The Billionaire's Contract Bride

The Board Meeting

“Don’t squirm.”

Damian’s voice was low. Only for me.

We were at a 20-foot mahogany table. 12 board members staring at him. None of them knew his hand was under the table.

On my thigh.

High.

Rule 1: No touching.

I sat straighter and smiled like the perfect Mrs. Black. “I’m not squirming.”

“Liar.” His thumb drew slow circles on my skin. Through the silk of my dress. “Your heart rate is up. I can hear it.”

Heat crawled up my neck.

The board member at the end cleared his throat. “Mr. Black, about the merger with Vance Corp—”

“Approved.” Damian didn’t look away from me. His grey eyes promised punishment. “As long as my wife agrees.”

All eyes turned to me.

“Ava?” Damian squeezed my thigh. A warning. “What do you think?”

I swallowed. “I… think it’s a good deal.”

“Good girl.” His hand slid higher.

I gripped the edge of the table. My knuckles went white.

Then the doors opened.

Isabella.

In a red power suit. Like she owned the room.

“Sorry I’m late, Damian.” She didn’t even glance at me. “Vance Corp asked me to present their side.”

Damian’s hand stilled on my leg. His jaw ticked.

“You weren’t invited, Isabella.”

“I know.” She smiled sweetly and took the empty seat. Right across from me. “But I thought Mrs. Black might want to see how real business is done.”

Real business. Not contract wife business.

Damian’s hand moved. From my thigh to my knee. Then higher. Slow. Deliberate.

For her to see.

Isabella’s eyes dropped. Saw. Narrowed.

Damian leaned back in his chair like he owned the world. Because he did. “Continue, Ms. Vance.”

She started her presentation. But her eyes kept flicking to my lap. To his hand.

I wanted to slap it away. Wanted to scream.

Rule 1. Rule 2. Rule 3: Obey him.

I obeyed.

I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just sat there while Damian’s fingers played me like a piano under the table.

After 10 minutes, I couldn’t take it.

I stood abruptly. Chair screeching.

“Excuse me,” I whispered. “Restroom.”

I barely made it out before my legs gave out.

In the restroom, I splashed cold water on my face.

The door opened behind me.

I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

His cologne. Cedar. Smoke. Control.

Damian.

He locked the door. The click echoed.

“You left early,” he said. Hands in his pockets now. Innocent. Like he hadn’t just tortured me for 10 minutes.

“I couldn’t breathe in there.”

“Because of me?” He moved closer. Caged me against the sink.

“Because of your hand.” I turned to face him. Anger hotter than desire. “You promised Rule 1—”

“I promised no touching in private.” His mouth curved. “This is a board meeting. Very public.”

“That’s not—”

His hand shot out and gripped my waist. Lifted me onto the cold marble counter.

I gasped. “Damian—”

“You looked at her too long,” he murmured. Nose brushing my neck. Inhaling me. “When she said ‘real business’. I didn’t like it.”

My hands pushed at his chest. Weak. “I wasn’t—”

“You were.” He pulled back just enough to see my face. “You were jealous. Admit it.”

“I don’t do jealousy,” I mocked his words from last night.

“No?” His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “Then why are your pupils blown and your heart racing?”

Rule 2: No feelings.

But my body was betraying me.

Footsteps outside. Voices.

The board members. Coming back.

Damian’s eyes flashed. He stepped back instantly. Straightened his tie. Looked like the perfect CEO again.

“Compose yourself, wife,” he said softly. “They’ll be back in 30 seconds.”

I jumped off the counter. Smoothed my dress. Hands shaking.

The door unlocked just as someone knocked.

“Mr. Black? We’re ready.”

Damian opened it. “Of course.” He turned to me. Handed me a tissue. “You had lipstick on your teeth.”

Lie. I wasn’t wearing lipstick.

The board member looked between us. Saw my flushed cheeks. My messy hair.

Damian’s arm went around my waist. “She’s just nervous. First board meeting as Mrs. Black.”

He said it like a claim. Like a warning.

Back at the table, Isabella watched us. Her smile was gone.

Damian’s hand found my thigh again. Under the table. Where no one could see.

He leaned in. Lips at my ear.

“Rule 6,” he whispered. So only I could hear.

I closed my eyes.

“If you ever run from me again when I’m punishing you… I’ll chase you. And I won’t be gentle next time.”

His fingers tightened.

Punishing me.

For what? For breathing? For being his?

The meeting ended an hour later.

In the car, I finally snapped.

“Stop touching me!” I shoved his hand off my leg.

He caught my wrist. Twisted it gently. Pulled me across the seat until I was in his lap.

“Stop touching me?” His grey eyes were molten. “You’re my wife, Ava. I’ll touch you whenever I want. Wherever I want.”

“Not in public—”

“Especially in public.” He brushed my hair back. “So everyone knows who you belong to.”

I stopped fighting. Because what was the point?

His thumb traced my pulse at my wrist. Slow. Possessive.

“You’re mine for 6 months,” he said quietly. “But I’m starting to think 6 months won’t be enough.”

My heart stopped.

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Rule 2.”

“Rules are made to be broken, Ava.” He lowered his mouth to my ear. “And you… you’re breaking all of mine.”

The car stopped at Black Tower.

He didn’t let go.

“Upstairs,” he murmured. “Now.”

And I followed.

Because Rule 3: Obey him.

And because I wanted to.

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