By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

I shouldn’t like having Tatum in my home as much as I seem to.

After dinner, I poured us both a glass of wine and she curled up on the couch while I tidied up. She offered to do it seeing as I did the cooking, but I wouldn’t hear of it. She’s had a day of it. She deserved to put her feet up.

By the time I joined her, her glass was half empty and she was smiling at something on the TV.

She looks good. Too fucking good.

Her simple white tank shows off her tits to perfection. It’s all I can do to keep my eyes away from her cleavage.

The sight of her in sweatpants does something to me as well. It shouldn’t. They’re not meant to be sexy, but damn…

She hits pause on the series she chose to watch and climbs to her feet.

“Bathroom,” she says before stepping between me and the coffee table. Only, she doesn’t lift quite high enough so her toes hit the top of my foot and she stumbles.

“Whoa,” I say catching her a beat before she crashes into me.

“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbles, a bit of a slur to the words.

Glancing at her wine glass, I find that it’s empty again. As is the bottle next to it.

Her eyes find mine, and instead of immediately jumping up and running away, she stays where she is. Her eyes search mine, looking for…fuck knows what.

“Tatum?” I whisper, my fingers twitching around her waist.

It would be so easy to lift her and place her on my lap. But I can’t.

Not tonight. And not when she’s under the influence.

I might be a man who always gets what he wants. But not like that.

I earn everything I get. I don’t just take. Ever.

“Bathroom,” I say, reminding her of the reason she got up in the first place.

“Mmm,” she hums, still staring at me. “You’ve got really pretty eyes. Did you know that?”

I smile as I wait for the insult that’s no doubt about to follow. But it never does.

Instead, she says, “I could look into them for hours.”Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s funny,” she muses, making me raise a brow at her to encourage her to continue. “I always thought they’d lead directly to a black soul.”

Ouch.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

She doesn’t say anything for the longest time, and I start to wonder if she’s ever going to.

But just as I’m about to set her back on her feet on the other side of mine, she blurts, “You’re not what I was expecting.”

“No?”

“I mean, you are. You’re still an egotistical asshole but…there’s more, too.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

She shrugs. “Take it however you want,” she says before wiggling out of my hold and stumbling toward the bathroom.

My eyes don’t leave her until she turns the corner and disappears from my sight.

“And yet you’re everything I was expecting, and then some,” I muse into the silence.

While she’s gone, I get up and get us both glasses of water.

She might want to embark on a second bottle of wine, and I’m sure if she were home right now, Lorelei would let her. But I’m not Lorelei.

When she returns, she takes one look at the fresh drinks and rolls her eyes, although she doesn’t comment.

She drops back down onto the couch, but she’s noticeably closer to me than she was previously.

“You okay?” I ask as she grabs the new blanket from behind us and pulls it over her legs.

“Cold,” she says simply before pressing play on her program again.

I’ve kinda figured out what’s going on, but I’m having a hard time focusing on it. Everything is hard—pun intended—with her here in my apartment with me.

It’s weirdly comfortable, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

“Are you going to look at this?” she asks when my cell lights up on the coffee table.

I glance over and smother a moan when I see Mom’s name.

She does too and I cringe. She’s aware of my strained relationship with my mother but it’s not something we’ve delved into yet, and I’m more than happy with that.

“Nope,” I say before silently reaching out and dragging her even closer.

“King.” She gasps as I tuck her into my side and wrap my arm around her. But nothing else follows. Instead, she just gets comfortable and continues to watch.

Hours pass as we move silently from one episode to the next. We both get up to use the bathroom, but when we return, we’re still close, still touching in some way.

“God, that feels good,” Tatum moans as I pick up one of her feet that’s resting in my lap and press my thumbs into her arch.

My dick instantly hardens as her moans of pleasure fill the air, and when I glance over at her, I find that I’m not the only one affected by my innocent massage. Her chest is heaving and her nipples are pressing against the fabric of her tank.

“King,” she groans, sinking farther into the couch, her eyes still glued to the TV.

Her other foot shifts and grazes my dick, and I swear it nearly fucking goes off from that simple touch alone.

I’m in fucking trouble here.

“Don’t stop,” she begs, making me realize that I’ve been too focused on watching her than anything else.

When I still don’t move immediately, she turns to look at me. “King, wha—” She swallows whatever she was about to say the second her eyes find mine.

Something electric sparks between us and everything else fades into the background.

Her foot moves again, but this time, I don’t think it’s a happy accident.

I grit my teeth as I try to talk myself down from pouncing on her like a feral, horny animal.

“Tatum, are you being a brat again?” I warn.

Her lips part, her breath rushing past as she considers my words.

“You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

She grazes me again, and this time I have to shut my eyes, instantly giving away just how close to the edge I am already.

So much for my fucking reputation.

Dropping one hand, I grip her ankle, stopping her from moving by holding her against my aching length.

“You’re asking for something I can’t give you, Tatum,” I explain quietly.

“From what I’m feeling, I think you can.”

I swallow thickly.

“I’m not very good at doing the right thing,” I explain.

