His Second Wife

Chapter 32

~Christopher’s POV~

Slap!

Hell, I miss being slapped by my wife’s little hand.

“Wife? If anything, you and I are just a transition, just like business,” she scoffed. “I am not your wife.” Immediately after saying that, she tried to walk past me, but I grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to me. She refused to submit. She fixed her gaze on me as if she were fixated on something trivial.

“You appear to be pressed for time. Who are you meeting with? Does the man you are meeting know that you are married to me? Did you tell him?”

“What made you think that being married is a problem? Are you not sleeping around despite your marital status? Did you believe you could sleep around while I sat back and watched or wait for you, Mr. Grayston?”

I felt like strangling her when I stared at her, but she was too lovely to be strangled, too fucking sexy when she is all sassy. I stared at her and vowed that she would not leave and that I would remain her husband.

I placed my arms around her and smothered her with a kiss. She struggled but eventually succumbed. I am her husband, and she is my wife. She is not permitted to fuck around. I broke the kiss.

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She wanted to slap me again, and I coerced her into another kiss. I slammed her against the door, suffocating her. I was going to land on top of her if anyone dared to open the door. She fought again, but I was stronger. I freed her, and she attempted to hit me once more.

“If you slap me again, I’m going to kiss you. Now listen,” I grasped her face firmly, causing her lips to pout, “you’re going to put an end to your folly and return to your rightful home.”

Fuck, her lips were sexily seductive. With my hand, I drew her face closer and kissed her until she was out of breath. I only saw her teary eyes. I could tell she didn’t want any of this, but she is my wife, and I am not about to give up what is mine to some good-for-nothing lads. If I were not at the office, I could have shoved my fingers inside her to teach her a lesson. She doesn’t get to do what she wants. I am the one who determines when and where. I freed her. She tightened the grasp on her chest in an attempt to take a breath.

“If you dare me, Camille, next time I’ll do more than just a kiss. Understood?” I said while pointing my index finger at her. I saw her nodding like a good submissive girl. “Now, you are going to fetch Liam and return home or the next time we meet, you will not like what I will do to you, wife.”

~Camila’s POV~

“Now, you are going to fetch Liam and return home, or the next time we meet, you will not like what I will do to you, wife.” He made a sneering remark.

What is the matter with this man?

I was clutching my chest in an attempt to inhale. I wanted to tell him about the meeting I was going to. However, I was reminded that this bastard was a complete stranger to me. My title is merely that of a wife. I gathered my wits and restored my calm. I just had to fire back. I couldn’t show him how much his kisses affected me. I just couldn’t. I mended my gown.

“What is it about my behavior that you are so concerned about? It’s my life, I can do whatever the hell…” He refused to let me continue. He grabbed me and pushed me up against the meeting table, then shoved his finger inside me. I screamed, but it did not affect him. All he did was smirk, I was wet down there. I had no idea what was happening. I was unable to make a noise and move around with

his finger thrusting roughly within me. He added another finger and savagely thrust inside me. I couldn’t keep quiet. I moaned like a bitch. He slammed his lips onto mine. While the other hands grasped my waist securely in one place.

He was in control and he knew I wouldn’t dare scream out loud since we were in the office. Anyone can walk in. I tried to push him away but in less than a minute, I was yelling his name.

“Chris!” I yelled. I crashed his lips on mine and kissed me while his fingers continued to thrust into me. His other hand moved to my hair and snaked in, giving me a tingling sensation. I gave in and held on tight to him and I started to tremble uncontrollably. As I had a gigantic orgasm on top of the table and he removed his fingers and began licking them clean in front of me. I couldn’t recognize my own voice as an orgasm ripped through me. Why is he acting in this manner? I perched at the table, unsure of what to do or more precisely, what to say to him. What was he thinking when he decided to do this? Why does he feel the need to constantly make me feel something for him? Why is he tormenting me like this? I couldn’t rise from my position, tears streaming down my cheeks. My legs couldn’t carry me.

