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The Billionaire’s Trial Wife

(Warning, rated 18, No Rape)    Harley is a twenty-two year old unwanted daughter of a millionaire businessman, nothing short of a troublemaker to get back at her cruel father. When a risky contract arises between her father and the Billionaire Sylus Jones, she is forced into a trial marriage with Sylus—a man who is both an enemy and, strangely, a charm.   A kind of dislike, hatred, and the need to destroy each other while aware the contract is on the line burns between these two. However, provoking a man like Sylus is probably not the best idea…or the safest. But then again, Harley Legan Eun-kyung has never been good at playing it safe. Things begin to get a lot more complicated when this marriage is unfortunately made public against their initial agreement and plans. Can these two keep in mind that this marriage is nothing short of a facade that will end in two months?  Probably not. But how will they survive this trial marriage when there's nothing to like about each other? When all they do is bicker and fight, hating everything about each other? How will they learn to live with each other? And how will they learn to deal with the burning desire—the flickering need, that had ignited between the two of them, one that proved hard to overlook?  Each is what the other desires. But each is also what the other hates. 

AngelLily · 都市
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140 Chs

HARLEY: (R18!)

My breath hitched as Sylus sucked a deep hickey into my skin, his grip on my waist growing tighter. 

"I asked a question," he growled the words into my mouth.

"Wha—what was the quest—question?" 

Sylus wrapped his hand around my throat, driving me insane. "Do you want me to stop?" 

I shook my head. "N-no." 

"What do you want me to do to you?" 

I shivered against him. "Fuck…me."  

"I didn't hear you, Harley," he said into my ear, his tone menacing. "Be more clear."  

"Go to hell!" I yanked his hair so hard, his forehead twitched in pain. "You know what I fucking want. Please, just stop teasing me and…fuck me." 

Sylus grunted needily at my panting words, fingers squeezing my waist a tiny bit tighter. "You can do better than that, dimples. Beg for it, and I'll give you what you need. I need the words, I need to hear you beg." 

"Please…" I managed. It almost physically hurt. 

"Please what, Harley?"