Seven Wives Book Novels & Stories

He complained non stop. “Do they have eyes?" I asked him. “What?" He seemed confused by my question. “Your four wives, do they have eyes?" I asked again. “Five, and yes, they have eyes and are very very beautiful ladies.” "They must be idiots then. Why would they marry you? If I was a woman, I would run at the mention of your name let alone at the sight of you,” I said and I seemed to have struck a nerve. It seemed that he had all those wives, if at all that was true, to convince himself that he was handsome and could have anyone he wanted.

The reason for the divorce was that I was disloyal and made a terrible mistake that ruined the reputation of our family. My wife, Jean Shaw, the person that I had loved and doted on for 10 years, abandoned me when I needed her the most. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and decided to call her. My hand was trembling so much that I could barely hold my phone. On the other end of the line, Jean's voice sounded a little proud and relieved. "Sign the agreement, Felix. Your career is over. Stop struggling. Save yourself the embarrassment." "You're the one who wrote... the whistleblower report?"

Let her walk out feeling like she won something. Now that same sentence sat differently. Not like the final word of a woman who had lost. Like the quiet warning of a woman who already knew what was coming. And had chosen to tell me anyway. Something wasn't adding up. The woman I had been married to had been careful. Reserved. Always slightly apart from the world around her, like she was watching it from a distance she had chosen for herself. I had mistaken that distance for smallness. For a life that did not extend far beyond what I could see.

Maria said, still looking at the clock on the wall. "Well," Uju said, turning to a page on her book. "King Henry the eighth was married to Catherine of Aragon whom he divorced. He was also married to Anne Boleyn who he had beheaded. Then his most loved wife, Jane Seymour died a natural death. While he divorced another of his wife, Anne of Cleeves who bore the same name with Anne Boleyn. Then he had two extra wives, making it six. I don't know what happened to them." "Are you actually reading from the book or you are saying everything from your head because I don't know what author would write King Henry the eighth had six wives and he doesn't know what happened to them."

Thankfully, Zivon was able to dodge in time, and after raising a slight brow, he was prompted to say, “Drink a bit slower…” Watching as the worried man began patting her back, Xavia couldn’t help but squint. Was he seriously not aware that he was the reason why she had accidentally spat out all that fruit tea?! Shaking her head, she then took the book from Zivon’s hand to read its header… ‘Pleasing your pregnant wife down to her soul. During pregnancy, women tend to be less sexually active. Here are a few tricks to-’ Slamming the book shut, the embarrassed woman then grabbed another book from Zivon’s pile… and to her dismay, this one was titled, ‘Getting your pregnant wife high.’ W-what were

Princess Freda asked, stepping out of the bathtub, facing him. “I won't kill another wife, I promise,” Prince Ra said. “And your mother?” Princess Freda asked. “How do you know she is my mother?” Prince Ra asked, not remembering telling her that Zuberi was his mother. “I saw a whole lot more drinking from you than what I saw when our minds are linked,” Princess Freda laughed. “Be my wife. Let's stop this nonsense,” Prince Ra said, putting his hands to the side of her face. “Nonsense? I will tell you what is nonsense. The fact that you have six wives is nonsense, and I did not dream of sharing my husband one day with six other women. Well, five other women,” Princess Fey said flatly.

I'm not even sure you understand how gracious your wife is to arrange for you to have sex with other slaves for a week. "She is Marcia in this story. She's already given you another fucking slave, for whatever reason she chose or wanted to do so, but she's given you more than you've given her. You don't want her having sex with other guys anymore. It hurts you too fucking bad. And now you have two slaves to fuck, anytime you want, any way you want. And you go off for a week and she gives you more slaves to fuck; women, her emotional competitors, because you could fall in love with them.

“The woman at the front desk, you’re fucking her, right? If you really want to make this right, then why do you still have the audacity to bring her again and fuck her at the house I lived, Jack?” “That’s not true.” “I have pictures, and that woman was more than willing to share your fair share of escapades. My self-esteem’s at its lowest and I’ve been asking myself, on top of the many questions I have already, why did my husband cheat? Is it because I don’t look beautiful enough? Am I not sexy enough? Do I bore him already?” “No. That’s not true.” Jack attempted to go near Hyacinth. She raised her hand to stop him.