Hi, I'm Cassandra. Nice to meet you. Here's what you need to know.. I'm a generally positive person, if I do say so myself. You don't bother me I won't bother you, speaking of being bothered, I don't give a crap about our doomed society's judgements, so if you want to comment about something, see if I care. I don't yell, I don't scream, and I don't raise my voice. I'd like to think I'm a nice person, but I won't hesitate to sass back. I'm sarcastic, and I will give it to you like it is, no sugar coating, no lies. But that's just if it's necessary, I like to not overreact but it's only too much a person can take.
Now here's the thing, I move to another country and meet THE bastard of the century. Never, ever; had I snapped. Until I met Xavier Hastings.
Xavier Hastings, A popular, perfect looking, charming, mysterious, leather-jacket wearing, girl-swooning, guy-envied, rich, sexist bastard.
Oh he made me snap alright, way beyond belief. Especially, for a 'hippie'. That's what he calls me. Weird, right? wait till you hear the whole story, dude.
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He fell in love with the girl he had a one-night stand with. When her true nature revealed, he hated himself for loving her and decided never to see her again. However, his fate took an unexpected turn and entangled him in a contract marriage with her, turning the girl he despised into his temporary wife.
Will their love-hate relationship lead to a deeper connection, or will it keep them forever bound by the terms of their contract?
***
As I spank her, Grace questions in a surprised tone, "What was that?"
"That was for leaving your husband alone in the pool," I respond in a teasing tone, seizing her waist and pulling her towards me, stealing her breath.
"But, my dear husband, you're pissing me off. Just move away." She tries to break free from my grasp.
"Stop moving, Mrs Grey!"
"No, I won't listen to you, Mr Grey. You told me you don't want me, so why are you here again?"
"I didn't say that I don't want you," I whisper, closing the distance between us, my lips nearing my angry wife's.
"It means the same!" She rolls her eyes.
"I want you so damn much, okay? And I'm ready to regret it again and again for doing this. Today, I'll show you how much I desire you, my wife." I confess, my fingers playing with her wet hair, and my hand still firmly gripping her waist.
"So tell me. Who is stopping you, husband?"