The CEO's Contracted Little Wife

Ashlynn’s POV:

Men. Will. Fuck. Anything.

And I’m not saying that just because my step-uncle’s in jail with bestiality charges for raping his neigbour’s dog, repeatedly. 

Then why? You may ask. 

     Well you see, my fiance was brutally murdered on our wedding day, a quite gory sight. It was a very terrifying and heartbreaking moment especially if you’d want to take into consideration that I was the one who killed the cheating bastard. 

Like I fucking planned and executed his freaking murder and I promise you, it was quite a thrilling tale. . . 

      Tristian and Ashlynn, two twenty somethings love birds who’s romantic relationship stemmed up the ‘modern way’–well, at least that’s how Ashlynn’s mother tends to describe the couple’s technical meet cute.

They had met online, by thankfully swiping right on Tinder (swoon!) after their profiles had been matched. 

     Their first date was a bit of a disaster though- it started pouring heavily while they were enjoying their outside dinner; they were soaking wet, Tristian fell into a mud puddle and they had to wait over three hours for a subway train. 

Well, the disaster was actually a blessing in disguise you see, a very venereal blessing if you’d ask me. . .

     Apparently, getting aroused from seeing each other’s drenched body in thoroughly wet, water-dripping clothes was just a kink they both shared and before one could say Kim Kardashian’s Booty, they were already having it hot and heavy under the sheets. Yes, they had sex on their first date. 

Fortunately, the two continued to love each other dearly, went on to have greater dates- and greater sex too, and now they’re getting married today! 

     Ashlynn stood beautifully, graced in bridal elegance as she radiated gorgeously in her immaculate white, mermaid wedding dress. 

      It was quite hard being in the dress, almost to the same degree the meticulous task of actually putting on the dress; The dress was tightly fitted, curve-grabbing and waist-snatching, giving her barely enough room to breath but she was actually okay with it. She looked and felt gorgeous and the uncomfortable breathing was actually worth it. 

      Her face was beaming with ear-to-ear grins. Occasional cheerful chuckles escaped her sunny smile as she dreamingly envisioned herself on the altar in just a few long minutes, standing next to the handsome love of her life, Tristian. 

      Also, frequent embarrassed blushes flustered her cheeks as she conjured up quite naughty images of what was going to happen tonight after the reception; when they’d be in their hotel and he’d be bare of clothes, exposing his virile, brawny masculine body that she simply couldn’t get enough of and how she’d soon be tangled up in his arms yet again, wearing one of those Va Va Voom sexy lingerie thingies from Victoria’s Secret her mother had insisted she bought for the night’s task. 

     Kyndall, Ashlynn’s best friend and chief bridesmaid had insisted on giving the bride’s wavy, blonde luscious hair one last brush before they leave. 

      Kyndall gave out a refreshing, complacent sigh as she was done brushing the bride’s hair. “There, there. I’m done and your hair has never looked better.” She smiled, hands clipped on her waist as she admired not only the stunning bride’s brushed hair, but her dazzling presence in her wedding dress as a whole.

      “Thank you very much Kyn, for the umpteenth time.” Ashlynn chuckled as she walked away from the mirror, going on to plump herself unto a sofa. Kyndall had brushed her hair like five times already in a space of just two hours as she had insisted that the bride’s hair is her most important feature on her wedding day. 

      “Hey!” Kyndall called out offensively, unsatisfied with the sarcasmous ingratitude that Ashlynn posed. “I’m just making sure your hair looks perfect for the wedding.” She huffed. 

      “Sure, brushing my hair pointlessly five times has made it look very, very perfect for the wedding. I love you so much bestie.” 

      Kyndall rolled her eyes. “I can’t with your sassy ass right now.” She waved off, walking away from the mirror and then tossed the brush to—God knows wherever it landed, as Ashlynn snickered.

      “The veil and your bouquet of flowers were delivered to Aaralynn’s room, accidentally.” Kyndall announced, plopping herself on a nearby chair. “I call shotgun on not having to go get them for you!” She quickly added, grinning proudly. 

      “That’s not how shotgun works!” Ashlynn pointed out chuckling, earning a tired groan from her best friend. 

      “I’m so exhausted Ash! I seriously don’t have it in me to go down nineteen floors, walk down three hallways and deal with Lynn’s stupid attitude just to get it!” Kyndall cooed. “Ugh, now that I realize it I see why there’s ‘maid’ in chief bridesmaid because I’ve been nothing but your servant all day, and the wedding hasn’t even started yet.” She further whined, heaving a huge sigh. 

     “Fine then, I’ll go get it myself.” Ashlynn laughed, walking out the room and Kyndall smiled satisfactorily, leaning further into the chair and shutting her eyes. 

Aaralynn Holmes was the stunning bride’s twin sister. They were sheer carbon copies in physical attributes and complete contrasts character and behavior wise. 

You’ll see soon. 

     Ashlynn went down the elevators and strode down the hallways, walking to Aaralynn’s private suite– in her wedding dress, yes. 

She entered into the glamourous ambience and made her way to it’s main bedroom. Just as she was about to softly knock on the door, It befell her– a strong premonition.

      A hard chill ran down her spine; her body felt the same way it would feel if a bucket load of ice cubes were roughly showered on her. Something felt terribly wrong. 

She was about to shake off the strange, enigmatic feeling but then her gaze caught the sight of a pair of car keys she had been quite acquainted too. Her memory quickly identified it to be Tristian’s. 

      What in hell’s tarnation were Tristan’s car keys doing there?

Before Ashlynn could fully analyze all the possible ways and reasons that would prompt Tristian’s car keys to be in Aaralynn’s room, she heard it.

     An oddly familiar voice. One that was definitely not supposed to be there, certainly not at this time.

Tristian’s voice. 

She was sure heard it. 

     Tristain’s voice, the to-be-groom, in her twin sisters private suite in a hotel that was meant for the bride's family.

Why was he here?

Her curiosity thickened and heightened to the peak. She needed to know why he was here and she needed to know now. 

So she gently and as stealthily as she could, advanced towards the main bedroom’s door, opened it and tiptoed quietly into the dark room. 

     And with every step she took towards the main bedroom, it became clearer and clearer and clearer and so overly clear that her heart skipped a beat when she finally realized what was going on in that bedroom.

     With shaky hands and all of the brazenness she could muster at that moment, she opened the door to the bedroom and she couldn’t really say then, if she was able to figure out what those sounds were and meant before or after she had opened the bedroom door, but she was certainly dumbfound and bewildered when she met with the heartbreaking, surprising scene, Shit!

     Reality dawned on her the moment she switched on the lights and saw her Tristian, pants down, moaning and grunting as he banged the shit out of her twin sister’s ass. 

What the actual freaking fuck?