Arranged marriage? Check.
Cocky new husband? Check.
It's a marriage of convenience—one I’m determined to keep strictly professional. I can't be stupid enough to fall for this sexy playboy's charm or advances. I have to be strong, even if he is my husband.
Except he has a huge cock with an even bigger ego, and his main goal in life seems to be getting me to stroke both. The arrogant bastard is like sweet, sugary candy for my libido. I know he’s bad for me.
But I want to devour every wicked inch of him.
W
ith his sexual prowess and experience, I know he’ll be explosive in the bedroom. And since we’re stuck together for the foreseeable future—keeping up this marriage charade long enough to turn the company profitable again—I deserve something to look forward to at the end of a long workday, right?
What could one little taste hurt?
This is volume 2 in the Imperfect Love series.
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Excerpt
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Just a little tight, is all.”
I inhale through my nose. I have to shove the pregnancy stuff to the back corner of my brain. We’re a long way off from Olivia letting me pump her full of my semen anyhow, so why am I stressing about it now? The first step is showing her how compatible we can be.
And that starts now.
I smile at her. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”
I grab a bottle of massage oil from the hall closet and return to the living room. The soft jazz music seems to float in the air, creating a pleasant buzz in the atmosphere.
Olivia’s eyes widen when I rejoin her on the couch, but she doesn’t question me.
“I’ll give you a massage,” I suggest. “Take off your sweatshirt.”
Olivia flinches, chewing on her lip while she watches me. “But I’m not wearing anything underneath.”
That’s the idea. “I promise not to look.”
She hesitates for another second, then turns her back to me and pulls her shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor. The creamy canvas in front of me is one to be admired. The twin dimples in her lower back near the band of her leggings would make lesser men weep.
I warm a few drops of oil between my palms and rest my hands on her stiff shoulders.
“Relax. Okay?”
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