She laughs. “Don’t I fucking know it. I’m only here because you agreed to a very wrong thing.”

“Matter of opinion. There might be a lot of things I regret in my life, but something tells me that a year of this, of you, isn’t going to be one of them.”

Her eyes narrow in confusion, as if what I just said makes no sense.

None of this right now should make any sense, but instead, it all just feels right.

Music fills the room, signaling the end of the episode, and without looking, I reach for the remote and kill the TV.

“Are you taking me to bed, Kingston Callahan?” she purrs like the seductress she is.

There’s a reason she has a reputation of her own. One that Miles has been eagerly trying to avoid hearing about for the past few years.

“Y-yeah,” I stutter, hating that she can hear the hesitation. “You’ve had a long day, and a lot of alcohol. You need to sleep it off,” I explain, pushing her feet toward the floor in the hope of encouraging her to move.

It’s either that or I drag her sweats down, spread her legs and⁠—

“Fuck. Come on. It’s time for bed.”

Ripping the blanket that’s hanging over her waist, I throw it to the other end of the couch and grab her hand, pulling her to her feet.

“Ohh, someone is feeling impatient.”

My teeth grind as I climb the stairs, tugging her along behind me.

A smart man would deliver her to one of the guest rooms and close the door behind her. Out of sight, out of mind.

But I’m not feeling very smart right now.

I don’t stop until we’re in the bathroom and I place her in front of her sink before passing her a toothbrush and toothpaste.

Side by side, we clean up and get ready for bed. The entire time, my dick is more than obviously trying to punch its way out of my clothes.

“I need to shower,” I state once I’m done. “Go and get into bed.”

She turns to watch me as I turn on the shower and then drop my sweats.

“Do you…do you have a side?” she asks, her eyes jumping between mine and my cock.

“A side?” I ask with a frown.

“Yeah, you know. A side of the bed you prefer to sleep on.”

I shake my head, perplexed that she needs to ask.

“What?” she asks, seeing my confusion.

“You sleep on the side closest to the bathroom.”

Her brows pinch. “Why?” The fact she’s even asking tells me all I need to know about the men of her past.

“Because men always sleep closest to the door.”

A smirk kicks up the corner of her lips. “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” I confirm, leaving little room for argument. “Now go and get in bed. I won’t be long.”

Turning my back on her, I shed my boxers before stepping into the water.

She doesn’t leave, preferring to watch me wash.

Reaching for my shower gel, I squirt some onto my palm before rubbing it over my body.

My cock bobs before me, desperate for attention. But as hot as it would be to jerk off right here and now with her watching, I refrain.

The second I reach out to turn the water off, she turns and bolts from the room.

I’ve still got a smirk playing on my lips as I wrap a towel around my waist and march out of the bathroom.

I find her standing at the windows, staring at the sleeping city before us. And she’s still there after I’ve found a clean pair of boxers.

I’d usually sleep naked, but something tells me that might be pushing it too far tonight.

One day…

“Come on, baby. It’s time to put an end to this day.” I don’t mean for it to sound as depressing as it does, and I regret the words instantly.

I pull the sheets back and climb into my side and wait.

She spins around and studies me.

“Tatum?” I ask when she doesn’t make a move to join me.

My heart rate picks up at the thought of her refusing to sleep here.

She glances back at the stairs and then at me again.

I’ve no idea what kind of decision she makes in that moment, but I soon discover that whatever the reason, she makes the right one.

The second she tucks her thumbs into her sweats, I stop breathing, waiting for her to reveal more skin to me.

Sure, I’ve seen almost all of it before. But changing her when she’s passed out drunk and watching her get undressed are two very different things.

Her sweats hit the floor, revealing the tiniest pair of black lace panties I’ve ever seen.

Fuck. She is not playing fair with those.

She takes a step forward and every muscle in my body pulls tight.

“Turn around,” I demand.

“W-what?”

“Slowly, spin around. I want…I want to see.”

Her eyes narrow but after a second, she surprises me by doing as she’s told for once.

I guess she doesn’t need to fight it when she knows that what she’s going to reveal would knock me on my ass, if I weren’t already on it.

“Fuck,” I breathe when I get sight of her ass and that teasing strip of lace that disappears between her cheeks.

My fingers twitch with the need to pull it free and drag the sinful thing down her thighs.

All too soon, she’s facing me again and climbing into bed.

She turns her back to me and doesn’t say a word about the little show she just put on that has me as hard as nails.

Unwilling to let her fall asleep without her knowing how she affects me, I roll over and spoon her, ensuring my dick is nestled right against her ass.

“King,” she moans as I wrap my arm around her waist, giving her little chance of escape.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

She wiggles her ass, tempting me, teasing me, and I press my lips to her shoulder.

“Trouble,” I muse.

“I’m not doing anything,” she whispers. “It’s your dick that’s poking me in the ass.”

I laugh, unable to deny the facts as I pepper kisses toward her neck.

“So, you’re totally unaffected by this?”

“Yep. My body has no interest in yours, Kingston.”

“Liar.”

Silence fills the room; the only thing that can be heard is our increased breathing.

“Prove it.”