Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“Looking for someone?” an old acquaintance among the group asks, and at that moment, I see her, and she sees me. I gesture her over and breathe out more easily.
“Not anymore,” I tell him. I once again play along until Brook stands by my side.
She places her tiny, delicate hand on my chest, and my arm extends around her back as I pull her into my side.
I introduce her. “This is my wife, Brooklyn.”
She simpers. “He loves to call me that.”
I kiss her cheek and whisper something about how I can still taste her on my tongue before she faces them again.
“Gentlemen, so nice to see you.” Her gaze moves along the faces, and I’m aware she knows most of them or has at least heard of them. Her circles differ from mine due to age, but the circles are still small among our tax bracket.
A few of them eye her up and down with the familiar predatory regards I’m used to seeing when men take her in. But in the back of my head, I can’t help but wonder if they’ve seen the video. An anger simmers, and I grip the tumbler of whiskey in my hand a bit tighter.
“Careful now,” I say lowly to Jace, the man closest to me who has the audacity to let his gaze wander a little too low and a little too long. “She’s mine.” The group laughs, and so does Brook, patting my chest as if I’m only joking.
I hold Jace’s gaze long enough until he breaks it and gulps down his drink.
We go back and forth with mindless chatter. And we spend the next hour socializing, watching as we work the room together like a power couple with something to prove. All I can do is endure their constant caresses on her arm and down her back.
The way they lean in a little too close when she talks to them, making sure to keep their eyes focused on hers when they really want to be eyeing her tits on full display. Their interaction isn’t the only thing that bothers me, though. What captivates me the most is how she has every man in the room eating out of the palm of her hand without even trying. I want to get accustomed to how my wife works in my element.
In our world.
This is why I fight the urge to make my presence known to her and each man she encounters. I've never felt such possessiveness and jealousy as I do here at this event. I watch her every move, from her mannerisms to the way she flips her hair when she speaks, getting these men to hang on every word that leaves her mouth.
Her subtle movements of how she stands and casually sways her body to the beat of the music from the orchestra. She never once breaks eye contact with who is speaking to her. How she casually touches their arms or chests, making sure to laugh or smile when she is supposed to like the good girl she is for me.
She’s charming and seductive, yet professional. Fucking hell, I didn’t realize I could fall further for her.
As I glance up in search of a server, I realize I’m not the only one captivated by her advances. Her father is too. He wears his emotions on his sleeve and shows me everything I want to see.
Does he think she’ll hide? As if I would let her. She thrives like this.
I love that she’s catching him off guard with how effortlessly she has the room doting on her every word, and to prove another point I can’t hold back, I escort her to the dance floor.
If she’s taken aback, she doesn’t show it. I grip her waist and pull her close against my torso, not leaving any room between us for one second.
She lightly gasps against my lips when she feels my already hard cock between her legs.
“Professor Wolf, you’re not being very discreet.”
I smile charmingly, all too aware of who’s watching, kissing her cheek. “I have no intention of being discreet. You’re mine, and the room needs to know it.”
She weighs her words as I spin her, then bring her back to me in one fluid motion. She’s light on her feet, and I find myself enjoying the night.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
She beams, countering, “If your dick is any indication, then I know exactly what I do to you.”
I let a rough grumble of a laugh out at her remark. “So you think this is only about sex between us?”
We turn in a slow circle, and not only is she caught off guard by my words but she’s also blown away by the fact I can dance.
She ignores my question. “You’ve been keeping secrets, Professor Wolf. Who taught you how to dance?”