Contract Marriage: I’ve Always Loved You

I sit at the bar counter with Jace and Mike, having my drink.

“Grace will be out of my life in a few days. I should be happy, but I don’t know why it’s hurting me.” I share with them what’s going on in my head.

Jace raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of his drink. “Steve, these things are never simple. You’ve spent a considerable amount of time with Grace, and feelings, whether you want them or not, tend to get messy.”

Mike adds, “And you can’t control how you feel, man. It’s okay to be conflicted.”

I swirl the drink in my glass, contemplating their words. “I just need to focus on getting through these last days of our contract without more complications.”

As I take a sip of my drink, I wonder if our paths will cross again after our contract ends. Despite the complications, there’s a part of me that’s reluctant to let her go.

Jace pats my shoulder, giving me a smile. “Whatever happens, Steve, we’ve got your back.”

***

I reach the club where I dropped Grace off a few hours ago. I have already texted her to come out.

As I see her conversing with a man outside the club, I feel a pang of envy. I approach them and my blood boils, listening to the words of that man.

“Grace, I can’t forget the night I spent with you. Would you like to spend one more night with me?”

Before she can answer him, I interrupt. “No, because she is my wife.” My voice is laced with possessiveness. I just can’t even imagine Grace with anybody else.

She glances at me, clearly surprised by my interruption. The man, taken aback, eyes me up and down suspiciously.

“Steve, don’t create unnecessary drama. I can handle this myself.” She responds, her tone firm.

The man smirks. “Your wife? Well, she doesn’t seem interested in you, so why don’t you mind your own business?”

I step closer to the man, clenching my fists, trying to keep my composure. “Back off. She’s off-limits.”

The man raises his hands in mock surrender and walks away, leaving us alone.

Grace crosses her arms, frustration visible in her eyes. “What was that all about, Steve?”

I grab her arms and yank her closer to me. “Grace, you’re still my wife. So stay within your limits.”

Before our marriage, she had been with many men, and after our divorce, the thought of her being with others frustrates me immensely.

“Steve, stop behaving like a possessive husband. I was going to deny him.” She tries to come out of my firm grip.

Despite her attempt to break free, I maintain a firm grip on her arms, frustration and possessiveness boiling within me. “Grace, I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else. You’re still my wife.”

She glares at me. “Steve, we’re getting divorced. You can’t control who I talk to or what I do.”

The intensity of my feelings overwhelms me, and without thinking, I pull her even closer. “I can’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else, Grace. Only I can touch you until you’re officially not my wife anymore.”

“Your possessiveness is suffocating, Steve. Let’s just get through these last days and move on with our lives.” She insists, constantly trying to break free from my hold.

I take a deep breath to compose myself before moving away from her.

Then we head towards the car, my mind racing with possessive thoughts.

The drive back home is filled with silence. I just can’t shake off the image of her talking to that man, possessiveness and jealousy are driving me insane.

We enter the room.

Overwhelmed by my emotions, I couldn’t resist the urge and pressed her against the wall by grabbing her arms.

“Steve, what are you-” I lean in, silencing her with a passionate kiss, driven by an intense desire to assert my claim.

As our lips lock, my hands roam all over her body, desperate to prove that she belongs to me. She responds with equal fervour, surrendering to me.

I turn her around and now pin her front body against the wall before raising her dress.

Her moans echo through the room as I fondle and spank her buttocks. “You’re my wife, Grace. No man can touch you.”

I can’t recognise myself. It seems like alcohol and possessiveness have consumed me.

With a swift motion, I rip off her undies and pull down my jeans before jabbing into her, grasping her hands behind her back.

“Only I can fuck you until you’re living in this house, Grace.” I give her a hard thrust, causing her to moan louder. “Understand?” I ask, pulling out of her to thrust again with full force.

“Yes… just don’t stop, Steve…” she screams, and I continue to ram into her, spanking her and yanking her hair aggressively.

I fuck her with fervour in every corner of the room in every position. However, I don’t feel better because no matter what I say or do, the truth won’t change that she doesn’t belong to me.

She lies on the edges of the bed, her legs resting on my shoulder as I fuck her roughly, clenching her ankles. She moans, clutching the mattress, her eyes squeezed shut.

***

Next morning,

I wake up, and as I notice Grace lying in my arms, the echoes of our intense night replay in my mind. Regret and guilt hit me like a wave.

Fuck! How could I lose control like that? I can’t believe I let my possessiveness and frustration do this.

After carefully disentangling myself from her, I get out of bed and head to the bathroom.

As I splash water on my face, I confront the reality of our situation. Grace is not mine to possess, and our contract marriage is reaching its end. I need to get a grip on my emotions. It’s not right to lose control of myself like this.

I step out of the bathroom, and as I glance at Grace, still peacefully asleep, I feel a pang of guilt for venting my frustration over her.

I come to the balcony to take some fresh air and stand grasping the railing, my eyes closed.

After a few minutes, Grace enters the balcony, looking dishevelled but composed.

As she stands beside me, leaning against the railing, I break the silence, “Grace, I’m sorry for the last night.”

“Sorry for what, Steve? Because you were wild and aggressive last night, huh?”

I just nod in response, keeping my eyes down, embarrassed by my last night’s actions.

“What if I say enjoyed the last night?” As she enquires, my eyes raise at her in shock.

“What do you mean, you enjoyed it?” I ask, taken aback by her unexpected response.

She smirks with a hint of mischief in her eyes. “I mean, I liked the wild and possessive side of Steve Grey. It’s not something I expected, but it was certainly different.”

I’m left speechless, staring at her in disbelief. Did she really find my loss of control tempting?

“You’re crazy, Grace.” I shake my head in incredulity, and she chuckles.

I return to the room, still shocked that she liked my possessive side.