Breeding My Husband's Bride: Ruined On Our Wedding Night

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g city skyline. The room smelled of white roses, vanilla candles, and money-old, cold money. Her long, wavy dark hair cascaded over one shoulder in perfect, gloss

g to her full breasts, nipped in at her tiny waist, and flared over her curvaceou

trembling with a dif

hand lightly over her lower bel

lothes. Food stamps. A single mother who worked two jobs just to keep the lights on. Liora had always been the quiet, beautiful gi

er life at the annual Voss Found

as

all, aristocratic, with sharp cheekbones and an aura of effortless power. He hadn't looked at her like the oth

ces she had only seen in magazines. When he proposed on the deck of his yacht, sliding a diamond

lo

pass

had said y

or her mother's failing health. And because she had hoped-naively, desperately-that behind Sil

repressed desire simmered beneath her shy, refined surface. She had spent countless nights touching herself in silence, biting h

would final

k sounded a

ale? It

the mirror. The innocent bride stared b

er reflection, voi

make me fee

er husband would not be th