Marriage of Convenience — Amy Faye

I just want you.
Her tongue swirled around him, drawing away his entire concentration. By the time he regained control of himself he was trying to force himself deeper into her throat. He pulled his hand away and she pulled herself off and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You like that?"

He wanted to be a politician, and that meant getting married. It didn't matter to him who he married. As long as she was presentable.

Well, I'd hardly call my messed up life presentable.

I just needed a way to keep my twins fed and warm, and away from their scumbag father.

He made me an offer I literally couldn't refuse. It helped that I wanted to be touched, stroked, pleasured by him in every way possible.

A marriage agreement. We get married, we both benefit. It was smart. It was clean. And it was all going great, until our feelings started making the situation messy. Really messy.