Wife for Hire

Chapter 35

Wisdom’s POV

The morning shower in this seaside mansion is so good to my skin, especially when it is accompanied by my husband’s tender kisses.

Denver’s lips began from my mouth down to my legs, leaving it in trail as if he hadn't yet tasted each inch of my body—hadn't yet discovered every part of me that he now owns forever.

He owns me, and I possess him. His name is my prayer; my body is his holy bread. Denver’s mouth found mine again. Our tongues danced wildly—a waltz and a ballet inside our mouth.

I wanted him to be here, inside me and inside my mouth. I hooked a leg around his middle. I pushed my body deeper inside him. He grinds his hips harder against me, crushing me into the wet walls of this bathroom. Denver growled his scorching desire in my ear.

We relished today’s dance for tomorrow would be another day to waltz the hymn of sexual pleasure. I put a hand on my husband’s heart and a thundering series of beats echoed into my palm.

“I love you,” his voice reverberated in the shower.

It was a soft declaration of his feelings. Wild but sweet, thoughtful but feral.

“I love you more,” I exhaled.

Even when I shampooed my hair, even if he already rubbed soap in all of his skin, hard kisses will never miss our lips.

He brushed his cock against my middle again. I gripped his hair as I opened for him.

“Wait,” I said. “Let’s go there.” I darted my eyes to the washing basin. I clasped its edge as my rear body faced Denver.

He clicked his tongue—the sound of it sent waves crashing inside me, swirling and swarming as he slid his dick into mine and stroked my ass.

I let my sensual emotions just storm inside me, letting it race with the beating of my heart. He pressed closer, and I gripped the faucet tighter. I can feel that his entire flesh is now in me, consuming its hardness and savage movement, its creaminess and swift motion.

I gave myself to that cyclone inside me, to the ferociousness of him. I can feel Denver’s warm hands on my breasts, keeping it hot and hard as it’s my turn to push and pull, pull and push.

His other hand stopped massaging my bosom and rested it firmly on my hips. With madness, he waited until he comes with my fast and quick fucking of him.

Through the mirror, I watched his expression signaling the end of our climax as I let go of my grasp in the washing basin’s faucet.

***

“That was good, Linnea.”

Denver slid his arm around my neck as we sat on the couch facing the T.V.

The coffee I made him is so warm and aromatic, a perfect blend of sugar, milk and coffee. Though mine is the complete opposite of that. Setting my cup of coffee and about to grab a cup of hot chocolate, he stopped me for a kiss.

Our bodies are sore due to our banging. I can feel it; see it, smell it, sense it.

“Denver,” I began, curious on what he would answer to my question. “What was your life back then? Back when I haven’t yet come to your life.”

I heard him inhale first, the rise and descent of his chest gives me the notion that this is going to be a long talk.

“I was a man of debauchery, of beers and peers, of lust that only lasts an hour. Every night, I bed a different woman. Every night, I spend my money as if it’s limitless.”

I just watch him speak as if he’s giving a speech to many while in reality it’s only me he’s talking to.

“So you’re a happy-go-lucky man, then.”

“Hmm. I am everything that I am not now. My life was monotonous then. A humdrum…” I watch a tear cascade from his glorious face. Ever since I met Denver, crying seems to be the only comfort I have—like a teddy bear that makes me smile wherever I go and whenever I go.

“And from that second I laid the windows of my soul to you, I knew then… that life isn’t just composed of hearts just beating in our chest. It is meant to beat with someone else—to sing together the hymn of love and affection. And it was you, the missing piece of my soul, the other one who holds the heart that my heart would like to beat with. I only intend to ‘hire’ you because I am afraid of rejection. I also used that opportunity for your two greatest rivals since they are my employees. I’m sorry for using you as a pawn to achieve my greatest desire, my Queen.” Denver brushed his lips to my hand. He kissed it, and went higher. Until he reached my arm, my elbow, my bosom. Until she found my cherry lips and lingered in there.

I parted my face and gave him a firm look. “What if you never met me? What would you do if you did not meet me?”

I heard the loudness of his sigh, the sound of his inhale and exhale, of his chest that I usually touch when we have sex rising and falling. “If I haven’t met you, I don’t think I will be able to breathe until now.”

My brows furrowed in a way that it made his. “I used to have many fights in a bar. As far as I can remember, it has been a habit of my punch to land on anyone’s face who made my blood rise every night. And I can see in their eyes, read in their eyes, that they will never hesitate to send me to my grave if they ever see me again.” His words were rough and tough to digest in my stomach. Even my stomach curled and churned to the madness of his past deeds.

“I was a war freak, always looking for brawls and fights even if the silence of the night had become deeper.” I rubbed his back to make him know that I was here, that I was just right here. That I will always be here.

“We all have painful past. But it’s just up to us if we want it to become a reminder or a warning in the present.”

“You have some wise words, my Wisdom.” He touched me in the middle and fondled it down there.

“I’m just curious, sweetheart,” I murmured in his ears, my breathing heavy due to the sensation I feel in my core. “Why, of all the women you bedded, why me? Why marry me? Why love me? Why choose me as your Mrs. Denver Giordano?”

His smile made my breath even heavier.

But my phone lights up. There’s a message from someone.

I opened the message in a heartbeat. I stopped my scream from coming out of my mouth. And I realized then…

I realized that the moment that he has gone from our life, when the second that I least expected him not to attack, he strikes.

Pictures of a man greeted before our eyes, fully clothed in black from head down to his feet. He stood in front of our seaside mansion.

I do not know who he was or how he even got here. The only thing I’m sure of is one thing: he was the stalker who threatened us days before our wedding.

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