The waitress left the murder scene with wide-eyed dread. I didn't dare glance around to see who had seen my tremendous climax.

After a minute, Luke King appeared on the opposite side o, appearing calm and unflappable. Still panting, I met his stare and pushed down my skirt. My thighs stroked my pussy, causing aftershocks.

We gazed for a long time. He saved the contract from the spreading red wine.

He handed me the pen without a word.

He viewed me with desire-filled eyes.

I finally paused. I signed away my life.

I sobbed, "I'm an idiot."

Back at home

My best friend Odelia raised an eyebrow and smoked a cigarette.

"You don't care that my life is dying."

"You're not dying. You're married for money."

"Nope. For my mum, I married him." He discovered my Orgasm Button. Odelia only knew the first half. It's embarrassing.

Odelia shrugged, tapping ash into my tray.

"it's okay to marry for money. Yes"

"Yes, I would. I'm poor! And isn't he getting you anywhere in your career?" She pointed to my apartment's corner, where my newest sculpture sat unfinished until I could purchase more clay. I'd had numerous little gallery exhibits and done well, but the larger things took more money and effort than I could do after working 10-hour bar shifts.

Odelia may be right: marrying King might help my career.

He's bringing me to a speciality store in an hour to choose my dress and underwear.

Odelia said, "He's choosing your underpants."

"What sort of marriage?"

I glared. "The kind of marriage you'd expect from a wife-buyer."

She shrugged. She responded, "You can't cook." He could've found a nicer wife in England. She'd be sexier."

"Fuck you," I said. "You're not my best friend anymore."

I was worried since King hadn't mentioned friends or relatives.

Odelia snuffed her cigarette and stood. "When you're wealthy and on the headlines, don't forget the small folks, okay?"

I said "yes."

"Wanna be my hanger-on? I'll accept applications until the honeymoon."

She responded, "Sure!"

"Promise, or I'll tell everyone we know"

Not this time. I was still terrified. I sat up, took several deep breaths, and considered contacting my mom. I hadn't told her about my upcoming wedding .

I could sense her illness in her tired voice whenever we chatted. Overnight, the gap between us widened. Since my father arrived, I couldn't speak to her as I used to, even though we'd always chatted since I was a child. My father's betrayals brought us together, and she was my closest confidante.

I didn't want her to know I was getting married for money until the last minute. Luke King was affluent like my dad. He was a wealthy jerk. I couldn't stand the notion of her believing I was making the same mistake she had-she ordered me to quit our poisonous family and not look back-and I couldn't tell her I was paying for her chemo treatments, because she didn't want me to know.

I massaged my face, groaned, and checked my phone. I had 20 minutes to get to the vehicle and hadn't even showered. I should have gotten up but couldn't. I sat on my futon for ten minutes before I eventually got up, and then I had to hurry through a shower and makeup before putting on clothes when his driver called me and told me they're waiting downstairs.

He grinned and let me in.

Luke King entered.

I hadn't seen him since he licked me at our prenuptial agreement meeting. Persuading me to sign it, he dived beneath the table and penetrated me with his mouth and fingers, causing me to scream in front of everyone, including our server.

Exactly. I loved and loathed it. I'm such a weirdo!

Now Luke King was reading on a tablet in the backseat and ignoring me. My chest whirled with fear and exhilaration until I couldn't tell them apart. I climbed in, chin up. Cole slammed the door behind me, and I hid in the corner, half-hoping King would join me.

Nope.

He seldom spoke to me. When I peeked at his iPad, I saw an unknown report.

Ugh. Just like my father, who always carried his briefcase and Financial Journal-when he was home.

He's a jerk. I was set to marry his twin.

My ardor cooled and I groaned, settling for staring out the window, though I didn't actually see the buildings pass by until the vehicle slowed and I realized we were in Marseille.

Luke King closed his iPad and exited the vehicle beside me. I was astonished when he opened my door. I assumed his servants did it.

Formally, he greeted"Pardon my concern."

