The Husband Novel Novels & Stories

, 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.

All I remembered was that the slap was loud, and I had a metallic taste in my mouth as if a fishbone had scratched the inner lining of my mouth. Now Oliver was the one being slapped. He covered his face, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief. Nonetheless, he quickly switched back to an innocent expression and asked anxiously, "Samantha, what did I do wrong to upset you?" Samantha shook her hand, then bent down and patted his face with the back of her fingers. With foundation on, his face looked even smoother and fairer than usual. "I've said this before. You can provoke Joshua however you like, but only he can be my husband," she said. "You've crossed the line this time."

"You’re funny, Mr. Miller. Of course my child is my husband’s and mine." "Your husband? So that child is mine?"

Hue wasted no more time, zoomed away like the bullet train and disappeared from her view. Meanwhile, Jennet closed her eyes and sighed hard. She felt hopeless. How could she deal with her husband who was easily aroused by her body? Hue was a dangerous husband and she couldn't leave her guard down, not one bit. Who knew when he would pounce on her while she was heavily pregnant? ... Not sure how long it had been since Hue went to take his cold shower, Jennet had already taken a shower herself. By the time she was dressed comfortably, her husband appeared at the door. He was in shorts and shirtless but he wore an apron that covered his sexy six-packs.

And marriage is only a contract between two individuals just to satisfy either the community custom or by obligation, by need for more fortune or to solve a more complex problem. His car parked in the field then he got out, still dressed as usual, elegantly beautiful and quite cute. Over three feet tall. Ilse walked to the door of his house. His gait was often the straightest it looked like he had learned to do it from a young age. Yes, wealth suits him well. He entered, left the large lower living room, went up the stairs to the bedrooms. The silence in the apartment was a little more suspicious to him. In front of his room he opened the door, went in to get rid of his jacket. For no reason

There is no sign that this is a man who has problems with his wife. Did he accept the situation? Or is it one of those relationships where the one is so used to being miserable that nothing makes him sad anymore and his relationship with his wife seems insignificant? “You’re funny, Daayiee. Anyway, I’ll see you all at dinner.” Until the man disappeared from their sight, Daayiee was still looking at him. "Be still, my heart." "Hey, hey, my sister owns him." He rolled his eyes. "I don’t care about your sister. Why does she leave her masculine husband in the Philippines? Doesn't she know that many people can steal someone like her husband?"

**** "Spuurrrr…!" Phoebe spat out the whiskey. "What!? Richard Hill is your husband. Oh my God! You are the crazy rich wife in New York." Phoebe's brain shook violently as she plummeted from cloud nine, her mind reeling at the revelation that the man they had been discussing was none other than Richard Hill.

He was the type of man I imagined as the male lead in the erotic books I read. I was sad that my husband was leaving, but I was also excited to stay with his dad. My earlier drama about feeling embarrassed? Yeah, that was just an act. Truthfully, I wanted to live under the same roof as him. At least I’d be safe—and near the man I fantasized about in my erotic dreams. He was one of the reasons I married my husband in the first place. Apollo prepared a delicious dinner for us. He was probably a better cook than I was. My husband talked about his work on the ship, and I let them have their father-son conversation.

I ran my hands over every muscle of his chest, and when I kissed his neck, he sighed, bringing his hands to the hem of the thin-strapped floral dress I was wearing, and soon, it too was on the floor. I had my eyes closed, and when I opened them, it wasn’t my husband I saw. I saw the look of desire in Jayden’s eyes, his slightly parted pink lips, the mischievous face he made when he whispered dirty things in my ear, and only then could I surrender. I bit my lips so hard that I felt blood on them, trying not to call out Jayden’s name while making love to my husband. When it was over, I felt empty, realizing that I would never again be satisfied in the arms of any other man but Jayden.

Hannah I thought my life was perfect, and my marriage was happy. Every woman must be happy when they have a good, caring, and handsome husband. And our marriage was blessed with an intelligent and handsome son. I felt proud and blessed to be his mother. Without realizing it, small cracks had appeared in our marriage long ago. One day, an event tickled my intuition as a wife who had been dulled because I thought everything was fine and perfect. Afterward, lie after lie opened my eyes wider until I felt that true love was just a brag and no longer existed in this world.