Hateful Games: (An arranged marriage billionaire romance) (Arranged Games Book 2)
Chapter 49

When Rosalie returns downstairs, she’s in an even bolder dress. I almost choke on air as my eyes become stuck on the deep neckline. It dips so low, ending just above her belly piercing that I can only imagine what the back looks like. Her perky tits make my mouth—with the taste of her still lingering—water.

I discreetly adjust my dick when she approaches.

“I’m ready, hubby.”

“What are you wearing?”

Oh, did I mention her dress is creating the illusion of her being naked?

“Versace.” Twirling, she gives me her back. Her bare back. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she cocks her hip and seductively purrs, “Do you not like it?”

She’s trying to kill my poor dick.

“You’re practically naked, Rose.”

“Good to know your eyes work,” she retorts, facing me. “I saved you a yearly trip to the doctor.”

Rubbing at my temple, I grumble, “I don’t understand women’s fashion.”

“Just say you don’t know women.”

“Oh, I know about women where it counts, my wife.” I cross the distance and yank her closer. Dipping my head, I rasp in her ear, “Want me to eat your sweet pussy again?”

She shivers and pushes away, giving me her sternest glare.

I hide my smile. But it drops when a sudden thought strikes. Pulling out my phone, I quickly open the camera and snap Rosa’s picture with the flash on. Ignoring her confused frown, I zoom in on the image to see if I can make out her bare skin.

No one but me is allowed to see every beautiful inch of her.

“What the hell are you doing?” she inquires, her tone highly suspicious.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“And we’re getting late,” I say, intertwining our hands and walking out of the living room and outside where the limo is waiting for us. Along with two more cars, who will follow along with the bodyguards driving them.

Rosalie steps forward, lifting the long skirt so it doesn’t come in the way. She whirls around when another flash goes off as I click a second picture. I disregard her outraged shriek and stomping of her foot as I observe the picture.

My vision turning red.

I can perfectly see her round ass, meaning so can everyone else at the reception. Her too sexy picture will be plastered everywhere. Not on my watch.

On one hand, I want to demand she throw away that dress. On the other, I don’t have the heart because she’s an exquisitely stunning vision tonight. I want to walk down the carpet with her proudly on my arm. I want everyone, especially men, at the party to know she’s all mine.

I don’t care if it makes me sound like a caveman.

Because that’s exactly what Rose makes me feel.

Crazy. Obsessive. Possessive.

Quickly, I fire off a text to my assistant instructing that no media is allowed to photograph us, lest they want to face my wrath and lose their livelihood.

“Haven’t you seen me naked enough times to be resorting to this?” Rosalie accuses after staring daggers at my phone, blind to my intentions.

“Exactly. I’m the only one who should be seeing you naked.” Nostrils flaring, I glare at her and taunt, “You don’t seem to care if the world will too.”

“Perhaps think twice before ripping my dress,” she sasses back and turns to situate her ass in the back seat of the limo.

I follow after her and sit beside her, shutting the door. Stubborn little thing tries to rise and move across from me. But I use the momentum to bring her down on my lap just as the limo starts to glide down our driveway.

Sliding my fingers up her right thigh through the slit, I wrap them around her flesh when she squirms to get up. Pushing my hand close to her heat, I dig my nails into the soft skin until she stills and command, “Behave, Rose.”

The fight melts from her limbs.

“Good girl.” I don’t lift my hand, keeping it both as a warning and because I crave to feel her under my palm. Her shy gaze flicks my way when I tease, “No Kindle tonight?”

“I didn’t bring my purse.”

Circling her waist, I open the hidden compartment beside the minibar and take out the brand new and latest Kindle I bought for her. I pass it to her. “Here.”

“You bought me a Kindle?” she asks, amazed. “Why? I already have one.”

“I bought one for each of my cars so you don’t have to worry about carrying it everywhere. Or forgetting like you do your phone.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” she whispers breathlessly, clutching the e-reader tighter. The city lights dancing on her face. “I’ll pay y—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” I growl. “Hate me all you want but you won’t rob me of my right as your husband to spoil you however and as often as I please. Trust me, I have every intention of doing it every chance I get.”

“What if I were to gift you something super expensive? Will you accept it?”

“It’s not a competition, Rose.” I smirk and caress her cheek. “But if you ever do gift me anything, I’m going to proudly show it off, that my wife bought it for me.”

“Oh,” she murmurs cutely.

Shaking my head, I nod toward her lap. “It’ll be another hour before we reach the venue. Why don’t you go ahead and read?”

“You don’t mind?”

I sense my adorable bookish girl’s eagerness to bury herself into a book. “No, Rose.”

“Okay.”

I spread my legs so she’s sitting comfortably on my lap. She shifts sideways and leans into my shoulder, eyes glued to the Kindle as she logs into her account. Instead of looking at the city fly by, I watch my wife become lost to the world—including me—as she becomes riveted by the words on the screen.

It’s been days and I’m still digesting the secret that my wife is a writer.

Not just any writer. A very talented, popular, and successful one with close to a million followers on her socials. Despite it, she’s hesitant to reveal herself and is forcing herself to be content with being anonymous.

