The Billionaire's Bride

Chapter Two – Day Two-1

Something wakes me, a sense of heat on my face, and I blink open to find a lone streak of sunshine slanting over me from the window. A warm breeze billows the drapes, filling the room with the fragrance of roses and cut grass.

And from close by, the scent of my Master.

There beside me, sleeping in our bed, he lies facing me, one arm curved over my waist.

Our bed.

OurNo longer am I his contracted courtesan. But his wife.

wife.Richard Haswell. My brand-new husband.

I turn it over, tasting it in my thoughts, smiling to myself. The idea still sets me aglow. Doubtless it will do so for some time to come.

I still can’t believe it. Life doesn’t deliver like this to girls like me.

And yet, it has.

So… What now?

Things I want to do with my life...

I did indeed have things I wanted to do. My college course, my training for a career. For years, I ached to be independent, to have a life to call my own.

But now I"m married to the wealthiest man in the City, and probably for a hundred miles around.

Where does that put me?

True, I"m still working through my training. Next week I would have been due for a spell in the HR department. The wedding and all that goes with it has postponed all that of course.

Postponed?

Or cancelled?

What am I supposed to do now?

What I supposed to do now?Then, inwardly, I chuckle. It’s obvious really.

*****

Padding up the stairs, tray in hand, I re-enter the bedroom. My Master, angled up on an elbow, wipes sleep from his eyes. “Elizabeth? Where have you been?”

“Can’t a new wife bring breakfast for her new husband?”

His face softens, lighting up his eyes. “Of course she can. Thank you, my Love.” He shifts to sit properly upright, and I plump up a pillow to push behind him. Once he’s comfortable, I serve him coffee in a perfect porcelain cup and saucer. He gulps down the first cup in a couple of swallows, but sips at the second, alternating with bites of toast and marmalade.

When I think he’s taken enough on board for the day to make sense, I pose my question. "Master, what happens after this?”

He pauses in chewing his toast, brow furrowing. Chewing again, he gulps and swallows. “After what? Sorry, Elizabeth, what are we talking about?”

“After the honeymoon. What happens next?”

“Elizabeth, I"m not following you. What are you asking me?”

“Master, when we first met, I was just a trainee in your company and your…” My face heats… “… your employee.” His lips pucker and he tilts his head. “But now, suddenly, I"m Mrs Haswell. Do I go back to work and college as I did before? Am I supposed to be with you all the time?”

employeeMrs HaswellHe blinks. “Not all the time, Elizabeth. Few married couples are together all the time. I’m sure it wouldn’t be good for either party to be so dependent on another person, however close.”

allHe sips at his coffee again. “I still don’t truly understand what you are asking me. Would you prefer not to work? You don"t have to if you don’t want to. If you want to be a…” For a moment, he flounders for the words… “… a professional wife, that is of course, an option for you. If it’s what you want, I"m sure looking after this house and its grounds would keep you busy. Such a home is a full-time career in its own right.”

not,My mouth flaps open. Then closed again. “A professional wife? Master, I wouldn"t know where to start.”

professional wife?He sucks at his teeth. Tugs at an ear. “I suppose we should both have thought this through before. You will appreciate that I hold some status in the City. As my wife, you also have a standing in the community.”

“Master, you’ve married a shop-keeper’s daughter.”

Humour tugs at his lips. He levels a finger at me. “And I’m thankful for that. Elizabeth, you have a great store of common sense. I encounter far too many social flitterby’s who make their way through life tagging along behind their man.” He pauses, his forehead furrowing. “I’d like you to tell me about your family sometime.”

My throat tightens. My words are slow and reluctant. “My family?”

“Yes…” His frown deepens. “Your father and mother. How you grew up. I noticed you didn"t talk with them very much at the wedding. Just that old uncle of yours and, was it one of your cousins?” He slips a hand over mine. “But I can see I’m making you uncomfortable. It doesn’t have to be now necessarily but… sometime.”

“I’ll do that, Master, but as you say, some other time. For now, let’s just say that my life with you is very different to how I grew up.”

His expression hovers between a smile and puzzlement. “Good different, I hope.”

Good“Of course, good, Master. It’s just…” My words dry up.

good,The hand squeezes my fingers. “Of course, yes. But your father owns a hardware store. It must have been a huge turnaround to find yourself with me, money no object.”

courseI laugh... “You have no idea.” … then sober up. “I understand what you are, Master. My husband is an important man in the City. I have to accept what goes with that.”

ideaHe slow-blinks, head canting. “Elizabeth… Are you regretting your decision to marry me?”

