My Husband Hides His Beauty Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

She vowed not to fall in love with her husband. Even though Elissa's tone of voice was somewhat unpleasant to hear, Edgar continued to put on his best smile. Edgar knew this for sure. It would not be easy for him to melt Elissa's heart. His heart had yet to be conquered, let alone his wife's heart. Although it was rare, Edgar still remembered the beautiful memories with the woman he used to love. Elissa looked at her husband. She wanted to make sure that Edgar was starting to hate her. But what she saw was a beautiful smile. Unfortunately, when she looked at him, a golden ray of the morning sun shining on Edgar's face made him look much more handsome and charming.

I, on the other hand, propped my elbow on the table and did not take my eyes off of him. …But why does he seem to be hiding so much from me? Why do I feel contrary to his every promise and telling me that I am the only woman he will love completely? What's the secret you're keeping from me, Lucas?

The thought caused a mild ache to burn in the center of my chest. I ignored the sting and focused back on my reflection. I was wearing a thin strap black gown with a sweetheart neckline. The beginning of my cleavage was peeking out of the neckline. After getting ready, I decided to head out. And guess what instead of Ron I found Zavion in the living room. He was sitting alone on the couch, hunching over his phone as he scrolled through it. Dressed in blue suit, he looked drop-dead goregous. His sleek dark hair was pulled back into a small pony, his strong square jaw was covered in bristly thick beard. I had felt that beard scruff against my soft cheek when we kissed. He must have heard my fo

, Adrian responded, his voice sounding helpless and anxious. My hands hurriedly clamped my mouth holding back the scream from escaping by chance. So I was right all this time. My own husband would go such lengths to humiliate his contract wife. Loosing the zeal to wash up as I couldn't risk being found out, I redirected my steps towards Mr. Hawthorne's study room with a plan to hide in there until he returned. My hands casually stroked the thousands of books on his shelf I'd always admired as I was also a lover of books. I reached to pull out another book from the shelf which turned out to be a frame instead.

Like something precious rotting in the dark. She stood up slowly and walked toward the balcony, receipts in hand, necklace still folded inside her palm. The city lights blurred before her. She didn’t cry. Not yet. But her heart was splintering, one quiet crack at a time. "My husband indeed has another woman..."

He brought both of her hands above her head and held both of her wrists together in a hold before lifting his head. He was tempted, taken aback and aroused by the breathtaking beauty of her unclothed sight. His other hand quickly moved towards the dress covering the other half of her body. Mili moved her head to the side as her husband pulled down the remainder of her clothes feebly shielding her purity from him.

Time flew by quickly. When we both came out of the bathroom, the sky was darker, blocking out the sunlight. Raindrops wet the large windows surrounding us. Hugo hugged me from behind again, but when he was about to kiss my neck, I stopped him. “No. I don’t want my husband to get suspicious.” “Ah, I’m curious about one thing,” he said. I turned around and looked at him with a curious expression. “About what?” His lips formed a sly smile. “I’m curious about Mrs. Lisa Walker’s sex life. Does the honorable and wealthy Mr. Chris Walker not satisfy his beautiful wife’s sexual desires? And how many men have already enjoyed your beautiful body?”

Shoes kicked away, pants sliding down. And all the while, his eyes stayed on me like he’d lose me if he looked away. The lump in my throat thickened as I drank in the sight before me. Jack Winehouse. My husband. Bare. Exposed. All mine. Sun-kissed skin, sculpted muscles, broad shoulders, and a chest that rose and fell with quiet hunger. Every line of his body screamed perfection... and temptation. And God, the way his arousal stood proud made my breath hitch. His naked glory screamed perfection.

I instinctively held my bag tighter. “Are you hiding something?” he asked. I blinked.“What are you talking about?” His eyes stayed on me, steady, unreadable.“That’s why you don’t want to stay here.” My breath slowed.“That makes no sense,” I said quickly. “There is nothing to hide. I just don’t have the time for this kind of arrangement.” But even as I spoke, I could feel his stare changing, like he was no longer listening to my words, like he was listening to something else, something I hadn’t said.