If it were truly what she desired, I wouldn’t care. There was no mistaking the yearning in those eyes when I asked her why she was keeping it a secret. I could taste her lies, her fears, and the strong urge to stop hiding, even if she didn’t voice them.

I’m determined to uncover what’s holding her back. I’ll slay the fears for her, until the shadows aren’t holding her captive. My Rose is meant to shine. She’s the most exquisite creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. If anyone dared to pluck her petals, I’ll end them.

Yes, a part of me is ashamed for the stupid jokes I made and all I ache to do is make up for it. And I will.

Glancing at her, I take in her reactions, especially the subtle ones, as she continues to read. So absorbed that she doesn’t notice she’s practically sitting on my lap, her legs stretched on the seat. Neither does she mind my hand running up and down her inner thigh.

Sometimes she smiles or goosebumps rise on her arms as though something intense is happening. My favorite is when she bites her lips, her breathing labored and ever so slowly squirming like she can’t help herself. I just know she’s reading something naughty. Or spicy, as she calls it.

Who knew watching someone simply read could be such an erotic sight? Maybe that’s just the effect of Rosalie. Every move she makes is meant to have me lusting for her. She’s the epitome of sensuality. My walking, talking temptation.

My cock is hard as a rock.

And it’s not going away.

The driver announces from behind the privacy glass that we’re ten minutes away. I take ahold of the Kindle from Rosalie’s hand and put it away. Her irritated scowl dissolves into nerves and lust upon locking with my dark ones.

“On your knees.”

None of her signature defiance, she bites the inside of her cheek and prettily listens to my gruff command. My voice doesn’t hold any gentleness. Only the need to fill her mouth.

Unbuckling my leather belt, I unbutton and lower the zipper of my pants. Rosalie’s breathing picks up, eyes dropping from my face to my hand as I pull out my dick. Her hands land on my thighs as she shifts closer.

Fuck. Her greed and eagerness alone make me close to busting a nut.

I stroke once, spreading the precum around my pierced tip. Grabbing the back of her neck, I bring her even closer and with my grip, force her parted lips to wrap around the head. Her hungry tongue straightaway lapping at my barbell and sucking.

I tilt her head back, pulling her off my dick so she’s gazing at me with hooded eyes. Rubbing the glistening tip around her lips, I warn, “This is going to be hard and fast. Relax your throat. Open for me, Rose.”

She chokes and hums in pleasure when I thrust into her eager hole.

I’m a savage as I make good on my warning. Her little moans send vibrations up my shaft as I pound into her throat, shoving deeper. I wish I had the time to make her swallow every inch and hit the back of her throat.

Sharp nails dig into my thighs as my grunts and the sounds of her slurping on my dick fill the tight space of the limo. I push as far back as I can and hold her immobile. “Look at me.”

Her teary eyes collide with mine. I can’t seem to give a fuck that I’m ruining her makeup but I’m consumed by the depraved need to use her for my pleasure. I feel the telltale sign of her slowly losing her breath. Yet she doesn’t struggle or beg for mercy.

“Do you like choking on my fat cock?” I growl.

She moans, licking the underside of my shaft with her tongue.

“You wanted to drink my cum last time,” I rasp, holding her head down when she bucks at the lack of oxygen. “You better fucking earn it if you want it.” I ease the pressure and she gasps as my cock slips from her swollen red lips. Slapping her mouth with it, I challenge her, “Suck me off good and if you make me come in the next two minutes, I’ll let you swallow.”

Her small hand wraps around my girth and like a hungry slut, she takes me in her mouth. Several inches in and she sucks. I watch her head bob up and down as she gives it her all.

“Fuck, Rose. Just like that.” I lift my hips and give shallow thrusts. “Suck harder. Graze your teeth. Ahh… fuck yeah.”

Eyes pinned on mine, she spits to make my already wet shaft even more slippery and strokes from the base while pushing the rest of it in her warm mouth.

“One minute,” I remind her.

Fingers lower to my balls and she gently cups them. While sucking me harder and harder. I’m certain she’ll lose my dare. But the filthy little girl boldly trails her fingers even lower and catches me by surprise by pressing against my ass.

“Goddammit,” I curse, my balls pulling taut. “Dirty slut.”

“Come for me, Nova,” she softly whispers.

I lose it. “Swallow.”

And boy, does she. I hold her still as I jerk and spurt in her mouth. Again and again. My beast of an orgasm taking over me. I don’t let her up until the last of the spasms subside. Even then, she lays her head on my thigh and keeps sucking me softly.

I’m breathing harshly, still stunned by her little trick.

Dark eyes, bright with satisfaction, meet mine.

I hide my smile and free my slowly softening dick from her lips and pick her up onto my lap. A flush covers her face while her hair isn’t that messy. I was careful. But the red lipstick is another story. When I stay quiet, calming my heart down, she mistakes it for something like anger.

“Are you mad?”

Is she crazy? I’ve never come harder in my entire life. Cupping her face, I smile and tell her, “I told you nothing is off-limits between us, sweetheart. Nothing.”