Keeping his bride

Luca

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HE PARTY IS inherently boring, and I can’t wait to be done for the night. I don’t understand the point of masquerade balls. They’re so fucking cliche. Everyone had to don a mask the moment they entered the mansion. But, hey, it gives me a chance to mingle through the crowd with a mask covering my true feelings and intents. That is a bonus.

Megatron by Laylow is coursing across the speakers scattered throughout the place, filling the room with a thunderous beat that feels like it’s inside my veins as I make my way through the crowd.

I check my phone as I walk. Dante said that they would be arriving momentarily. I don’t know why I didn’t wait for Verona to get ready, but I just didn’t feel like it. She’s been ignoring me lately, and it’s been driving me fucking crazy. So, maybe I decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. And not bringing her with me to an event is like a slap in the face.

All the couples around me are enjoying conversations together; and for a moment, I kind of wish I had Verona by my side. But then I throw that fucking thought out the window, because I can’t allow myself to feel like that. We’ll never be a real couple no matter how hard she tries to get under my skin.

I know she hates me because of our arranged marriage. And I don’t know if she’s purposely getting on my nerves or if it’s just because she’s trying so damn hard to actually make this work between us.

The music reaches its peak as a woman in a very short, very revealing red dress steps into the main entrance. Several men near me turn to look at her, commenting under their breath even with their wives within earshot.

The woman is beautiful, stunning. She has long, dark hair cascading down her bare, slender shoulders in waves. The dress looks like it was painted on, so short I can almost see her panties…or maybe no panties – I suddenly want to know which – as she descends the stairs to the main ballroom.

For some reason, I can’t seem to force my eyes away from this woman. There’s something so familiar about her. Like I’ve seen her in my dreams before or some strange, sappy shit like that.

I’m captivated by her, mesmerized by the way she moves. The top half of her face is hidden under an intricate red and black mask embellished with jewels and feathers. And I can’t stop staring at her full lips encased in a blood red lipstick.

Her petite body moves like it was made for the bedroom as she passes by onlookers, just as equally enchanted by her as I am.

She has legs for days, and I take in every inch down to the red high heels adorning her feet.

Her head turns from side to side as if she’s looking for someone. And the closer she gets to me, the harder my heart begins to beat. My cock twitches against the zipper of my tailored suit pants as she approaches.

Fuck, whoever she’s here with tonight is a lucky man.

Tearing my eyes away from her, I check my phone again for the millionth time tonight. There is a text I missed from Dante telling me that they’ve arrived. I check the time. Three minutes ago.

Glancing up at the entrance, I look for my wife, but she’s nowhere to be found. I curse under my breath just as a feminine voice says my name from beside me. I look down at the mystery woman standing next to me. “Yes?” I ask her, wondering if she’s lost.

“What? You don’t recognize your own wife?” she says with a grin.

It takes a few moments for my brain to process what I’m witnessing right now. The hot, petite brunette that I was just lusting after moments before is…Verona.

“Verona,” I spit out through clenched teeth. “What the hell are you wearing?” I hiss at her.

“A dress,” she says simply as if there’s not a care in the world. As if not every man in this fucking place isn’t staring at her and longing for her.

“You couldn’t have worn something less revealing?” I’m seething at this point, ready to drag her out of this party by her fucking hair.

“You left without me. So, it’s not like I could have asked you if it was something you’d approve of,” she says harshly.

Ah, so she’s upset that I didn’t wait for her. And this is my punishment? Well, two can play at this game. “I definitely don’t approve of my wife looking like a common whore,” I tell her with conviction in my voice.

My words visibly affect her, and I can see the tears gathering in her eyes behind her mask. I can’t bear to see her cry, so I walk away from her like she means nothing to me. I make my way to the back of the room, pulling out my phone and shooting Dante a text that he is never allowed to let her leave the house in this kind of attire ever again.

I’ve been so preoccupied with hating Verona that I didn’t even know I could be attracted to her…until I saw her in a different light. Now I can’t stop thinking about those red-painted lips wrapped around my cock.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I subtly adjust my cock in my pants. It clearly has a mind of its own. And in the middle of a crowded room is not where I want to be getting a boner like some teenage boy lusting after his first crush.

Holding my phone in my hand, I pretend to be immersed in some kind of urgent matter; but in all reality, my eyes can’t stop staring at my wife. I watch closely as she runs off towards the women’s restroom.

My cock throbs, painfully aching for her.

I realize I’m fucked in this moment. I never thought I would say this, but I’m attracted to my wife.