingers graze my forehead, checking for fever—but it’s that warmth that makes my chest tighten, not the touch itself. I catch his hand again, holding it to my cheek and rubbing softly as I pout. "Well, it seems my husband has made it his mission to stress his wife… what can I do?" He pulls his hand free and rises to his feet like the moment never happened.

Jayden seemed to think of something and pulled me slightly away from his body, looking at me with his beautiful face full of concern. "Was it that guy from earlier? Your ex?" He asked, clenching his fists. I just nodded and started crying again, being comforted by him. "There’s just one thing I don’t understand. If Jayden is here, and he’s fine, who was that idiot talking about when he mentioned a loved one?" Maryna asked, intrigued. When I understood, my world stopped for a few moments, and the desperation took hold of me again. "Daon!" I called out my husband’s name like a prayer, hoping he was okay, but knowing Bobby, I was sure he wasn’t.

There was no love between the both of them, but as days passed by, Karen could feel Kevin's care and love for her. He had never said anything but she could feel it. For example, she was afraid of the cold. Her hands and feet were always cold during winter. He will secretly prepare gloves and various warm clothing for her. One day, she woke up in the middle of the night, she saw her feet were between his feet. He tried to pass his body heat to her. He showed his care for her in all the little things. What was she thinking if she didn't cherish such a thoughtful man who is her husband?

Maybe something deeper. When he disappeared into his office, she stood alone in the golden light, staring at his untouched bowl of soup. He’d eaten half of it. That was progress. Elena sat down, her pulse still unsteady. The contract was clear—no love, no emotions. But tonight, something invisible had changed between them. It wasn’t love. Not yet. But it was no longer hate either. Outside, thunder rolled across the city. Inside, the walls of their cold marriage began to melt—one small, impossible crack at a time.

“You want to go away with me. And what exactly would we be doing together?” He thinks far too long before sighing. “It’s just a weekend. We’ll be okay.” “Will I get a separate room?” “No. We’re husband and wife.” “It seems you haven’t noticed that I can’t stand being around you.” “Maybe you’ll have to rely on the vows we made to each other to pull you through.” Rage slams into me like a sledgehammer. “Are you being serious right now? Rely on what stupid vows?” “For better or worse. Remember?”

I was sweating heavily yet I felt cold on the inside like I had been locked in a refrigerator for days but outside, my body was as hot as a furnace. "My wife is an expert in medicine and herbs." She stepped forward and came closer to feel his temperature before shooting her husband a worried glance. "What's going on?" Their exchanged worried glances had me perk up as I stared at their faces, notwithstanding the pain that flowed inside of me, I was sure able to discern when something was wrong.

And I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Her excitement was making me equally excited. If my husband thought suggesting an open marriage was a good idea, he was about to learn just how wrong he was.

During a visit to my in-laws with my husband, Simon Sader, my mother-in-law, Tiffany Moran, stealthily tugged me into the kitchen, where she asked if I had been taking supplements regularly lately. I forced an awkward smile, allowing her to rake her gaze across me. Tiffany sighed loudly. "Then, why aren't you pregnant yet?" Whenever she pestered me about having a baby, I would simply tell her that I had difficulty getting pregnant. The truth, however, was that Simon was asexual. The most intimate thing we had ever done in our ten years of marriage was kiss.

Nikolai groaned deeply as the cold hit him. I leaned in and licked it off slowly, savoring the sweet-salty mix. Then I took him into my mouth, sucking hard, bobbing my head while my tongue swirled around the cold cream. I hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper, gagging slightly when he hit the back of my throat. “Fuck, just like that,” he growled, fingers tightening in my hair. “Suck your husband’s cock like the dirty little wife you are.” I moaned around him, the vibrations making him curse. I sucked him sloppily, ice cream and spit dripping down my chin, until he was rock hard and throbbing.