Trophy Wife

by Alessandra Torre

  * * *

  This morning I threw away the notepad, its white surface damning my mind into a catatonic state, unable to create a single word of clarity. Besides, my needs are simple, no need for a physical list.

  * * *

  Move in. I want to live in the main house, to feel like a member of the marriage rather than a sequestered leper.

  * * *

  Sleep in his bed. I want his arms around me at night, his breath on the back of my neck, the hard line of his muscles within easy reach.

  * * *

  Sex. I will not fuck in front of others. Period.

  * * *

  A job. I’d like to fill my days with something other than waiting, the long drone of expectation too hard on my psyche.

  * * *

  That is it. Four demands. I’ll ask him on the plane, once we are settled in and away from everyone. I want to have his answer, to have a plan in place, before I step off the plane.

  CHAPTER 50

  I watch his profile, wishing I was across from him instead of next to him, so I could study his face without being so blatantly obvious.

  * * *

  “It’s been a good trip.” He stretches his legs out, one reaching into the aisle, and leans back, turning to look at me.

  * * *

  I nod, a spot of silence beginning, the perfect opening for me to speak. “I’ve been thinking … about our marriage. And whether or not I will stay.”

  * * *

  “And?”

  * * *

  “You asked me to make a list of things I would need. There are only a few.”

  * * *

  He nods, staying silent.

  * * *

  “I want to live in the main house and sleep in your bed. Out in the guesthouse, by myself, I feel more like an employee of yours, someone you fuck and then disregard. It’s not a situation I want to continue.”

  * * *

  “And the sleeping? Couldn’t you move inside without spending every night with me?”

  * * *

  I hesitate. Part of my demand was a negotiation tactic. Ask for more than I need, in hopes that he will settle where I want. I didn’t have to have the nights. But I wanted them, had treasured every second of the last two nights. Plus, if I planned to fight for this man, I would need those evenings as part of the seduction of his heart. “Maybe not every night, but at least two a week.”

  * * *

  “Before I commit to that, what else is there?”

  * * *

  A small grin pulls at my mouth. “Sex. You’ll have to keep your controlling habits behind closed doors.”

  * * *

  He laughs, pulling my hand to his mouth and nipping it slightly. “But I love taking your body before an audience. Love to see them watch you fuck.” His words turn dangerous as he speaks, the light behind his voice turning to sizzling heat, his mouth on my hand a brand that marks me as his.

  * * *

  “Why?” I stammer. My eyes close slightly as he flicks a delicious rhythm on the meat of my palm with his tongue.

  * * *

  “It’s how you look when you fuck, when you are unrestrained sexually.” He drops my hand, the break in connection sudden, my mind racing to recover without showing anything on my face. He turns in his seat, fully facing me, his eyes latched on to mine. “That first night, when we came into the club … I was only supposed to talk to you then—supposed to pitch you on a life of glamour and whisk you away. But it was how you looked under the lights. How you danced for me, the sexuality breathed out of you like it was part of your soul. I wasn’t supposed to use you that night, to have you …” He pauses, his voice roughening. “… suck my cock, but I couldn’t help it.”

  * * *

  His erotic words send a spike of arousal through me; the dark and confident look in his eyes makes me want to unzip his pants right here.

  * * *

  “I didn’t know what to do after that, so I left, thought I’d come back the second night and have more control.” His mouth curves. “Turns out my self-control, around you, is terrible.”

  * * *

  “I want you to be the only one who watches … at least for a while. Until I find my own footing in our relationship.” I lick my lips, focusing on my words. “It’s important to me.”

  * * *

  He reaches out, cupping my face in his hand and rubbing a thumb over my moist lips. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable. And I can keep our sex behind closed doors; you don’t have to ever do anything more than that. I just wanted to explain why I had enjoyed fucking you like that. Part of it was the control, my desire to keep you emotionally distant. But the other half of it, my personal arousal …” His voice drops to a growl, the desire in it tangible, and he pushes gently on my mouth, his eyes closing as I open my mouth and gently bite on the meaty pad of his thumb. “I want to make you happy, Candy. I’m sorry I made you do those things.”

  * * *

  I say nothing, the emotion in his eyes enough for me. He's sorry, and an apology was more than I ever expected. I gently release his thumb from my mouth, smiling at him.

  * * *

  “Was that it? Just those three things?”

  * * *

  I nod, figuring that I can bring up the job at a later day, the bulk of my needs covered in those three requests. He looks down, running a hand over his mouth and then studies my eyes, his dark blue depths searching me.

