The Billionaire’s Bride: Our Vows Do Not Matter

Xavier rose to his feet, the lines of his body taut with control, as he wheeled Cathleen into their bedroom. As he stripped off his shirt, sharp light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, painting stripes across his bare chest. The swelling of his muscles made Cathleen’s breath catch, and her cheeks burned with a flush that belied her composure.

“Wha-what are you doing?” She stammered, her eyes wide and unguarded.

He shot her a look that was as sharp as a cut piece of glass. “What does it look like I’m doing?” His voice was a low growl, rumbling with impatience.

On the outside, Xavier had been the picture of a devoted husband and wife. On the inside, he was like a caged lion, with power simmering beneath every move he made. He disappeared into the walk-in closet and emerged in a pair of gray jogging pants and a vest that did little to hide his formidable physique.

Cathleen’s brow furrowed, and the furrows on her forehead were a sign of her concern. “You do know that we are not allowed to share a room, don’t you?”

Xavier paused, his hands raised to gesture. He turned to face her, his gaze piercing through her. “Do you have a better plan than this, Mrs. Knight?” He challenged her, his words tinged with menace. “Do you want them to know that you and I have not consummated our marriage? Or should I call Finn to do all this for you since he has seen you naked?”

Her mouth opened, ready for a retort sharp enough to draw blood, but then she remembered the steel confines of her wheelchair. Vulnerabilities clawed at the back of her throat, tears threatening. She blinked them back with an angry glare.

Xavier’s expression changed-a brief flicker of regret-before his mask slipped back into place. Without warning, he took a step forward, his hands reaching out for her. “I’m going to undress you. It’s time for your bath,” he said matter-of-factly.

The color in Cathleen’s cheeks deepened to a scarlet red, and any memory of his earlier barbs was forgotten. “Xavier, I can undress myself.”

Her protest was feeble, and they both knew it. He saw through her facade and understood that her pride was at stake. But he ignored her plea, his fingers working skillfully to remove the clothes from her body so that the distance between them was reduced to nothing.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

He carefully lifted her from the wheelchair. He carried her to the bathroom. The intimacy of the act was in stark contrast to the chill that lay between them. He gently placed her in the bathtub, where the water was waiting for her, still and quiet.

“Wash yourself where you can, and I’ll help you where you can’t,” he instructed, his voice devoid of any warmth as he walked out of the bathroom.

Cathleen sat stunned amid the rising steam, Xavier’s parting words echoing off the tiles, leaving her with a cold grip on her secrets and the haunting presence of betrayal.

Xavier’s return to the bathroom was swift, but the sight that greeted him halted his steps. Cathleen was slumbering in the tub, her breasts rising like a defiant peak above the lukewarm water of the bath. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a silent acknowledgment of the absurdity before him. But as his gaze lingered, a visceral reaction coursed through him-an image he couldn’t erase from his mind’s eye.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, a battle raging within. ‘Why the fuck am I lusting over this woman?’ The question clawed at his thoughts, insistent and unbidden.

He picked up a sponge with a hand that might as well have been encased in iron for its heaviness. Xavier had never done anything like this before, not even for Olivia, whose presence in his life now seemed distant and less tangible. What he was doing for Cathleen was alien to him-to care for another with such intimacy, especially for Cathleen-the sharp-tongued, unyielding Cathleen.

The movements he made were mechanical, thorough, and detached. With each stroke of the sponge, he washed away invisible lines in the sand he’d drawn long ago. When his hand brushed inadvertently against her leg and lifted it with a firm grip and had a view of her pussy, a hard swallow betrayed the discomfort he felt. There was a ripple in the water, and I was the only witness to this silent transgression. It’s a good thing she’s asleep,’ he thought, justification running through his mind like poison ivy.

Finished with the task he would later claim was necessary, Xavier retreated to the walk-in closet. He selected a towel with the precision that belied the turmoil beneath his composed exterior. When he returned to her side, he lifted her weight as if it were nothing more than air, and with meticulous care, he transferred her form to the bed. She was completely unaware of the storm that she had unwittingly stirred up.

The towel glided over her skin, a whisper of fabric-drying water droplets that clung like reluctant secrets. Cream followed, his hands more gentle than he knew they could be, painting her in invisible armor. Once dressed, she looked untouched by the night’s chaos, a lie in cotton and cream.

Finally, alone, the torrential cascade of the shower offered no comfort to Xavier. The hot water pelted his skin, merging with the flood of images of Cathleen that demanded to be felt. He tried to wash them away, but they clung to him like a stubborn stain. Every drop of water that hit the shower wall echoed his inner turmoil and determination. Fueled by anger, he fought the memories that flowed through his mind like a raging river.

‘I refuse to fall for a woman like Cathleen.’ The words echoed in Xavier Knight’s mind as he stood under the hot water, trying to wash away the thoughts and desires that threatened to consume him. His eyes were closed, but the images of Cathleen’s face, her breast, her pussy that looked like it hadn’t been touched, and her scent all haunted him even in this isolated place. The steam swirled around him like a thick cloak, enveloping him in its warmth. He felt entrapped by his own emotions, struggling against the pull of a woman he knew he shouldn’t fall for. But at this moment, with only the sound of rushing water and his own racing heart, he couldn’t deny the intense longing he felt for her. As he battled his internal demons, the memories of family, love, and betrayal taunted him from the corners of his mind, threatening to unravel him completely.