All Chapters of The Womanizer's Mute Wife : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Kier’s POVYou could ask me what the damn movie was about, and I wouldn’t have an answer.But if you asked me what I noticed about my wife?I’d have about ten things to say.One: she had four tiny birthmarks—just little dots—on the left side of her neck. How I even noticed them in the dim lighting of that fucking cinema was a question for another day.Two: she always bit down on her lips when she was concentrating, like right now. I was sure she had completely forgotten I was even here.And there were more. I could keep listing them. And why I did this? I had no idea.But I couldn’t deny it anymore—I was getting attracted to my wife.She wasn’t my usual type. Yeah, I didn’t know how many times I’d said her face was beautiful, but a pretty face alone never got me as hard as a rock for a woman. That was just one part of it.And yet, here I was, hard as a damn brick, and it was freaking me out.I had spent days wondering how I’d be able to knock her up when I couldn’t even get it up for

Kier’s POVDamn it. I wanted to hear her moans. I wanted to hear her scream my name, to make sure she knew exactly who was inside her and never forgot it.But since I couldn’t have that, I’d make sure she felt it.With every thrust of my hips, I’d etch myself into her body, deep enough that she’d never want to lay with another man.The thought was possessive. Animalistic. And yet, it was me. It had always been me. Even as a child, I hated sharing what was mine. As I grew, that feeling only became fiercer, especially with the women I fucked.But they were never for keeps. When I took them, they knew, as long as they lingered around me, only I got to touch them. And when I was done, the others could have them.But this? This was different.She was my wife. My wife. And I didn’t just want to claim her, I wanted to own her in every way. Even men who hated their wives still refused to share them. That was just how it worked.And right now, as I looked down at her, I knew one thing for cert

Kier's POV"Aren't you supposed to be home with your new wife instead of checking out single ladies?" Charlie teased, his tone dripping with mockery.I barely spared him a glance, raising a brow in silent thanks as the bartender slid my whiskey across the counter.Then, turning to Charlie, I shot him a glare. "Would you lower your damn voice? Do you want everyone to know I'm married?"He scoffed. "Really? That’s what you're worried about? When you called me, while I was in Rome, by the way, and told me you were getting married, I was surprised. No, actually, I was shocked. Then I was happy. And then…" He took a dramatic pause. "I was horrified."I took a slow sip of whiskey, letting the burn sear the back of my throat. That was exactly what I needed.Maybe it'd knock some sense into me.Because I had taken my wife against the wall. Like some kind of maniac.I shook the thought off. Dwelling on it only made things worse. And not just because of the guilt.Turning back to Charlie, I exh

Kier's POV"Does your father still think we’re in the 1800s? Who still forces their children to marry some random girl they don’t even know?" Veronica huffed, clearly more annoyed by the situation than I was, the one actually in it.I let out a small, humorless smile, but as my eyes drifted toward Genesis, the smile vanished.Why was she smiling?I glanced at Charlie, who was leaning in too close to my wife, that ridiculous grin plastered on his face—the same one he always wore around women he fancied.And she wasn’t even pulling away.Okay, she wasn’t exactly leaning in, but she was sitting there, smiling at him.I didn’t like that.Wait—saying it like that made me sound like a controlling asshole.I just didn’t like that she was smiling at him.I thought she didn’t like strangers. She barely even talked to me. But now, she was completely comfortable, amused even.And that bastard was—"Kier, are you even listening to me?"Veronica’s voice snapped me out of my blatant gawking—no, no,

Kier's POV “Mr. Blackwood, your three o'clock meeting will commence soon,” my PA, Rachel, said over the intercom. “Thank you, Rachel,” I replied, settling back into my chair. I leaned back and stared out through the glass wall. As I sat there, my thoughts drifted back home. I had left the house early this morning—she was still sleeping when I left. I couldn't help but watch her for a moment, like a creep, mesmerized by the way her brow furrowed in her sleep, as if trapped in a nightmare. I reached out and smoothed her brow. Just as I was about to pull my hand away, she reached out and grasped it. I found myself frozen, her hand wrapped around mine, holding me tight until she slipped deeper into sleep, her grip loosening just enough for me to gently pull away. Leaving her had been harder than usual. No pun intended, but I wanted nothing more than to stay and watch her sleep. Still, I had to leave, knowing she’d be fine for a while longer. “Sir, the meeting is about to begin,