  * * *

  “If you stay … if you continue to act as my wife … I’ll make those concessions. But we need to have more public exposure, and some high profile interviews and photo shoots at the house. I need to draw Cecile out, need to push our relationship into her face.”

  * * *

  A smile breaks out, my excitement too great to contain, the mention of Cecile a small price to pay for such forward progress. His own mouth twitches in response, and he reaches out, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me to him, planting a soft kiss on my head.

  * * *

  “It’ll be tough,” I mumble into his chest. “But I’ll pretend to like you. At least when the cameras are rolling.”

  * * *

  He pulls back, using his other hand to tilt up my chin, his blue eyes smiling down at me. “What a good wife you are. Thank you, Mrs. Dumont.”

  * * *

  I don’t respond, my witty comeback lost as his mouth closes on mine, a soft kiss that deepens, my body relaxing and sinking into his embrace, my heart nose-diving after it.

  * * *

  His lips … they are incredible.

  CHAPTER 51

  I feel like I have started a new journey in my life. Yes, it is strange and twisted—the two of us living together as husband and wife. He does it in a desperate attempt to win back the woman he loves. For me, it’s an equally desperate attempt to corral the man who is stealing my heart. Even if he doesn’t fall in love, being with him, feeling his hands on my body, his eyes on my soul, his laugh on my lips … that will be enough. I am not that different from the woman who stood on stage two short months ago. I wanted an escape, and I got one: complete with money, a renewed relationship with my father, and a devastatingly gorgeous man—a man who has turned out to be charming, funny, and a sexual beast in the bedroom. Even if he can never fully be mine, this life is more than I ever expected.

  * * *

  I suddenly understand why a woman would stay with a cheating man. It seems better to be happy with someone you love and overlook the fact there is someone else. Better than your thoughts and heart aching for them while you live a life alone. And I don’t have the additional influence of a family—round, adorable children who climb into Nathan’s lap and call him Daddy. It’s just me, with a man that I can’t stay away from.

  * * *

  I look out the window as the plane dips below the trees and our city comes into focus. North, along the rolling hills, I see our neighborhood, landscaped squares with mansions squatting possessively on blue-green l
awns, gates and pavers directing the rich as they go about their worry-free lives. Home.

  * * *

  I turn to Nathan. “Drew has already moved out?”

  * * *

  He nods. “Yes, Mark’s already confirmed that.” He leans forward, squeezing my hand. “It works out well, he was staying in the second master suite, which will be more appropriate for you than one of the guest rooms. The housekeeper has already moved your closet over there, I thought you’d prefer to move your personal things.”

  * * *

  I nod, settling back in the seat. I’ll be sleeping in Drew’s bed—his scent, his touch, everywhere around me. It's something I’m not sure fresh sheets and cleaning products will remove.

  * * *

  The plane shifts beneath us and I watch the airport come into view.

  * * *

  Mark is outside, waiting, when Nathan pulls into the drive. I step out of the car and stretch, surprised when Nathan comes around the car, his arm encircling and pulling me tight. “Money has been transferred, and I convinced the Missus to stay, to put up with me for a little while longer. Things are coming together.”

  * * *

  He leans down, kissing me on the top of my head, his hand sliding down to cup my ass. Only home for seconds, but I can already feel the need coming off him, his fingers gripping me possessively. I blush, glance up at Mark, who smiles, and pulls a trunk from the car.

  * * *

  I’m brought back to attention by Nathan’s hands, sliding around to the side of my leg, his fingers teasing the edge of my shorts, and I glance up at him. “Did you need something from me?” I ask, painting my face into a mask of innocence.

  * * *

  A smile tugs at his mouth and he laughs, bending and sweeping me into his arms. “I’m going to take my beautiful wife to bed,” he says to Mark, pulling me to his mouth for a kiss. I shriek as he moves, my body bouncing in his arms, as we go up the steps, his eyes on me hungrily, his mouth curved into a smile.

  * * *

  Could it be? Will vacation Nathan be sticking around? My heart soars at the possibility.

  * * *

  He carries me to his bed, a space we rarely use, our sexual sessions kept to unromantic, highly visible places. Tossing me onto the duvet, he yanks at the collar of his shirt, pulling it over his head with barely contained excitement. “You mentioned me needing something?” he growls, the shirt tossed aside, his strong chest exposed, abs firm, his hands frantic at his belt. “Right now, I need to worship you with my cock.”

  * * *

  I move quickly, matching pace with his movements, wanting, needing, to have him bare inside me right now, dominating me, the joining of our bodies in raw, unprotected union. He is fully naked by the time I have my shirt off, his strong, lean body crawling onto the bed, fully secure in its nakedness, his hands unbuttoning my shorts and tugging them and my panties off and down my legs.

