The President’s Contracted Bride
She heard the door creak open, and her breath caught in her throat. The bed shifted behind her as he lay down, his arm wrapping around her waist. His face buried in her hair, his lips softly exploring her neck.
"What—what are you doing?" she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mind racing with the sudden intimacy.
"Hugging my wife," he murmured against her cheek. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine.
"This—wasn't part of the deal," she protested weakly, his cologne intoxicating her senses.
"Rules are meant to be broken," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "Now, face me, wifey. Let me feel your arms around me!"
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