When I took his hand, my heart leapt. When his flesh contacted mine, a frisson of desire sent shivers down my spine and warmed my pussy. I couldn't prevent the flush on my cheeks as I suddenly caught my breath.

"Okay," I said. I kicked myself as he helped me out of the car and onto the street. "You're busy,"

He arched an eyebrow. I'd never seen such clarity in someone's eyes.

Or maybe my dumb clit decided. I started babbling. "So was my dad. Even at breakfast, he was always working. In his presence. He always had the paper out and got mad if I interrupted him..."

I didn't want to think about my father while semi-aroused. See? Even when he wasn't there, he ruined things.

"Okay. Whatever. " I mumbled, "I won't bother you."

He didn't even smile.

OMG.  I stared back so I wouldn't be the first to speak. The street emptied around us.

I shattered. "It's good you're marrying me," I said, "because I'll never find anyone else willing to listen to my blather."

At that, he smiled and took my hand in his Victorian-style elbow crook.

"Miss Green," he said, guiding me to the boutique, "you're my wife."

I followed him into the shop, surprised and pleased. I told him, "I have some inane stuff to say." "Are you sure you don't want to retract that?"

He laughed and put his arm around my shoulders as if we were a couple. I hated how his laugh rained on me. Also liked it. "I'll follow your will," he promised.

That was a challenge, but I didn't want to accept it. Instead, I said "thanks." I hesitantly wrapped my arm around his waist and felt his rock-hard body. I'd never touched him so intimately before. He was already nose-deep in my pussy, but I hadn't done anything to him.

The fire he stoked in the Italian restaurant flared up again, and I had to swallow my dry tongue and reconsider.

I wanted to sucking his scrotum. I wanted to suck it,.

The lean, well-built body next to me moved with barely-controlled energy, like a dancer or martial artist.

I moistened my lips .

"Elegance. "He said, "Nothing showy."

He was talking about my wedding dress. I sigh. I've always wanted a big tulle skirt.

Luke King released go of my shoulders and walked away.

Luke King stared at me for a bit, then motioned to the sales assistant. "Both. Bring a wedding dress and telenova."

The assistant murmured, "I don't believe we have telenova gowns."

"Whatever is nearest," King instructed.

"Thanks," I murmured, embarrassed.

I couldn't interpret his statement since the sales assistant returned with two clothes. I accepted them, thanked him, and headed for the dressing rooms.

Luke King walked into my dressing room,.

"Pardon?" As he entered, I remarked. There was space for two ladies. Luke King took up more room than his physique allowed.

I gripped my Telenova dress and stared.

He shrugged. "I thought you may need some help," he replied, as if his gaze weren't wandering over my body and the armload of tulle I held.

His aftershave and manly aroma captivated my nose. Last time we were in this position, he had his hands on my breasts just five minutes of our first encounter. I fought down the abrupt remembrance.

I knew from his green eyes that he was also remembering. Lips licked slowly.

I threw the dress at him. I said, "Here,"

Every inch of flesh he showed fed the fire. His breath rasped and his body tensed like a bow.

My blouse and pants fell off as I gasped for oxygen. Never felt so vulnerable. In my bra and pants, I felt like he was examining my bones.

He stood motionless as my pulse quickened and my lips parted.

He said, "Raise your arms."

I obeyed by licking my lips. He slipped my wedding gown over my head and guided my arms into the off-the-shoulder sleeves. His fingers were little rough, and they ruffled my nerves as they touched my arms.

He took the tight fabric from my face.

He said, "Turn."

Then I heard the zipper hiss as he carefully pushed up the dress.

As the dress's bodice tightened, I realized it was too tiny. "Er, I need a bigger size?"

"No," he answered thickly. "No, you don't,"

The tight bodice left me unable to breathe. His warm hands twisted me around.

He said, "Open your eyes."

"You're fantastic."

He stepped out of my path as I pointed to the door. I climbed the platform. First, I looked in the mirror.

