Caspian's POVI'm the luckiest man in the world, no question about it.My wife—my Cherry—thrives on challenges. And I intend to give her one she won’t forget. The thought of challenging her sends a thrill through me, making me restless as I pace outside the bathroom door. How does a man go about seducing his own wife when she’s hell-bent on keeping him at arm’s length?“Are you almost done?” I ask, knocking for the fifth time. I can't believe she locked it.There’s a pause, then the sound of running water stops. “I’m not in a hurry, Caspian,” she replies coolly from the other side. I swear I can hear the smirk in her voice. She knows exactly what she’s doing, taking her sweet time and leaving me out here, waiting like some lovesick puppy.“Really? You’re going to make me wait?” I knock again, this time with a little more insistence. “You do realize that door is only temporarily keeping me out, right?”“You’re not breaking down the door, Caspian. Don’t be ridiculous.”I grin at that. “
Desiree's POV“How many staff does one need in a house?” I mutter under my breath as yet another person steps forward with a polite “Congratulations.”So far, eleven people have come to offer their good wishes at breakfast, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that all these people work in this house. It’s like I’ve landed in a Downton Abbey episode.Caspian leans closer, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “And this is our chef, Douglas,” he says, gesturing toward a short, stocky man who steps forward with the confidence of someone twice his height.Douglas barely reaches four feet, but his presence is anything but small. His sharp eyes scan me with an unsettling mix of curiosity and something else I can’t quite place. Maybe I’m imagining it, but there’s a flicker of interest—or is that desire?—in his gaze. I blink, unsure if I’m reading too much into it.“Nice to meet you, Douglas,” I say. “The meal was incredible.”“It’s nothing,” he replies smoothly, puffing out his
I barely need the encouragement. I hit the gas, and the car surges forward, smooth as silk, gliding out of the driveway and onto the open road. The wind whips through my hair as we speed up, and I can’t help the wild laughter that escapes me.As we weave through the streets, Caspian’s eyes remain on me, a mix of admiration and something deeper in his gaze. For a moment, everything feels perfect—no doubts, no worries—just the pure thrill of freedom.“Looks like I married a speed demon,” he says, raising an eyebrow.I glance at him. “I thought you already knew I was a little wild.”“Oh, I knew. I’m counting on it,” he replies.I take a sharp turn, the car hugging the curve effortlessly. I’ve never felt so alive, so in control and yet so completely swept away by the moment. It’s a new feeling, one that I could get used to.“Where are we going?” I ask.Caspian leans back, a faint smile on his lips. “Actually, you're driving me to work. If you look in the rearview mirror, you'll see my ent
I'm not a religious person. In fact, there’ve been very few times in my life when I’ve actually prayed. But today? Today might just be one of those days. God, please get this bitch out of my sight.“Isn’t this cozy?” Mabel sneers, her eyes sweeping over the designer clothes draped across my arm. “Playing dress-up, are we?”Mike’s gaze follows suit, his eyes narrowing with judgment. I know exactly what’s running through his mind. He’s probably trying to figure out how I went from scraping by to standing in a boutique this grand. But there’s something else in his expression too—something that looks an awful lot like jealousy. Or is it regret?I square my shoulders, refusing to let them see even a flicker of anxiety. “I’m exactly where I need to be,” I say, lifting my chin. “What about you two? Came shopping for the big day?”I can play nice. We can all pretend this is just a casual, friendly encounter. Like I don’t want to smack the smug grins right off their faces.Mabel steps closer,
Caspian's POVI never imagined there’d be a day when I’d be itching to go home. But it’s been hours without Desiree, and it’s driving me insane. I always thought the whole honeymoon idea was overrated, but now I get it. Maybe newlyweds need that time together, not just to enjoy each other but to get all the obsession out of their system. Maybe then, they won’t spend every waking moment distracted, counting down the hours until they’re back together.But I doubt a month—or even a year—would be enough to satisfy my craving for that red-haired girl. “And as you can see, the chart here highlights a significant surge in sales across previously underperforming regions. Here’s Texas, for example—”I barely register Linda’s voice droning on about projections and market share. This presentation has been going on for what feels like forever, and all I can think about is getting out of here and back to Desiree. We get it—the company’s thriving. There’s no need to keep hammering it in.I force m
We pull up to the house a little after five, and the moment I step inside, I spot Desiree sitting at the dining area, flipping through a food catalog with Chef Douglas. They’re deep in conversation, and from what I can hear, it's all about the menu for Sunday’s dinner. But what really catches my attention isn’t the menu—it’s the way Douglas is practically leaning into her personal space, getting way too comfortable.“What’s that?” Desiree asks, pointing at something in the catalog.Douglas slides his chair closer to her, almost brushing against her side. I raise an eyebrow. We’re definitely going to have a conversation about boundaries sooner rather than later.“That’s ‘Boeuf Bourguignon,’” Douglas says, his voice dipping into that overly friendly tone that sets my teeth on edge.“What now?” Desiree asks.“It’s a red wine-based beef stew. A classic French dish. I think it would make an excellent choice for Sunday’s dinner.”“You think so?” she asks, genuinely curious.“I do,” Douglas
