Page 74 of Forever Fake

Damn right you are.“And who am I to you?”

“M-my husband.” She groans. “I’m so close.”

“Beg me for it, magpie. You know I love to hear you beg.”

“Please, please make me come… husband.”

Fucking hell. She’ll be my ruin, that’s for sure.

I adjust my angle, hitting her g-spot just right and she shatters, taking me with her as her pussy milks my cock.

Pulling out, I empty myself on her stomach and tits. She jolts at the unexpected warmth of cum coating her body. Before it dries, I write in it with my finger, spelling out: Mrs. Baron. If I could, I’d have that tattooed into her flesh. Now that I think about it, that is a possibility. Dimitri tattooed his name on his wife, so…

If only our time together didn’t come to an end in a year. But after that, her contract is fulfilled. She has no reason not to sign the divorce papers and run as far from me as possible. Any woman in her right mind would do just that. I’m hardly husband material.

If there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I’m not lovable. Not in the slightest.

So, we’ll live out this fantasy until we either ruin it or our time together comes to an end.

The property acquisition is almost a done deal. So much so that Yve has taken a step back and seems to be relatively content. By that I mean she didn’t try to sabotage my wedding, or interrupt our short honeymoon while we’ve been in London. I’m not sure if negotiating the contract has been keeping her busy, or if there’s another reason she’s not her usual, vile self.

Either way, hopefully the sale will go through by the time we’re back in New York and Liam will take his place within the company. All is looking up on that front.

Which brings my attention back to Gin. If she’s hiding her connection to Oz, what else is she untruthful about? Have I misjudged her after all these months together? Or is she really that talented of an actress to show me a complete façade that I unwittingly fell for?

Maybe she really is the gold-digger I thought she was in the beginning. Her past trauma, her sweetness, the way she looks at me like I can save her from her demons, is any of it real?

The way her presence is a ray of sunshine in my world of darkness… is it all a lie? A carefully crafted story to get under my skin? Perhaps.

Two can play at this game though. I aim to tear apart my new wife until I can decipher reality from fiction. I need to understand her motivations. I’m going to figure out who she truly is. Starting now.

She comes out of the bathroom, cheeks flushed and hair wrapped in a towel. My heart stops for a moment. She’s so fucking beautiful. Too bad she’s a liar.

“I have something for you, magpie.” I set the small, matte black box on the table. Her gaze lands on it and lights with excitement. I hate how much that brightness in her eyes warms my chest.

“For me? What is it?” She approaches and I reach out, snare her, and reel her into my lap. Even though she’s lied to me, I want to feel her body against mine.

“Open it and find out.” I can’t resist licking up a droplet of water on her neck. Her soft moan goes straight to my cock and I’m hard for her in an instant. Maybe the sex is what’s clouding my judgement. She’s a siren and I’ve fallen victim to her sweet, deadly song.

She lifts the box into her small hands and removes the top. A sharp gasp falls from her parted lips as she picks up the thick black credit card. There’s nothing on it except her new name stamped on the back. Ginevra Baron.

“This is…” My wife is speechless for once.

“Without a limit,” I tell her.

“But we signed papers, a prenup to make sure I don’t get a single penny from you. Why would you give me a limitless card?” She frowns up at me, and I smooth away the crease between her golden brows with my thumb.

“Because while we’re divorcing in twelve months’ time, right now you’re my wife and you deserve to be treated as such, with all the perks included.” What I’m not telling her is that this is a test. If she’s a gold-digger she won’t be able to resist the urge to spend as much as she can as quickly as possible.

Take me for all I’m worth, little magpie, and prove to me that I’m right about the worst version of you. As much as that pains me, I must know the truth.

“Oh,” she says, her features caving, which is not the reaction I expected.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. This is very generous of you.” She slides off my lap, taking the card with her, and continues getting dressed before packing up. By tonight we’ll be back home.

CHAPTER 33

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