“No! Oh, no, Master. Marrying you is my fairy-tale. I’m just… I suppose all my attention was focused on the two of us. I’d not stopped to consider what else might be involved.”

No!He doesn’t reply at first. Instead, he snags another slice of toast, scrapes butter over, then crunches a bite. Finally, “Your life doesn’t have to be so different. There’s nothing stopping you from pursuing your academic work. Or from continuing your training in the company. Indeed, I think you should. I would like it if you did. You have already proved yourself to be an adept thinker with an eye for detail. Before, as you say, you were simply my employee. Now, I have you at my side. Don’t I?”

nothing “Always, Master. Always.”

“You"re receiving your training in my company, Elizabeth. But there"s nothing that says you have to stay after you have completed your training. You could take a position in another corporation...”

I arch a brow. “One of your competitors?”

“Hmmm…” He purses his lips, but humour skirts around his eyes. “Not one of my better suggestions. But, you could set up for yourself. Your own business.”

“What would I do?”

Now he arches brows. “That"s hardly for me to say. What appeals to you?”

“The thing is, all I really know is how to run a hardware store.”

“Which you did very successfully, with your father using you as cheap labour.”

“Master, you really don"t know I was successful at it.”

He gives me a dry look. “You think? You imagine I didn"t check that out? Your father"s store has gone from strength to strength over the last eight or ten years, against the competition of two others in the same small town. You"re competent, Elizabeth. Hard working and honest. That"s a good basis for any business owner. Anything that"s missing in your skills list can be corrected if you are willing to apply yourself, as you are.”

“I suppose it’s not something I ever thought about.”

“So, think about it now. I’m guessing you don’t want to spend the rest of your life as a satellite to me, so start thinking about what you do want.”

His frown softens. “In any case, I don’t see that any of that is inconsistent with any new role you may have taken on as my wife.”

any “New role? Such as?”

He shrugs. “I presumed you would wish to be my hostess for dinner parties and such. And at my side for a variety of functions.”

My brain blanks out. “Hostess? Functions? What functions?”

“Yes, hostess. And…” He looks away. Looks back. “For example, next week there is a charity function at City Hall. In this case, the mayor is hosting the event. I am expected to attend. With…” He expression turns wry… “With my check book handy… I would like you to attend with me.” He pauses, frowning again. “You don"t have to of course, but I assumed you would want to. I hope you want to.”

hostess. youhope“I do want to, Master. It will be the first time we go out to be seen together as Mr and Mrs Haswell.”

do“Good.” He sounds pleased. “That’s settled then.”

“Yes, it is.” I clear his empty cup and plate onto the tray. “I’ll take these downstairs, then…”

He interrupts me. “My Love, I believe you are forgetting something.”

“Master?”

He flips back the blankets and pats the mattress beside him. “A man cannot live by coffee and toast alone. And he has duties to fulfil to his new wife.”

How can I not smile?

My Master’s eyes follow my hands as I unravel the belt of my robe, slip the robe from my shoulders, allowing it to puddle at my feet then, naked, slide onto the bed.

Face to face, eye to eye, mouth to mouth, we meet. Cupping my cheek, he brushes his lips over mine, then shifts to move closer, his other hand pressing me at the shoulder to push me down.

As I lie flat to the sheets, he rolls to lean over me, one arm looping around my hip, pulling me tight as, open-mouthed, his lips crush on to mine. His body is hard and firm and increasingly, I’m aware of the extra hardness pressed to my thigh.

He breaks away. “Open up. Your new husband wants to fulfil his husbandly duties.”

“Again? That’s three times in…”

“Be quiet, Madam,” he mutters. “Do as you’re told.”

Already warm inside, my core liquefies at his words. Feeling loose and liquid, I part my thighs, arching to present myself to him as he rolls atop me, supporting himself on both arms now to take his weight.

The hardness that pressured my thigh now anchors onto my s*x. The curve on his lips reaches his eyes. “Well, Mrs Haswell,” he murmurs. “Are you going to argue some more? Or are you ready to accommodate your husband?”

I loop arms around his shoulders. “Always, Master.”

“That’s good to hear. Because I intend to spend several days inhibiting your ability to walk straight.”

His smile fades, and lowering himself a little, his expression intense as he supports me behind the shoulders, gradually sinking into my depths. It’s so smooth, so easy. I’m ready for him, my flesh welcoming his as he enters me, taking his rights of me as Master and Husband. As he fills me, I draw in air, letting it out again with a gasp.

Withdrawing again a little, he pauses again, unravelling his arms from behind me, then unlooping my arm from around him. One large hand looping around my wrists, he levers my arms up, pressing down against the pillow…