The Billionaire’s Bride: Our Vows Do Not Matter

Cathleen’s heels clicked against the porch as she left the sanctuary of the shaded swing, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the ground. The house loomed before her, its windows like judgmental eyes watching her every move. She exhaled sharply, squaring her shoulders against whatever awaited inside. This was just an accusation, and it’s not like I was pregnant. The thought was almost amusing to her.

As she pushed through the door, the coolness of the interior wrapped around her like a shroud. Her gaze landed on Xavier, his back turned, his movements meticulous as he cleared the remnants of their breakfast dispute from the table; everyone else was gone. Cathleen sighed. This wasn’t the Xavier she knew-the one who lounged and left messes in his wake for others to clean. This man before her was doing dishes, handling China with care.

“There you are,” Xavier said without turning, his voice echoing slightly off the tile. He dried a plate with a towel, the muscles of his forearms flexing subtly under the strain, then placed it with a clink among its pristine counterparts.

Cathleen approached, her stride confident despite the oddity before her. “I didn’t see you as the cleaning type,” she remarked an edge of challenge in her tone, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

Xavier faced her then, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Oh, you don’t know a lot of things about me, Cat.” His voice was low, a growl threading through the words, each syllable heavy with intent. “I actually want us to get to know each other because I noticed I know shit about you and so do you. How about that?” There was a dare in his suggestion-a gauntlet thrown down at her feet.

Cathleen felt the weight of his stare; the tension between them was thick enough to slice. Yet, in the charged silence that followed, a strange curiosity flickered within her. This man, her husband in name and turmoil, was an enigma-one she hadn’t bothered to solve. But now, as he stood there, a dish towel in hand and a proposition on his lips, Cathleen wondered if this game might be worth playing if only to best him at his own challenge.

“Remember, this marriage is a contract; it will end in, like, a few months from now; there is no need for that.” Cathleen’s voice was steady, her gaze fixed on the man before her. She was unflinching; her legal mind was always seeking leverage.

Xavier turned from the counter, his movements deliberate and predator-like. “We broke a lot from that contract, don’t you think, Cat?” The nickname, a velvet caress against the harsh reality of their arrangement, made her pulse quicken despite herself. Xavier had seen through her façade and recognized the involuntary shiver she couldn’t suppress.

Cathleen crossed her legs in an attempt to anchor herself as he loomed closer. “For your information, I didn’t get married to get divorced, Cathleen,” Xavier declared, his tone laced with an undercurrent of something indefinable. “We didn’t start this union on a good foot, but I am a patient man. I’ll wait for you.” His words were a steel trap, closing slowly around her resolve.

“But something is bothering me,” he continued, now towering over her, a dark presence that commanded attention. Cathleen tilted her chin up defiantly. “Why are you so scared of getting pregnant?” he demanded.

“It’s none of your business,” she shot back, her eyes fierce, challenging him to push further.

Undeterred, Xavier leaned in close, the heat of his body nearly searing her skin. His hand found its way to the kitchen counter, and the other gently but firmly tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his penetrating gaze. “When a husband and wife get married, they fuck. And when you fuck your wife or your husband without protection, you fucking get pregnant. Are we pregnant, Cathleen?”

Her laughter rang out, sharp and mocking. “Pregnant? You and who?” There was no fear in her, only the cold armor of her wit.

A slow smile crept across Xavier’s lips, and in one swift motion, he grabbed her wrist, pinning her hand against the cool surface of the counter. He spanked her ass so hard-a sound that echoed through the room, primal and possessive. “I like it when you defy me, Cat. Because that turns Daddy on.”

The words were vulgar, the action obscene, yet they struck a chord within her that resonated with dangerous intensity. The game had changed, the rules rewritten by his dominance, and Cathleen found herself caught in the tumultuous storm of their twisted marriage-a contract inked in anything but black and white.

“Trust me, Xavier, I don’t want your baby. I am on birth control,” Cathleen hissed, defiance lacing her words as she tried to wrestle back some semblance of control.

His laughter was a dark rumble, with a hint of malice in the timbre. He spanked her again, harder, and her body betrayed her, responding with a shiver of unwanted pleasure. “Birth control, you say, Cat? Now tell me, why would a virgin be on birth control?” he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Me, a virgin? You really are full of yourself, Mr. Knight.” She scoffed, a sharp laugh escaping her. “What makes you think a sex worker would be a virgin? I have sex for a living. Do you really think I would give my first time to a man like you? No, never.”

The air crackled between them, charged with tension and unspoken truths, as they stood locked in a battle of wills. But Xavier was relentless.

“But you did, Cat.” His voice was a low growl, full of predatory certainty. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I saw everything. I might have called you all sorts of names because I knew shit about you, but you see Cat…” He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear, while his hand moved decisively between her thighs.

“This little pussy in between your legs,” he murmured, his finger slipping inside her and thrusting with a force that made her gasp, “is mine.”

She was on the edge, teetering on the brink of bliss, when he pulled away, leaving her body aching, craving completion. “Xavier Knight!” she yelled, her voice ragged with need and frustration as he began ascending the stairs. “Fucking come back and finish what you fucking started!”Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

But he only smirked over his shoulder, the glint in his eyes telling her he knew exactly what he was doing to her. Unraveling her piece by piece. With each step he took, it became clear-this was a game of power, and Xavier played for keeps.