Well... It wasn't a Telenova gown, but I instantly understood why the assistant laughed.

White, fluffy fabric swaddled me. My chest was lost in the frenzy of flowers and sparkle. My tiny shoulders couldn't support the neckline, and my boyish figure was lost in the enormous skirts. I looked like a youngster in her mom's wedding dress. Not womanly enough.

Not a surprise. I looked like a small girl, and never more so than when my life was slipping away.

I looked terrible in my fantasy dress.

I swallowed my emotions and ran back to the changing room with the skirt.

Luke scowled. "What's wrong?" he inquired. My disappointment must have been visible.

I shrugged bravely. I agreed. "I should go classy."

, I shut the door and massaged my eyes while he stood there.

He said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I" I sputtered.

"I thought this outfit was wonderful. Nope. I want to appear like a princess in one, but..." I sighed. "Whatever. It's meaningless."

He paused. He answered, "I understand." "Could it be changed?""

"It's irrelevant." I twisted to reach the zipper.

He responded, "You've desired that outfit since you were a child."

I chuckled. "I'm not a young girl anymore, even though I appear like one."

He stretched his hands and thought. "The distance between dream and reality deepens with time,"

I responded, "Whatever." Tears blinding my eyes, I turned aside and unbuttoned the garment. I didn't want his fancy clothing.

His warm hands touched my shoulder. Some pitiful urge prevented me from ignoring him. Everything sucked. I wanted it fixed. Why wasn't I shopping with mom and Odelia? Why wasn't I marrying my boyfriend? How come?

My shoulder was squeezed. I sensed him withdrawing.

I took his hand.

I didn't know what to do with it when I caught it, so I remained there.

Luke hesitantly followed me. Then his fingers tightened, reigniting our electric charge.

"You look wonderful in white," he muttered, then pulled his hand away and began unraveling the dress, unhooking the fastenings, and tortuously pulling down the zipper. My back was slowly exposed, and he kissed every inch.

I was aroused. My legs went wobbly and I placed my hands on the wall to steady myself. His gentle, warm lips tugged feelings from my skin I didn't know existed, and I bit my lip.

I said, "Oh."

He withdrew.

"Joyce? "

I urged him, "Don't stop."

"What?"

I'd heard an edge in his voice when he'd trapped me in his office and made me come.

I said, "Keep kissing me."

"You can't make demands," he replied. Then he grabbed my neck and dragged me away from the wall.

This was a hazardous game, but I didn't care. I loved his lessons. His hard palm held me up as I sank against him.

He said, "Spread your legs." His breath drove goosebumps up my neck and scalp, and I obeyed without thinking. I widened my posture by walking outwards.

His palm grasped my hair, not cruelly but firmly. He controlled me.

"Why?" I asked, gasping.

He responded, "He pushed, flipping me and bending my waist.

I gasped and stretched out my hands to avoid falling with the unexpected shift. The rough carpet burnt my palms and I snarled, but I had no time to focus on that since he was grabbing layers of skirts and tugging them up over my back, exposing my ass.

His scalding fingers snuck up behind the elastic in my slacks. My swollen lips were soothed as he removed the crotch from my mouth. I squeaked as he let it strike my cunt.

"No pantyhose. Ever."

I answered, "No." "Never."

He responded, "Good." His hand withdrew, My hamstrings felt fantastic and terrible, and knowing I was at his mercy made my knees weak.

I heard a click, and he pulled my pant crotch away again. The cloth broke with pressure and tugging.

My pants were cut.

He purred, "Much better." I gasped as a fingertip separated my pussy lips. My breasts hung heavy and my legs ached, but I just focused on him.

He eased me in. I felt the flesh twitch and contract at his touch, eager and alive, but he simply caressed me tenderly and flicked my clit, and my hunger grew. My cunt bled, and I felt empty.

I tried to grasp his finger while whimpering, but he wouldn't let me.

He responded, "Tell me, Joyce." In the dressing room's quiet, he shouted.

