I definitely hated him. This whole ordeal was actually more his fault than Paige’s, but she had been the one to agree to it, so it was her final cherry on the icing that sealed this crap deal. I didn’t care what Paige thought of me; I didn’t care if she liked me or hated me. She was just a thing in my way, an object I had to deal with. But when she had said the words, something inside me snapped. It didn’t feel good or right or even warranted, even though I’d done and said plenty of things to justify her hate. It just … it wasn’t good.
Either way, she was still mine. Mine. She might not want to be in this marriage, and God only knew why—she was the one who had signed up for it. She might not like me, but the fact remained that she was indeed my wife. She was legally bound to me. And if a secret part of me wanted to admit it, I expected her to look at me with adoration, to check out my ass as I walked by her and ogle my body when she thought I wasn’t looking. I got that a few times, sure, but it was nothing like I was used to, nothing as I had anticipated from my wife. I never really thought about having a wife, especially one I was forced to marry, but if I had one, I’d want her to see me and only me. What I did was my business. Yeah, I sounded like a hypocrite, but tough, that was who I was.
So take the fact that Paige didn’t admire me the way I deserved and couple that with the fact that she had an independent streak that I both hated and respected, and it was enough to send me over the edge. But no, she didn’t stop there; she brought her little boyfriend to our place. My first glimpse of him was while she was wrapped tightly around his body. I hated the fact that she was touching another man; I hated the fact another man was touching her even more. I hated the ease with which her body flowed around him. I hated the way they seemed familiar with each other. I hated everything about that situation. I saw red only seconds after my mind went into a slideshow of all the positions they had probably been in just moments before … in my own home … under my nose.
I wanted so desperately to punch a hole in his face, but I didn’t. I was not sure how or why I contained myself. I wanted to rip Paige away from him and take her to my room where I would lock her in the closet so no one else would touch her. She had creamy skin and smooth curves, a wet dream, a sexy dessert, but I didn’t want her. I just didn’t want anyone else to want her, either.
The asshole had moved toward her at one point as if she needed protection from me. That pissed me off even more. And then she had the audacity to stand up for him as if he meant something to her. Who the fuck was he? He was probably nothing more than some peasant she used to warm her bed. He wouldn’t even be back there again. I stormed away before I did any real damage. I heard the door close, but I didn’t hear Paige in the house, not that I would have over the roaring in my head, but that just got me even more. She left with him.
She was mine! My property, my possession, my wife, and he was getting her. It took two hours of raging against my room, a cold shower, and then a good, hard fuck from one of my usuals to calm me down.
Things were tense between us for the next week; even our typical terse level of civility seemed strained. It went back to our normal about a day or two later, and then I saw the motherfucker again. I saw him in his car driving away from my home as I was coming back. He didn’t see me and when I came home, I didn’t see Paige, so I went out that night and got trashed and ended up with a cute blonde. That wasn’t the last I’d seen of that asshole either.
I didn’t know why I would have rather had Paige screwing a new guy every night than seeing this guy a few times a month. My wife was a cheating slut either way, but something about her having a
Either way, she was still mine. Mine. She might not want to be in this marriage, and God only knew why—she was the one who had signed up for it. She might not like me, but the fact remained that she was indeed my wife. She was legally bound to me. And if a secret part of me wanted to admit it, I expected her to look at me with adoration, to check out my ass as I walked by her and ogle my body when she thought I wasn’t looking. I got that a few times, sure, but it was nothing like I was used to, nothing as I had anticipated from my wife. I never really thought about having a wife, especially one I was forced to marry, but if I had one, I’d want her to see me and only me. What I did was my business. Yeah, I sounded like a hypocrite, but tough, that was who I was.
So take the fact that Paige didn’t admire me the way I deserved and couple that with the fact that she had an independent streak that I both hated and respected, and it was enough to send me over the edge. But no, she didn’t stop there; she brought her little boyfriend to our place. My first glimpse of him was while she was wrapped tightly around his body. I hated the fact that she was touching another man; I hated the fact another man was touching her even more. I hated the ease with which her body flowed around him. I hated the way they seemed familiar with each other. I hated everything about that situation. I saw red only seconds after my mind went into a slideshow of all the positions they had probably been in just moments before … in my own home … under my nose.
I wanted so desperately to punch a hole in his face, but I didn’t. I was not sure how or why I contained myself. I wanted to rip Paige away from him and take her to my room where I would lock her in the closet so no one else would touch her. She had creamy skin and smooth curves, a wet dream, a sexy dessert, but I didn’t want her. I just didn’t want anyone else to want her, either.
The asshole had moved toward her at one point as if she needed protection from me. That pissed me off even more. And then she had the audacity to stand up for him as if he meant something to her. Who the fuck was he? He was probably nothing more than some peasant she used to warm her bed. He wouldn’t even be back there again. I stormed away before I did any real damage. I heard the door close, but I didn’t hear Paige in the house, not that I would have over the roaring in my head, but that just got me even more. She left with him.
She was mine! My property, my possession, my wife, and he was getting her. It took two hours of raging against my room, a cold shower, and then a good, hard fuck from one of my usuals to calm me down.
Things were tense between us for the next week; even our typical terse level of civility seemed strained. It went back to our normal about a day or two later, and then I saw the motherfucker again. I saw him in his car driving away from my home as I was coming back. He didn’t see me and when I came home, I didn’t see Paige, so I went out that night and got trashed and ended up with a cute blonde. That wasn’t the last I’d seen of that asshole either.
I didn’t know why I would have rather had Paige screwing a new guy every night than seeing this guy a few times a month. My wife was a cheating slut either way, but something about her having a
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