The Art Of Taming His Husband Novels & Stories

My entire body starts trembling, while my heart is hammering so loud it drowns out the buzz of the lights. He’s getting closer. And with every inch he takes, my lungs tighten. My past comes crashing into me like a tidal wave. The cold touch of unfamiliar hands. The burning sting of tears. “Don’t come any closer,” I croak, my voice cracking under pressure. “My husband will kill you.” That makes him pause. Just when I think I instill fear in him, he throws his head back in laughter like I just told the joke of the century. “Your husband?” he repeats, tilting his head. “Oh sweetheart, your husband’s probably sleeping just fine right now. Or maybe he’s still cozy with that little black head from

Something absurd. Something terrifying. The silver glow beyond the Gate— Matched the color of her husband's eyes. Emma froze. "No." The memory remained. Unchanging. The same silver. The same impossible shade. The same light now leaking from the opening Gate. Her heart began racing. The being noticed immediately. Its expression changed. "Emma." Her voice trembled. "No..." The memory expanded. Dozens of moments from her marriage. Conversations. Arguments. Smiles. Silences. Tiny details she had overlooked for years.

"Yes." Nicholas straightened up. At a single glance from him, four well-trained bodyguards in black appeared from seemingly nowhere and took control of the situation. Martha and Linda had never seen anything like it. Their legs gave out on the spot. "What are you doing? Let go of me! I'm Mr. Carter's wife!" "Ryan! Help us! Ryan!" Ryan panicked and shouted at me, "Victoria, have you lost your mind? You can't do this to me! I'm your husband, and you're carrying my child!"

"What?! Get away from me!" "What if I don't want to? Come with me!" He tightened his grip on my arms. "I said let me go!" "Dude, let go." I narrowed my eyes at the man who approached us. "Why, who are you, huh? If I'm yours, I won't try to interfere." "I'm her husband. What are you going to do now?" I felt the man gradually let go of my arms. "Tsk! Next time, take care of your wife." I covered my ears and then walked away from them.

My body betrayed me, succumbing to the forbidden allure of the moment. The weight of guilt gnawed at me, knowing Neal was just a wall away. I tried to suppress any sound, biting down on my lip to avoid making a noise that could give us away. Daley seemed to find my restraint amusing, his actions growing bolder as if daring me to lose control. I felt ashamed to be doing such a thing with my brother-in-law when my husband was asleep, separated by a thin wall. But I had to admit that it was exhilarating. The sensation numbed my mind as I gave in to my desires.

She folded her hands. "Your husband is damn not meant for you, you are a Hart, princess, it's not right to mingle with us Castillos." His tone is still hard, rubbing off her mind like dust. She stepped closer, the terror that he had never seen sparked in her eyes, "Don't you fucking dare use that tone on my husband, else, you will get it and trust me, it won't be good," She saw him shiver, but he brushed it off. "You possessive of your husband, princess?"

After signing the contract, Xylo quickly moved into my family’s old house. I quietly watched the footage on my phone from the hidden cameras I had secretly set up around the house. As expected, once Xylo locked the door, he stripped, hugged the tree, and started calling it his wife. I frowned as I watched him kiss the tree’s cracked bark. He did not mind the rough surface or care about the dirt. While doing disgusting things, he said, “Honey, baby, darling, Locust, I miss you. Let’s always be together, okay?”

Gently, he placed his fingers under my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Ava," he said in his deep voice, his eyes locking onto mine. "I’m your husband." "I don’t like anyone to see me naked," I whispered, my voice barely audible. He ran his hands over my shoulders softly, and the robe slid off, pooling at my feet. "Why, Ava?" he asked, his voice low and warm. "You, you are art." "What, am I art?" I asked skeptically. "Tell that to all my exes."

I not only wanted an up- close show, but I wanted Polly to know as soon as possible that if she ever wanted to make this a regular thing, she needn’t worry about the wife. “Come on, Trent, cum inside that tight little pussy of hers,” I begged. “Cum inside her just like you always wanted to do with me. Of course, she’s so young and fertile; I just hope you don’t impregnate her.” The very idea only left me hotter and more aroused than ever before. I suppose, looking back, it’s why I had to confront them. I wanted to goad him on – I wanted to be a part of the crucial finish, because it was ultimately the best part of the entire fetish for me. The idea of my husband, impregnating some gorgeous y