His Psycho Lover

CHAPTER FOUR



I got up early since I have a lot of work to accomplish. I just got married yesterday, and I thought we could go on our honeymoon last night. But when I kissed her, she refused. I’m not sure what’s going on in her head. All she said was that we had to wait a month before I could fuck her.

She said that if I can’t stand it, I have to beg her. She’s willing to do it if I beg her to.

Like what the hell. I thought we got married so we could fuck and fuck each other, but now she wants me to beg?

This wedding is a dumb idea, and I’m not even sure why I agreed to it. Why did I marry such a weird woman?

“Hmp.” I heard her moan as she slept. When I looked at her, I noticed she had her nightgown up, exposing her thigh. She slept in my room and stated that she will do so till I beg her to have sex with me.

“Shit.” I hissed, but I couldn’t take my gaze away from her. She suddenly flipped. And because she wasn’t even wrapped in a blanket, I could see the shape of her body. Her flawless back and the curve of her ass are showing.

Damn. How does it feel if I press my hardness in the midst of her ass as my fluids stream behind her? This is a ridiculous thought.

“Mmm…” she moaned again, this time louder. Is she awake or asleep? I believe this woman is simply messing with me. Trying to get me to talk to her. But she’s not going to get what she wants. I’m not going to ask her to have sex with me.

I’m curious how many men she’s made happy. How many men have gone insane because of her? Even I, who am only staring at her, is going insane thinking about how good she plays in bed. How she grinds, shouts, and appears as she comes out.

Dylan is rumored to be her first boyfriend, and he may have taken her virginity as well. Maybe Dylan taught her well how to make a man happy, and that’s what drove so many people insane for her.

To be fair, it isn’t obvious that many men used to fuck her. She’s taking good care of herself.

How tight is she? What would it be like if I were inside of her? Is she like the other women I’ve had sex with, or is she better?

Shit! When did I start thinking this way? When did my mind become so tainted that it can only think about sex? I’m not interested in sex. I can fuck where and when I want, whenever I want. In contrast to the three, who can’t spend a day without having sex.

But here I am, thinking only about sex because of this lady who is, in fact, my wife.

I grabbed a towel and entered the restroom. With these foolish thoughts, I’m going to take a bath. I just got out of the shower and headed outside. Maggie was sitting in bed outside when I arrived. She smiled at me while stretching her legs.

“Perfect,” she murmured as she examined my physique.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

“There’s more perfect than that,” I said as I removed the towel. When I noticed her eyes widening, I smiled and covered it again with a towel. “If you want it, you can have it. Just beg.”

“I see you have a large dick, huh. But nope, I won’t ask first,” she said before lying down and leaning against the headboard. Because she laid swiftly, her garments rose and I could plainly see she was wearing white panties, but I chose not to stare.

“I’m heading into the office, so can you serve me?” I said as I turned away to change.

“I’m useless, so don’t expect me to do helpful stuff.” I gave her a disapproving look, and she is now clutching her smartphone.

“So, what’s the point of this wedding? Why are you even here?”

“I’m not a maid to serve you.”

“What?”

“Don’t expect me to serve you simply because I’m your wife. Duh! I can’t serve myself, and you want me to serve you? What are you, lucky? Hire an assistant.”

When I finished getting ready, I turned to face her.

“Then return to your home.”

“Why? I won’t because I’m waiting for you to invite me to have sex.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I responded as I grabbed the telephone and car keys.

“Be careful,” she reminded me as I shut the door. Tss, I’m not sure what that woman was up to, and I’m even less sure why I’m participating.

I went to the kitchen to prepare coffee and was astonished to discover covered dishes. I open it one at a time, only to discover that these are foods.

Scrambled egg, bacon, and toasted bread I even noticed coffee was brewed in the coffee machine. I’m not sure why, but I couldn’t help but grin when I saw the meal. She got up early and prepared breakfast. So, did she get up earlier?

What the hell? Am I that condescending to her? Should I demand an apology?

No, this is what she desires. As a result, she must deal with me. She is the one who will adjust, not me.

I heard footsteps. Maggie was coming down the stairs when I looked up.

“Oh, you’re still there. I thought you went to work.” She was wearing a red dress and red stilettos. She also has a red bag on her shoulder.

“Did you make it?” I wondered.

“No, I just had that delivered,” she sarcastically said.

“Tss,” She wasn’t communicating effectively. I intend to thank her, but my thinking has changed.

“I’m leaving, obviously, but I’ll come home later to your place, and you know we’re going to have sex,” she said farewell.

“You don’t have to tell me where you’re going. We know what we are.”

“I’m just letting you know. After all, I still live here in your house, and I’m not that rude.” I looked at her because of what she said. “Why?” she responded.

“Nothing.”

“You’re not going to ask me where I’m going?”

“What’s the point?”

“If I’m kidnapped, you know what to tell the cops so you don’t become a suspect.”

“What?”

“Kidding,” she said, then burst out laughing. “Well, I know no one cares what I do or where I go because no one cares about me, but I’ll tell you anyway. I’m going to Paloma Resort. Ok, bye.”

“Wait!” I yelled, and she turned to face me.

“Why?”

“Are you not going to eat?”

“I’ve already eaten, and I’m not used to eating what I’ve already eaten. Don’t be shy, I made it for you.” She took a step back then turned to face me again. “I added no poison and enjoy eating, love,” she said as she walked away, and I found myself sitting in front of the food, smiling.


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