As I lean down, my lips brush against her shoulder, trailing a path of kisses up the side of her neck. Desiree shivers beneath me, her eyes meeting mine.“What’s next?” she whispers.I pause, letting the anticipation hang in the air. “Why don’t you lie back and find out?”Desiree smiles. She slowly lies back against the pillows, her gaze never leaving mine. “Comfortable?” I ask.“Getting there,” she replies, her tone just as playful.I straddle the edge of the bed, slipping my hands under her shirt, trailing my fingers lightly along her sides. Her skin is warm and smooth, and I can feel the slight tremor in her breath as I touch her. I move slowly, letting the anticipation build, watching the way her eyes darken with every brush of my fingers.“You’re not really one for rushing things, are you?” she says, half-amused, half-impatient.“Patience, Cherry. Good things take time.” I lower my lips to her stomach, placing a soft kiss there, then another, moving up inch by inch. She shifts b
I rip off her panties and fling them aside, the fabric flying across the room. Desiree's eyes lock onto mine, her pupils dilated with desire as she quickly works the zipper of my pants. I kiss her again, this time with more urgency, our tongues tangling together as we struggle to get closer.Her hands slide into my boxers, wrapping around my throbbing dick. Fuck! She's going to end me right here and now. Her touch is like fire, burning through every nerve ending in my body, leaving me breathless and desperate for more.Desiree keeps pumping forward and backward, her grip firm and confident as she drives me closer to the edge. I can feel myself losing control, the pleasure building inside me until it's almost unbearable. She pulls back, her lips breaking away from mine just long enough to whisper, "You like that?"I can only nod, my eyes fixed on hers as she continues her relentless assault on my senses. Her touch is both rough and gentle, teasing and tantalizing every inch of me."Tak
I try to dodge her attempts to smother me, but it’s impossible. She pulls me into a bone-crushing hug, and I swear I hear Caspian chuckling behind me.“Mom, you’re—” I can barely breathe. “You’re squeezing me.”“Oh, hush. You’re pregnant. You’re invincible now!” She pulls back, her hands gripping my arms as she stares at me like she’s just been handed the Holy Grail. “We have to celebrate.”“No,” I say. “No celebrations.”She ignores me, her mind already racing ahead. “We’ll call your siblings, of course. And your aunt. And the cousins. Everyone has to know. Oh, we’ll have a big family dinner—”“We’re leaving for New York today,” I interrupt, my voice firm. “There’s no time for any of that.”She frowns, her face falling in a way that tugs at my heart. “But this is huge, Desiree. You’re having a baby! My grandchild!”“Which is precisely why I’m not ready for the entire family to descend on me like vultures,” I say, trying to keep my tone light but firm. “Mom, I love you, but no. We’re
Caspian tilts his head, pretending to think about it. “Technically, yes.”“Technically?!” I say, grabbing the sheet to cover myself even though he’s seen everything. “Oh my God. She’s going to know. She’s going to know! I’m going to have to move to another continent. Maybe Antarctica.”He chuckles, too relaxed for someone who’s just committed a cardinal sin. “I’m pretty sure you’re overreacting.”“No, I’m not!” I slap his chest, but he just grins, his hand reaching up to catch mine. “You don’t know her! She’ll bring this up every Thanksgiving for the rest of my life. My life, Caspian!”“She’s not going to bring it up,” he says, sitting up now. “And if she does, I’ll handle it. Relax.”“Relax?” I throw the sheet off dramatically and scramble off the bed. “I cannot relax! This is a disaster.”He watches me, amused, as I grab the first piece of clothing I can find—his shirt—and pull it over my head. It falls halfway to my knees, but it’ll have to do.“You’re adorable when you’re panickin
“Caspian!” I hiss, my hands flying to his shoulders. Before I can protest further, he captures my lips in a kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth as if he's trying to brand me as his own. "I can't get enough of you. You're mine," he says, the possessiveness in his tone making my heart race with excitement and fear. I shiver at the dark promise in his words, my body already slick with need for him. He pulls back to trail open-mouthed kisses down my neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking at my sensitive skin as he frantically works the buttons of my shirt—his shirt, actually—ripping it open to expose my lace-covered breasts to his hungry gaze. I moan and arch into his touch as his calloused hands palm my bare breasts, thumbs teasing my aching nipples. I can feel the wetness dripping from me, already anticipating the feel of him filling me. I watch him through heavy-lidded eyes, my body trembling with barely contained need. Once he's done undressing me, he takes a lustful look