I slammed my fist into his chest, demanding answers. I’m not sure why I’m sobbing. He drew me into a bear embrace. I despise him for what he has done to me. He planted a kiss on my forehead.

“You are fucking mine, Camille! You are my wife! Remember that each time you think of fucking a boy.”

He forced me into a kiss and a moan escaped his lips. Which left me puzzled.

“What exactly do you want from me? I am not interested in you. Please leave me alone. You cannot continue to abuse me in this way. Why are you toying with me, with my feelings? You should stop. I am not interested in any of this.”

Choosing this path with Chris would be detrimental to my well-being. He seemed unconcerned with my teary eyes. He lifted my trembling legs and devoured everything that came out of me, his tongue lapping in my folds, then in my clit, I started trembling again. He held me in place till I screamed again

as yet another orgasm ripped through me. All while looking me straight in the eyes. I was speechless. He seems to care, but him devouring my pussy like this is dangerous. He is confusing me, he calls me a child but confuses me each time we are together. What does he want from me? The soft Chris I saw a minute ago was now gone. His gaze became icily cold, almost lethal in its intensity.

“Now, you can go have fun with your little boyfriend. Let what happened here serve as a reminder that you are mine.” He then walked away.

Why does he feel the need to constantly confound me? He wants something from me, but what exactly is it? What does Christopher Grayston want from me?

For the last three months, I have been at peace. My date would be anticipating my arrival. I summoned all the last strength I had. I had never been touched like that before in my life. Let alone be fingered down there. The last time Chris tried, I jumped. Regrettably, it has to be him, of all people. He was the man I married. I was still engaged in a battle with my own demons. He will never see me as a woman; in his eyes, I am merely a small girl. That is one of the reasons why I left our home. I’m not fond of the way I’m gradually developing feelings for him. He is my husband but he is detrimental to my health. I rose and walked away, angry with myself for being so frail.

~Christopher’s POV~

I had crossed the boundary yet again. Why the fuck can’t I control myself whenever the girl pisses me off? Why? I agreed with myself not to touch her. Why did I have to go to such lengths? I could care less. She is my wife. This is an activity that a husband and wife should undertake jointly. What is it about my wife that screams ‘fuck me’ to me? She has an uncanny ability to turn me on without even trying. Why am I compelled to fall in love with a girl? Am I succumbing to my wife’s charms? No, that is not possible. But, on the other hand, why am I so envious of her having a boyfriend? Why did I go to

such lengths to prove to her that I was superior to her boyfriend? Am I some adolescent? Shit! Why was I compelled to feel like competing with some boys?

Camille, what exactly are you doing to me?

Does she even realize that whenever I fuck a woman, I always visualize her body for me to cum? Every woman is unattractive to me because of her. This time, I’m forced to wait for her and follow along as she goes to see her boyfriend.

Today, I vow, I will murder someone. I followed Camille’s car to a restaurant. I parked outside. As she approached the restaurant’s entrance, a man approached her with flowers. When I thought about it I realized that the last time I bought flowers for a lady was when I was head over heels in love with Claudia. Someone sending flowers to my wife was a pain in the arse. Is that man her beau? While the man stood at the entrance, she headed inside.

So, her little boyfriend arranged for her to get flowers as a token of his love. He’s romantic, but I’m not going to care since I’m going to kill him today. Camille is a personal possession of mine. Fuck! Right now, I hate myself. Why do I have such a strong passion for my wife that I would kill for her? I’d like to hear more of her chanting my name on top of that table. Is it possible that I’m head over heels in love with her? Why am I so confused about my own feelings? Do I really love her? No, I am not capable of falling in love, that love is like speaking Hindi to me. That is impossible. Well, if this is love, this kind of love is very dangerous and will make me a murderer. This is not something I have ever felt with anyone, not even Claudia. I am convinced I never love Claudia. I liked the sex. The person I love is that 22-year-old and it scares me. I exited the car and proceeded to the restaurant; whoever is with my wife today will suffer my fury. I opened the entrance to the restaurant and walked in.

What the fuck? Is that…