  * * *

  A pause. His eyes survey my body, and I drink in the sight of him naked, kneeling in between my legs, his eyes black with need, his cock hard with arousal. It bobs straight out, my mouth watering with the urge to suck its hard length.

  * * *

  “You are so beautiful,” he groans. “I want to do so many things to your body.” He reaches down, his hand wrapping around his length, moving up and down his shaft. I reach my own fingers down, needing something inside of me right now, my need too great to go unsatisfied.

  * * *

  He chuckles, stopping my hand, moving it aside as his fingers brush against my heat, dipping inside one digit, then two, his eyes closing briefly. “Jesus, Candace. You are so … perfect. So hot and tight. Always ready for me.”

  * * *

  I arch on the bed, grinding against his fingers, needing them deeper, thicker, my eyes locked on his hard length, the erotic view of his hand on his cock, his eyes on me, his mouth open in unrestrained lust.

  * * *

  “I should have fucked you that first night,” he groans, moving his cock down, his fingers out, the head of him hovering at my opening, his hands gripping my legs as he pushes inside in one smooth motion. He withdraws slowly, watching our union as inch by inch he pulls out, my body weeping at his exit. “If I had known then how perfect you are, I never would have passed on that opportunity. You are too amazing to not fuck at every … available … opportunity.” He pulls the final inches out, my back arching, my eyes begging, his fingers resuming their penetrations.

  * * *

  “You assume I would have been willing,” I gasp out, a smile across my face.

  * * *

  He tilts his head, possession in his eyes. “Do you think you could resist?” He positions himself back at my entrance, rubbing his head up and down my wet slit, easing in slightly, then pulling out, taking his stiff head to my swollen clit, brushing it gently.

  * * *

  “Of course,” I breathe.

  * * *

  “Bullshit. By the time I finished with you, you would have been begging for my cock.” His smug tone backs up his words, his cock pulling away from me as he strokes it again.

  * * *

  “Is that so?” Everything in me is centered between my legs. I have forgotten how to breathe, how to move, to think, to do anything but have this man fuck me back into reality.

  * * *

  “You tell me.” He grabs my legs and lifts them so that they point to the sky, spread and open for him, his unrestrained cock finding its way straight to the source of my need. “Do you need this?”

  * * *

  I stay silent, my stubbornness combining with the curiosity of wondering what he will do next.

  * * *

  He moves his hips, the head of him entering, then withdrawing, my need rising and falling and rising as he fucks me with short, half-strokes, his mouth brushing against my calf, his tongue tickling out a pattern against my skin.

  * * *

  I groan, trying to slide closer, to get more of him inside me, the pleasure just short of enough, my orgasm reaching, straining, but not making the connection.

  * * *

  “Do. You. Need. This?” He grunts out the words, every other dip of his cock deep, then shallow, then deeper.

  * * *

  “Yes!” The word explodes from me, a plea for help in a deep hole of pleasure. “So fucking badly, Nathan. Please.”

  * * *

  He shakes his head, keeping his thrusts short, keeping me hovering on the brink of insanity. “Tell me that you are mine. To use as I wish.”

  * * *

  I whimper, an ache inside me that is almost painful in its intensity. “I am yours. You are everything.”

  * * *

  He moans at the words, dropping my legs and moving above me, his movements now unrestrained—full, deep thrusts that arc me higher, higher, higher. His face close to mine, features tight, breath ragged, fast movements that put his cock exactly where, exactly when, and exactly how I need it.

  * * *

  My orgasm hits—a blinding, waving curve of pleasure, peaking and falling, every thrust bringing me a fresh hit of sensation, breathing life and keeping its momentum, the moment impossibly long, then I am nothing but languid pleasure.

  * * *

  He doesn’t stop, the drilling force of him bringing me back to the present, my legs wrapping around and gripping the hard muscle of his ass, my hands clutching and nails digging into his back, our bodies meeting in perfect orchestration until his eyes clench. He grunts, giving me four deep, hard thrusts, the proof of his finish shooting inside of me, physical heat pooling as he shudders and then is still.

  * * *

  “Fuck …” he whispers, hovering above me, his eyes on mine, wonder in them. “You have no idea how incredible that was.” He rolls off me and onto his back, his cock pulling out, my body wanting it the moment it is gone. I roll over, curling up against his side, my hands unstoppable in their quest to touch, my fingers trailing up and over the lines of his abs,
settling and stopping against his chest, his heart pounding beneath my palms.

  * * *

  “I didn’t do much,” I say, closing my eyes. “I just laid there.”