She really needed to paint the ceiling. It was looking like it had not seen a paintbrush in over three years, which it probably hadn’t. Addison Woodside stared at the same spot for the next ten minutes while her husband fucked her. There was no way she’d call what they did once a month love, or even liking. She didn’t like Shaun, not one bit. Her parents had demanded that she marry him, and had even gone to the extent of putting a guard on her until she did.
They had been married three years, and they only met up once a month in this ghastly house to have sex in order to have an heir. Not that they could have an heir. Before she even knew she was about to be married, she’d gotten the implant to stop her from conceiving. Her sister had been about to marry Shaun, and Addison had wanted to go out and live her own life. That had not happened, but she had already taken one of the precautions to not get pregnant. Addison had wanted to meet people, date, have sex, and do other stuff than become a wife.
Now, this was her house, but she never stayed in this place as she hated it. The house was so cold, and she had grown up in a cold house, and she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her adult life living in a place that left her empty. She had been married since twenty-one, and would be celebrating her twenty-fourth birthday in a couple of weeks.
In, out, in, out.
Shaun continued to have sex with her, and Addison just lay there. There was no emotion, no passion. His face was pressed against her neck, and she kept on counting the points in the ceiling.
Once a month after her period, she would travel to this house, they’d have sex, and then, she’d go back to
her life away from him. She imagined the women he was with when he wasn’t with her didn’t have this trouble. Sex, to her, was just boring. There was nothing to their union . It was a shame, as Shaun was a good looking man. He was the kind of man who was dark and brooding. His black hair always looked like it needed to be cut, but it gave him that sinful look, as did his dark eyes. She never knew what he was thinking.
They never talked, not really.
Addison never asked him about work, or what he did with his life. He didn’t know what she loved, or that she had a whole other life outside of their monthly meetings.
Shaun tensed, and growled, letting her know he was finished. Once he was done, there were no lingering touches or words of love. He pulled out of her, and walked toward the bathroom.
She refused to look toward him. Lying on the bed, she counted to ten before moving. Addison used a different bathroom from Shaun. She stared at her reflection in the mirror as his cum dripped down the inside of her thigh.
Three years they’d been married, and for three years they’d been coming to this house, to have sex. Shaun thought she lived here, she was sure of it. The first six months of her marriage, she had stayed in the house until she realized that he had a routine where he visited her. The moment she realized his routine, she had left, found a place of her own, and had a life outside of his.
Running fingers through her hair, she released a sigh. There was no sign on her body of having sex. She’d seen Darla after her friend had a night of passion. Darla’s body had red marks from stubble, little marks from lovemaking. What did she have? She had some of his cum dripping down
her leg, which would be washed away the moment she stepped into the shower.
Shaun only had sex with her to produce a kid. What he didn’t know was that prior to their marriage, she had gone on a form of contraception where a tube was placed into her arm. She was safe for another two months, their three year anniversary. Addison had wanted to tell him straight away, but he made it hard to approach him. He was so closed off, so reserved, and he never tried to make conversation with her.
Addison had been ordered to marry Shaun. She didn’t know him, and what she did know, she didn’t like. He was a workaholic billionaire. He commanded her family’s business as well as his own.
She’d also seen his picture in magazines with models and actresses on his arm. The first time she’d seen it, Addison had been hurt, not because she loved him, but because he’d made her feel like a fool. The moment she started to live her own life, she’d not cared. He had his life, she had hers, and the media had long stopped questioning their lack of appearances.
Stepping into the shower, she thought about what she had to do in the coming week. She had three shows to film, and two more recipes to try. Her agent wanted to work on signings for her book deal.
Everything was moving in her life, and she hoped she could keep up with it all. She may have come from a wealthy family who lived life in the media, but she didn’t like it. Addison had done everything in her life to avoid being in the media, yet her love had put her back in the media line.