By His Vow: A Billionaire Arranged Marriage Romance

I stand back and just watch as she throws the door open and looks inside my apartment.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

Our apartment.

Our home.

My heart thunders in my chest as the enormity of this makes my hands tremble at my sides.

I’ve never had a woman here for more than one night.

Sure, some have wanted a longer visit, but it’s never been in the cards for me. And plus, no one has ever held my interest long enough for me to even consider an extended stay. We have our fun, but once we’ve both got what we needed, I’m over it.

But watching Tatum walk into the entryway feels entirely different from anyone else who’s ever stepped foot in my space.

She moves deeper into the apartment and I’m powerless but to follow her.

Her eyes are everywhere as she slowly moves toward the living room.

She lingers on an abstract painting I bought at an auction in New York a few years ago, but while I sense her questions, she doesn’t speak a word.

She walks into the living room, but despite the changes that have taken place here today, I can’t take my eyes off her to look.

She gasps in surprise before walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I get it. I’ve hands down got the best view in the city, but honestly, what’s outside has nothing on what I’m looking at.

Her black jacket fits her like a second skin. It nips her in at the waist before flaring out to accentuate her hips and ass that’s wrapped in a form-fitting pencil skirt. It hits just above her knees, showing off her shapely calves and then her hot-as-hell black shoes.

I make my way back up and focus on the curtain of thick, dark hair that falls around her shoulders.

I love it. The thought of wrapping the length of it around my fist and⁠—

I scrub my chin, wishing I could see her face, her reaction.

“Tatum?” I finally say, unable to stand the silence any longer.

Her shoulders rise as she sucks in a deep breath before spinning around and giving me what I need.

She looks exhausted. Today has taken a toll on her. It’s why I needed to get her out of there when I did.

One more glass of champagne and she’d have lost the tight control she had on herself.

I could feel it slipping, and all I could think about doing was getting her somewhere safe, somewhere she could embrace whatever she’s feeling.

Grief. Relief. Fear.

I know I’m feeling a little bit of each; I can only imagine the wide range of emotions that are warring inside her right now.

She licks her lips before doing another sweep of the room. I follow her lead and do a double take.

It’s my apartment, only it’s not how I left it.

I spoke to Melissa, my assistant, last night, asking her to find someone to help me out. My apartment was exactly what it needed to be. A bachelor pad. It suited me. All clean lines and empty surfaces.

I don’t spend all that much time here, and when I do, I want it uncluttered and stress-free. But with Tatum moving in imminently, I needed to make some changes.

She’s going to be forced to live here with me for a year. The least I can do is try to make it comfortable for her.

I’ve seen her apartment. Hell, the place gives me nightmares. But it’s also told me a lot about how she likes to live her life.

My dark gray couch now has a blanket artfully draped over the back. A pink blanket. There are also a handful of cushions scattered over it.

I shake my head and rub the back of my neck.

Who knew agreeing to an arranged marriage included the addition of fucking cushions to my life?

There’s a vase of matching pink roses on the coffee table and when I look up, I find another huge bouquet in the middle of the dining table and more in the kitchen.

“This is⁠—”

“Yeah,” I agree, still rubbing the back of my neck. “Welcome home.”

“You did this. For me?” she asks, turning to face me.

I shrug one shoulder, somewhere between embarrassed and confused by the changes.

Reaching out, I take her hand before gently pulling her toward the stairs. There are two guest bedrooms on this floor, but I have zero intention of letting her stay in one.

If she’s here in my apartment, then she’s in my bedroom as well.

“So, this is where all the magic happens,” she deadpans as I take in the colossal new bed in the middle of the room. Just like downstairs, it’s much softer than its black metal-framed predecessor. The heavy oak is warm and homely, and the new bright white sheets really set it off.

“Tatum,” I warn.

“There’s really no need to try and cover up the kind of life you live, Kingston. I’m more than aware of how many women have rolled around in that.” She jerks her chin toward the bed.

“Is that right?” I mutter, walking around her and pulling my tie free.

“You’re a player,” she states. “If you’re not figuring out how to take over the world at work, then you’re fucking your way through fifty percent of the population.”

My brows rise.

“Says the virgin.”

Amusingly, she has the decency to blush a little. It’s cute.

“Never said I was an angel. But I also haven’t stood you in front of my bed like I expect you to sleep in it after…” She trails off, deciding against whatever she was going to say next.

I shrug off my jacket before unbuttoning my shirt and dropping it into the laundry.

She’s still standing motionless, staring at the bed as I walk up behind her.

She gasps the second I press my body up against her back, and then she shudders as I dip my lips to her ear. Just like she did at her parents’ house before we left.