"Please," I moaned breathlessly. "Inside me"

He rubbed my pussy again, appreciating how I quivered for him.

He whispered, "No." "No"

"You humiliated me at a restaurant. My throat hurt. What differentiated this place?" I tried to drive him inside by pushing my hips back, but he teased me.

"Why won't you f**k me?" Whispered. My voice was too plaintive.

"You misread." He grunted. "I'll fuck you, but not here," he whispered, putting his finger in my slippery canal.

One by one, my pussy invaded his each finger, covering it in my fluids. He retreated and lathered my tight, puckered entrance each time.

He said, "Are you a virgin?Has anybody other taken this cute ass?

My ass and pussy trembled as his fingers left.

I gasped at the harsh, stinging feeling on my face and lips.

Before I could answer, he paddled me again and I wailed.

"Reply."

Another swat echoes in the dressing room. The shopkeeper definitely heard it.

"Answer me. Has another guy fucked your ass?" Another harsh swat, and I wept while saying the words.

"Ah! No!"

"Good," he murmured, and I heard his pants unzipping slowly.

I wish I could say I did what I did next to save my dignity, but I really wanted him to feel as embarrassed and unable to resist our chemistry as I was.

I stood up and let my skirt fall about my legs. I got a quick glimpse of his face and dove for his cock with my lips wide open.

I surprised him. I gripped his hips as he staggered against the wall. I escaped his grasp on my hair.

In one fluid motion, his cock was in my mouth-large and hot, with the taste of sweet precum dripping onto my tongue and the smell of sweat and man going straight to my head-and I sucked it slowly.

His hips buckled, and I sucked his cock, enjoying his wildness. He fucked my mouth once, twice, then again. I just needed the courage to grab him.

I wanted him not like a man might want a woman he sees on the street. My pussy hurt as I squeezed his cock to milk his orgasm out of him. Above me, he grunted and tangled my hair. "Joyce," he hissed, and I cupped his balls in my other hand.

I wanted to tell him to come in, but that would have meant letting him go. His power, wealth, and self-control were nothing against my mouth on his hard shaft. Since we met, he'd tried to dominate me emotionally, financially, physically, legally, and sexually, but I wouldn't give in.

I moaned around the heavy shaft, swirling my tongue over the soft head as I withdrew, and he groan loudly. I felt his balls tighten in my hand and gently pulled on his sack.

"Jesus!" His voice wasn't the smooth, controlled purr I was used to, and it infuriated me. I wanted him to cum so hard he screamed, like me. I wanted to swallow his penis to prove I'd beaten him this time. He was powerless. He'd live knowing I'd milked him dry and he'd been helpless.

I jerked my head and tightened my grip on his shaft, consuming him as I squeezed and released, my tongue curling around his cock. He answered my small, insistent, rhythmic whimpers with his own.

His balls bounced and surged in my hand, and his body jerked. After a wordless cry, he poured hot cum into my mouth and down my throat.

Cum never tasted so sweet to me. Victory was sweet.

I sucked more and more as his hips jerked and he moaned as I wrung him dry.

Finished! He dropped his hands, releasing my hair. Unsatisfied, but I didn't mind for once. I'd finally beaten Luke King and taken control of my fate.

I retreated, licked his cock one last time, and smiled. I cleaned my face and smiled as I watched the thick rod pulse with his heartbeat.

I rubbed his thigh, admiring the muscles.

I grimaced.

Shaking under my hand. I glared at him, frowning.

His expression froze my heart.

He looked at me blankly. His green eyes were lowered, and his full mouth was parted, but not in pleasure. He looked devastated and panting.

I grabbed his hand.

"Luke?" Whispered. First time I used his name.

He jerked awake and focused on my face.

He said, "Don't." "Don't repeat."

I stepped back as he shook his head.

"I..." I froze. I wasn't meaning-

He exited the dressing room and turned.

I stood alone inside, feeling adrift. I just wanted to make him pay. I traumaticized him.

Whoa!