The CEO Uncle's Little Sweet Wife

"Emily Johnson, move a bit more naturally. Yeah, just like that, hold it."

Emily stood in the hallway, wearing an ivory bridesmaid dress, adjusting her posture as the photographer directed. The delicate lace on her dress swayed gently with her movements.

She was helping out her best friend from the student council, who had roped her into playing the role of a bride for a photoshoot.

Just as Emily found the right angle, the door behind her burst open.

Before she could turn around, a strong, unyielding grip seized her wrist. In a whirlwind, she was lifted and slung over someone's shoulder.

"Not bad," a deep, lazy voice rumbled above her. "You knew I didn't have the patience for those women today, so you prepared a bride to tempt me."

Emily was stunned. She struggled to lift her head and saw James Smith's sharp jawline and the wicked curve of his lips.

"Who are you? Let me go!" Emily struggled to get down from James's shoulder.

James ignored her, striding confidently into the suite at the end of the hallway.

As the door slammed shut behind them, Emily was thrown onto the large bed.

She scrambled to sit up and finally got a good look at the man before her.

James's tanned skin had a cool sheen, his short hair was neat, and his deep eyes were like dark pools, drawing her in.

James unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, revealing his defined collarbone. His eyes, dark and intense, burned with a predatory heat.

The desire in James's gaze made Emily panic.

Olivia Smith had said the sponsor was a balding man in his fifties, a sleazy middle-aged guy she should avoid.

But this man, with his movie-star looks and physique, was nothing like that description.

And this wasn't part of the plan.

What was going on?

"You..." Emily began to ask who he was, but James was already leaning down, his overpowering scent enveloping her.

James's kiss was forceful and demanding, silencing her protests.

The sound of tearing fabric filled the room as he pulled at her dress. Emily's heart pounded, and she tried to push him away, but her strength was no match for his. Her dress was soon in tatters.

Ignoring her cries and struggles, James forced her legs apart and thrust into her.

The pain was excruciating, and tears streamed down Emily's face. She pounded on James's shoulders, but her resistance only seemed to excite him more.

Their naked bodies intertwined, reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows.

James's eyes were fixed on her bouncing breasts, his movements relentless, each thrust deeper than the last.

Unsatisfied with the position, James flipped Emily over, making her kneel on the bed as he entered her from behind.

Emily's vagina was filled completely, and with each thrust, more vaginal discharge was produced. Her moans and James's heavy breathing filled the room.

As she climaxed, her vaginal muscles contracted, gripping his penis tightly. The intense sensation made James quicken his pace, thrusting harder until he finally released his semen.

Emily lost track of time, only knowing they both collapsed from exhaustion.

When she finally woke, the room was dim, the air heavy with the aftermath of their passion.

She moved slightly, feeling sore all over, especially the discomfort in her vagina bringing tears to her eyes.

Looking down, Emily gasped.

The bridesmaid dress was shredded, lying in pieces on the floor, diamonds and pearls scattered everywhere.

This high-end dress was something Olivia had rented at a steep price. How was she going to pay for it now?

Anger surged through her as she turned to the still-sleeping James.

He looked peaceful, the earlier aggression gone, lying there like a statue.

But Emily hadn't forgotten how roughly he had treated her.

"Wake up!"

James slowly opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the kiss marks on Emily's body, a smirk playing on his lips. "What, not satisfied? Want to go again?"

Emily's face flushed with anger. She pointed at the ruined dress on the floor. "Look at what you did! That dress cost twenty thousand dollars. You have to pay for it!"

James glanced at the shredded dress, then leisurely sat up, pulling out his wallet from his jacket. He handed her some cash.

A few hundred-dollar bills and some change, totaling no more than five hundred dollars.

Emily's hands shook with rage. "Are you kidding me? That dress cost twenty thousand dollars!"

James looked at her flushed face, his tone teasing. "The dress is twenty thousand, and judging by your reaction, it was your first time? Let's add another ten thousand for that. Thirty thousand in total."

He paused, his eyes playful. "I don't have that much cash on me. How about I repay you with my body?"

As he spoke, James moved as if to pin her down again.

Emily's body, despite everything, had left an impression on him.

Last night, after being drugged at a party, he had expected his assistant, Michael Johnson, to find him a random woman. But he hadn't anticipated being so captivated by her.

"You bastard!" Emily was trembling with fury, grabbing the money and throwing it at his face.

Her eyes fell on James's wallet on the nightstand.

She snatched it, pulling out all the credit and debit cards, stuffing them into her pocket.

James watched her swift actions with amusement, not stopping her, just observing with interest.

Emily draped his jacket over herself, then pulled out two crumpled one-dollar bills from the wallet, slapping them onto James's chest.

"That's for your bus fare," she spat, glaring at him with disdain. "Your jacket and cards will cover the rest of the debt!"

With that, Emily grabbed the shredded remains of her dress and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

James rubbed the two one-dollar bills, that wicked smile returning. This woman was certainly interesting.

He wondered where Michael had found such an intriguing person.

His phone rang urgently, and James answered.

"Mr. Smith, where are you?" Michael's anxious voice came through.