The Alpha CEO’s Unloved Wife

Baron’s Revenge Plans 

They had both fallen to sleep as the afternoon wore into evening and the storm broke overhead, the steady beat of rain against the window glass soothing them. He lay big, hot, and heavy over her, and still within her, and that sated her heat for long enough that she had slept and woken before him, allowing her the opportunity to enjoy the novelty of her handsome husband sleeping over her.

There was a false intimacy to it, she thought with sorrow as she felt the rise and fall of his chest, the steady beat of his heart, the caress of his breath against her skin. False because although they lay skin to skin, and joined, he was not her lover, she could not stroke her hands over the hot silk of his skin, nor feel the tumbled curls wrap around her fingers as she combed them back from his face.

He would not wake and lift, smiling, to kiss her. The only kiss they had ever shared had been the perfunctory, closed mouth kiss on their wedding day, and he had kissed her and released her as quickly as possible.

And then spent the reception talking business amongst the pack hierarchy, before disappearing when they had returned to his home, only returning to her in the early hours of the morning, whiskey fumes heavy on his breath.

He had never slept the night in her bed. When he came to her, he would leave again immediately after, often without even exchanging a word. Even on the wedding night, when, drunk as he was, it would have seemed natural for him to roll over and go to sleep, he had gotten up, rearranged the clothing he had not fully removed, and left.

She had been shocked and bewildered on the night. It was only in the morning when she had gone down to the breakfast table to find Angelique already seated there, beautiful, elegant and alpha, in an almost sheer lace slip and matching robe that had slipped off her shoulder and all but exposed her breast, sipping tea and eating grapefruit, that Jane had realised that there were three in the marriage, and she, Jane, the legal wife, was the unwelcome third wheel.

She had skipped breakfast every morning since.

his breathing telling her that he was awake. “I will untie you so

as he lifted to untie her wrists, in order to hide that she wept. As soon as he released her, she rolled out of

shoulder, sitting on the edge of the bed on the opposite side. “You don’t

inner thighs. She had lost count of how many times they had f-ked, but she was beginning to ache from it, her stomach muscles sore from the clench of orgasm, and her skin felt as if she had been painted in come and sweat. She had to condition her hair twice before she was able to run her fingers through it without catching on tangles, it had become so matted from being pushed against the mattress and pillows as

Baron was not there, and the scent of sex was thick and heavy inspiring her to open a window despite the rain in order to air it out. The sheets were twisted and tangled, with the tide marks of come and sweat stains ringing where she had lain causing her to blush and strip off the top sheet, bundling it up and pushing it deep into the hamper

two to three days, although being her first cycle, it could be longer or shorter. Please, she thought, please

she finished putting the bed to order, carrying

if you took milk, or not?” He said, and there was a hint of something to his voice that had her turning her head to look at him. He was embarrassed, she realised,

black if there is

I drink my tea,” he was

the morning after their wedding. Every detail of that meal was engraved into her

teacup and saucer. She took it from him and sat on the bed to drink it. He leaned his hips against the dresser