My cock swells, remembering just how needy she was. Her body was screaming at me to take her, to give her the escape from life she so desperately craved while stuck in that situation.

I release a breath, letting it rush over her skin, loving the way she shudders again.

“No one has slept in that bed, baby. Not a single person,” I confess, my voice deep with my need to test it out.

“W-what?”

“It’s new, Tatum. It’s ours.”

A laugh of disbelief erupts from her throat.

“You seriously think that⁠—”

I spin her around, cutting off her question.

But while I stare down at her, desperate to see into her eyes, to understand what she’s thinking, she keeps her gaze locked on my bare chest.

“Eyes, Tatum,” I demand.

She swallows thickly but doesn’t do as she’s told.

I don’t know why I’m surprised.

This is Tatum Warner, after all.

Reaching out, I tuck my fingers under her jaw and force her head up so she has no choice but to look into my eyes.

“Do you always have to be such a brat?” I ask darkly.

One corner of her lip twitches in a smirk.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed, Kingston. I’ll wear your ring, take your name, and keep up this farce, but that’s where this arrangement ends.”

My own smirk grows at her blatant lie.

“I think we both know that’s not how this is going to go,” I tell her, dipping my head until our noses are almost touching.

Her breath rushes over my face and her blue eyes darken even further.

My grip on her hip tightens and I pin us as close as possible, letting her feel every inch of what she’s doing to me.

“You don’t need me. You can have any of your harem keep you satisfied over the coming year,” she sneers, jealousy dripping from every word.

“But what about you?” I ask, neither confirming nor denying that I’ll be doing what she suggests.

“What about me? I’ve got a perfectly good vibrator that’ll do the job when the need hits.”

“Wow.” I laugh. “You must have been with some really shitty guys if you truly think a vibrator will satisfy you well enough.”

Her eyes narrow and her lips press into a thin line.

“I think you’ve been missing out, baby,” I say, dipping lower as if I’m about to prove my point with my actions as well as my words.

Her mouth pops open in preparation, but at the last minute, I release her and step back.

“Come and check out the closet. I have some things in there for you.”

I take off, pulling the doors to my closet and giving it a double take.

One side has always been empty. But that is no longer the case.

I haven’t bought her much, just a few things I thought she might like or need.

I sense her step up behind me before I see or hear her.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she says, ducking around me to see the rails and shelves of clothes, shoes, and purses.

“There’s lingerie in those drawers, too.”

Okay, I lied. I may have gone a little over the top with my personal shopper.

“Kingston.” She gasps after pulling the top drawer open to reveal lingerie sets in every color of the rainbow. “I don’t need or want any of this stuff.”

“And yet it’s yours,” I state simply as I undo my pants and shamelessly push them over my hips then tug them and my socks off.

“I have every intention of seeing you wrapped in every inch of lace in those drawers in the coming months,” I confess as I walk toward my own side and grab a pair of gray sweats. That’s the magic ingredient when it comes to women, after all, right?

Her gaze makes my skin burn and I turn back toward her, shamelessly letting her see the goods. I might still be wearing my boxers, but quite honestly, they’re doing a pretty shitty job of hiding anything right now.

She takes her time working her way down my chest, and the second her eyes drop to my dick, I swear the electric current that races through me should be powerful enough to take me out.

How did she do that?

There are feet between us. Yet with just her presence and her eyes, she has the ability to affect me more than any other woman I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with.

“Well, you can keep dreaming about that,” she mutters, her eyes still blatantly on my hard cock.

I smirk. The words that are coming out of her mouth are such bullshit. Her body…now that tells the truth. And it’s screaming at me that it wants the same thing I do.

Finally, I bend over and pull my sweats up my legs. Putting on clothes isn’t in line with the fantasy in my head, but it’s the right thing to do.

I want her. I’ll make no secret of that.

I’m pretty sure I could have her, too.

But not today. Not while she’s suffering and feeling vulnerable.

Well…not unless she begs.

I swear she stops breathing as I step closer to her.

“Get comfortable. You’ll find toiletries in the bathroom. Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?” she whispers, staring up at me like I might hold all the answers.

“Then I’ll come and find you. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Leaning forward, I finally give her the kiss I teased her with earlier, although it’s nothing like the filthy, desperate type that was filling my mind. Instead, it’s a chaste one to the corner of her mouth.

Even still, her lashes flutter closed and she lets out this little whimper that makes my chest tighten and my heart thump harder.

“Relax, Tatum. This is your home now. With me.”

I take off without another word, leaving her, no doubt, with her head spinning and her heart pounding.

Fuck. I know mine are.

There is only one thing I know for certain right now.

These next twelve months are either going to be the very best or the very worst of my life. Only time will tell which way it’s going to go.