The Wife He Put Last (Billionaire's Grovel Chronicles #1)

Prologue

Twenty-one years ago

I lean back against the pillows, laughter bubbling past my lips as I watch Chris from across the bedroom.

He stands by the vanity, his silk nightrobe loosely tied, leaving the broad expanse of his chest bare.

With an exaggerated, slow-motion swagger, he picks up the bottle, playing up a mock striptease that keeps me giggling.

He fills a glass with Cabernet Sauvignon, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as his gaze locks onto mine.

He saunters toward the bed, holding my full glass steady. My own robe has already parted slightly, exposing a curve of thigh against the sheets. Oh, to be young and married, I think to myself.

The distance between us shrinks. He steps between my knees, his grin widening as he leans down to hand me the wine. He sets the bottle and his own empty glass onto the nightstand, his focus shifting to my exposed skin.

His palm slides onto my leg, his thumb pushing the silk robe further aside to bare my flesh. When he looks up, the playfulness vanishes, replaced by a hooded, intense focus.

Chris drops to his knees on the mattress. He leans down, pressing a warm kiss to the arch of my foot.

"Zoe," he mutters, his voice rough.

He trails a line of slow, deliberate kisses upward, moving over my ankle and pressing against my calf, sending a sharp shiver straight up my spine.

He stops just below my thigh, his hand moves to cup the side of my neck, his thumb anchoring over my pulse.

Kneeling fully between my legs, he leans in until his forehead rests against mine.

"Thank you for saying yes," he whispers, his breath warm against my lips. "I promise to always make it worth your time. Baby, you’ll always come first."