“No, it’s not,” I say, though my voice is a little too high-pitched to be convincing. “She knows what we did to get you pregnant, Desiree. She’s not going to be shocked by some creaky bed springs.” I smack his arm, my mortification complete. “Caspian!” He bursts out laughing, and despite my best efforts, I can’t help but smile. His laugh is infectious, the kind that makes it impossible to stay mad. Still, I cross my arms, glaring up at him. “You’re the worst.” “And yet, you married me.” “Poor decision-making on my part.” He reaches down, pulling me up from the floor with an ease that’s both annoying and impressive. Before I can protest, he’s dragged me onto the bed, his arms wrapping around me as he shifts us into some semblance of comfort. It’s a tight fit, but somehow it works—his body warm and solid against mine, the faint smell of his cologne grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. “This isn’t comfortable,” I grumble, even as I relax into him. “Sure it is,” he mu
“I’m trying to fix this!” I say, my voice rising. “You think I wanted to come back here? You think I wanted to face all this again? I’m doing this because it’s important—because it’s the right thing to do.”She laughs again, bitter and sharp. “The right thing. That’s rich.”“Mom, please,” I say, my voice breaking despite my best efforts. “I need you.”She softens, just a fraction, and for a moment, I think I’ve gotten through to her. But then she shakes her head, turning back to the stove.“I don’t know anything,” she says quietly. “Even if I did, I’m not getting involved.”“Why not?”“Because Elaine’s dangerous,” she says, her voice low. “You don’t know her like I do. She’ll ruin you if she thinks you’re a threat.”“She’s already ruining people,” I say. “And if we don’t stop her, she’ll just keep doing it.”Mom hesitates, her hand resting on the counter, her gaze distant. Finally, she sighs, the fight seeming to drain out of her. “What exactly do you need from me?”Relief floods thro
“Well,” Caspian says, leaning back in his chair. “That could’ve gone worse.”“Worse?” I glare at him. “She practically called us parasites.”“Technically, she only called you a parasite.”I grab a pillow from the couch and throw it at him. He catches it, laughing as he tosses it back.“This isn’t funny,” I say. “Now what?”“Now,” he says, standing and stretching, “we apologize to your mother. She doesn't seem too angry. I feel like a little touch here and there will crumble her resolve.”“How would you know? Did you see her face when she left?”“I’ve been doing business for years. It's called the ‘guilt-trip’ move. Just go over there and say sorry like the good daughter that you are.”I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”“Because deep down, you know I’m right.”I peek at him through my fingers. “I hate you.”He grins. “No, you don’t.”I leave the living room and head for the kitchen, where I’m certain Mom is.The kitchen is dimly lit, the only l
Caspian flashes her his most charming smile. “I think her headstrong nature is one of her best qualities.”Mom blinks, caught off guard for half a second before recovering. “Oh, how sweet. You really are a catch, aren’t you?”I down my glass of wine in one go.As the evening drags on, Caspian expertly steers the conversation toward Mabel’s family. It starts subtly—questions about old neighbors, mutual acquaintances—but my mother’s too sharp not to notice.“Why the sudden interest in Mabel’s mother?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.Caspian doesn’t miss a beat. “Just curious. Desiree mentioned her in passing, and I thought she sounded fascinating.”Mom leans back, swirling her wine like a villain in a soap opera. “Fascinating isn’t the word I’d use. Elaine’s always been… ambitious. But I wouldn’t put much stock in what she says. She’s not exactly the most reliable source.”“Why’s that?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.She gives me a pointed look. “Because she’s exactly
Desiree's POVI want to believe this plan will work. I really do. But I know my mom. She’s a professional shapeshifter, charming you one minute and gutting you with a smile the next. I hate that we’re resorting to her, but Caspian seems so sure of himself, so confident in this ridiculous idea that I’ve reluctantly let him take the lead.His hand is on the small of my back as he guides me toward his private jet, a gesture that feels more reassuring than I care to admit. The runway is lined with his security entourage, men in suits who move like shadows, their eyes scanning the horizon for threats that probably don’t exist. It’s all so… excessive.“You know,” I say, glancing up at him as we climb the stairs, “you could’ve just booked a commercial flight like normal people.”He smirks, not even breaking stride. “Normal people don’t have ex-strippers with billionaire husbands chasing after gossips of their scheming cousins. Or mothers with questionable boundaries. Besides, do you really w
Outside, the air is cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. Desiree leans against the railing of the porch, her hands gripping the wood tightly. “I can’t do this,” she says, her voice low and angry. “They’re useless.” “We’ll figure it out,” I say, leaning beside her. “We just need to be patient.” “Patient?” She lets out a bitter laugh. “Caspian, we don’t have time for patience. Mabel’s a step ahead of us, and we’re sitting here making small talk with people who don’t even like me.” “They don’t have to like you,” I say. “They just have to slip up.” She shakes her head, her jaw clenched. “This was a mistake.” “No,” I say. “It wasn’t. We’ll find what we need. One way or another.” She doesn’t respond, just stares out into the distance, her expression unreadable. And as the wind rustles through the trees, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve already lost the battle before it’s even begun. # The drive home feels endless, the road stretching into the dark l