Novel & Cerita Touch My Wife

but I will say don’t hit her too hard you wouldn’t want to damage her soft skin and her beautiful face… Man the things I would do to have her as my wife, you truly are a lucky man.” Beau glared at Trad with an ice cold stare as he (Beau) cracked his phone screen in his grip. Beau clenched his jaw, dropped his phone on the ground, and said, “You touched my wife?” Trad laughed and said, “What are you going to be the big tough Beau now? Beau you are nothing more than a coward afraid of change and afraid to lose the business.” Beau said, “You touched my wife,” and Trad smiled while saying, “Oh please, she's property that your daddy bought for you because you can’t get a woman, pretty boy. She’s

"All I want to do is cut ties with you and start my new life." "No!" She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me from behind, holding me so tightly it felt as if she wanted to press me into her very bones. "Javier, don't divorce me. I can't live without you. Give me one more chance. I'll make it up to you, even if it costs me my life." Her warm tears seeped through my thin shirt, burning against my back. Instead of struggling, I only said coldly, "Let go."

Ethan’s hands on her ass. “Wrong girl,” I spat out. My fist connected with his jaw, and he went flying across the dance floor. “Are you fucking nuts?” Lorena shouted, clearly furious at me. Yeah, fuck that this pervert just touched my wife. Or that she touched him. “Nobody touches you,” I snapped at my wife. The word mine seared into my chest, the word on repeat in my brain. “And if you don’t want him to lose a fucking limb, don’t touch him either.”

Thinking I might have accidentally tickled her, I whispered, "Sorry, honey. I didn't mean to tickle you. You're just too stunning in this dress." Mom shook her head and squirmed in my arms, before saying, "You didn't tickle me, my love. You're my husband, remember? And you never have to apologize for touching me." I began trailing my fingers along her side again, as I whispered back, "I'll remember that, honey."

She lifted her head, eyes searching his in the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains. “I love being your wife, Maurice. I love that you are my husband. But what do you want me to do if you won’t touch me? How do you expect me to feel when you keep pushing me away? We are married. It is only normal. Why do you make it such a big deal?”

I left her side to open the door for the annoying brats who called themselves my friends. They were five in total and immediately they saw me, they pushed me aside and rushed inside without saying a word. “It’s true. It’s you.” That was Emma, moving close to hold my wife . He was married alright but I didn’t want another man touching what was mine. “Hey man, watch your hands.” Then I moved closer to my wife wrapping my arms around her waist. “I’m the only who can touch her.” I squeezed her small waist. I was definitely going to take advantage of this.

Not the warmth, not the practised softness, not the woman who had held my face in her hands three weeks ago and called me beautiful and called her son lucky. This was a different face entirely. “You,” she said. I did not have time to answer. She crossed the last of the distance between us and slapped me across the face. It was not a gesture. It was not theatre. It was a full, hard slap with the whole arm behind it, and the sound of it cracked through the cool hall, and my head turned with it and my cheek bloomed hot and my eyes stung before I had decided anything at all. “You are not a wife,” Margaret said.

I said in a low voice, not wanting to scare her more. “I’m fine,” she said, though even she didn’t sound convinced to even herself. I moved further closer, close enough to hear her uneven breathing. Her citrus scent wrapped around me, making my heart race faster than I wanted to admit. Her lips parted slightly. She licked them nervously, and my eyes noticed her each and every movement. I leaned down and whispered against her left ear, “Tell me, Wife. Did you touch yourself?” “No…” She lied. “You can do it, actually,” I said, hoping she would understand my meaning. She could touch however she wanted when she thought of me.

He whispered against my lips. “Let me go, you psycho!” I cried opening my eyes to look at him. I was ashamed and disgusted to my core. How could I let a man like him touch me? My vision was blurred by my tears. “Why are you making this so difficult for yourself? I’m your husband-to-be, Rara, I have every right on you.”

"You changed me, Adriana. You are not a monster, you are my wife and you have a beautiful heart. You are only saying this because you don't remember everything about you and I don't care if you don't remember but I want you to remember something, I love you." Ema stared at the good man for a second and had another flash. She sniffled and obeyed her instincts, Their lips locked.