Substitutee Marriage: Fallingg For My Ugly Wifee

“We have a meeting in half an hour. We'll leave after it concludes.”
Millie was taken aback. Despite his high fever, he insisted on conducting a
meeting.
After Millie concluded her tidying, Marcus caught her wrist with his ivory fingers,
imploring, “I have a throbbing headache. Could you give me a head massage?”
He recalled that Millie had massaged his head before. Her touch was soothing,
easing his discomfort.
“Of course.” Millie agreed.
Marcus gently pulled her into his embrace.
“Could you sit on me while you massage?”
Though it struck Millie as peculiar, she complied, slipping from his arms. Her lithe
fingers threaded through his abundant hair, one index finger applying pressure to
his head. She massaged it gently, employing a circular motion.
Under Millie's touch, a surge of warmth cascaded to Marcus’ forehead, alleviating
some of his discomfort. He even found himself thinking that enduring the fever
was a small price to pay.
During his illness, he found solace in cradling the person he held dear, savoring
the delicate scent of her being, and relishing her tender ministrations. It was an
exquisite sense of comfort.
Millie's fingers worked like magic, soothing him into a state of comfort. It occurred
to him that he wouldn't mind her massaging him like this more often in the future.
Shifting ever so slightly, Marcus inadvertently brushed against her soft breast.
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The fleeting pang elicited a pause in Millie’s ministrations, her cheeks tinged with
a delicate flush. She pressed her lips together, striving to combat the
embarrassment.
“Feeling better?”
The gentle contact electrified Marcus, setting his senses ablaze. He couldn't
resist burying his head into the curve of Millie's neck, his touch caressing her skin
as his voice turned huskier.
“Yes, much better, At the moment, all I yearn for is to lavish my affections upon
my sweetheart.”
Drawing closer, he leaned into her, prompting her to shoulder a portion of his
weight. Millie swallowed, a heat creeping onto her cheeks. What had he said?
Her mind raced, but before she could decipher it all, Marcus’ hand began to
caress her waist, the fabric of her garment inching higher.
Millie swatted his hand away firmly. They were, after all, in the office, and Marcus
was in the throes of fever.
“Are you trying to make your husband sicker?"
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Marcus withdrew his reddened hand,
his voice carrying aplgitive torié as
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“I feel safer holding onto you.”
Marcus persisted, his grip on Millie's waist tightening.
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With a slight sigh, Millie relented,
allowing him to Aes her @sishe
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