Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I’d feel betrayed.
Betrayal.
No other word for it.
Infidelity—no. Unfaithfulness—not enough.
Thinking of her perspective with this newfound clarity, nothing hits quite as accurately as betrayal.
I betrayed my wife.
I betrayed her trust.
I betrayed everything she called her safe haven.
Now, I know I must do everything in my power to fix what I’ve ruined, because neither one of us will be able to get past this without something profound happening.
I’ll always feel like a fuck-up if she doesn’t make me atone in some way. I’ll never be able to go back to being the Dom she needs me to be if I’m in a perpetual state of desperation, hoping she’ll someday forgive me and trust me again.
And it’s with this revelation that I decide to open up even more about my dark desire, even though my intentions have steered in another direction.
While, yes, watching Savannah with another man would be the most mesmerizing thing I’d ever be able to witness, it’s more than just a fantasy now. It’s more than just a sexual experience I’d like to have in my lifetime. Now, I think it may be the only thing that could possibly get us back to being… us.
CHAPTER FOUR
SAVANNAH
“I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” Roman rumbles into my lap, and I’m so stunned by this raw showing of emotion that I’ve been frozen in place since the moment he dropped to his knees before me.
When the first sob shook his entire body, the only thing that moved were my eyelids, widening in pure shock. Never have I seen my husband brought to tears of anguish. Only once have I seen him brought to tears at all, and they were happy ones, his entire aura filled with pure joy as my dad walked me down the aisle to give him my hand in marriage.
I don’t know how to handle this. It’s not something I’ve ever thought to prepare for. I’ve never asked myself “What would you do if your super-alpha, Dominant husband suddenly broke down in tears?” Much less, “What would you do if your super-alpha, Dominant husband suddenly broke down in tears as he apologized for having—for lack of a better term—an affair?”
“I’m so sorry, Savannah. Never did that perspective cross my mind. If it had, I swear to you, baby, I would not have contacted that couple. I didn’t look at it from that standpoint—as if I’d rather share a part of me with someone else instead of you. It was purely to keep you safe from a desire I had that I knew you’d never want to be a part of.”
This finally snaps me back into motion, and I lift my hand to wipe the tears that haven’t quite made it to his dark beard yet. “How do you know I wouldn’t want to be a part of it? When have I ever told you no to anything you expressed interest in?”
His face tilts to press against my palm, his eyes red, as if revolting against the unfamiliar feeling of crying. “It’s my job not only as your husband but as your Dom to know what your limits are, whether you’ve actually spoken about them aloud or not. A Dom is supposed to be in tune with their sub, identifying cues their body and energy are showing that maybe their mind isn’t aware of. I have dropped hints about my fantasy before, testing the waters, just to see what your reaction would be. And everything you said, everything your body language told me, was that you had absolutely no interest in sleeping with someone else.”
My brows furrow as I think back, unable to remember a time when he said anything about it. But even so, my immediate response right in this moment is most definitely an aversion to the idea. Just the thought of another man’s hands on me that aren’t Roman’s—
“See, baby?” he prompts low, and my eyes meet his once again. “You didn’t have to say a word, and I can tell you right now you don’t feel the slightest bit of excitement in the prospect of fucking another man.”
My unconscious flinch at those last few callous words is proof he’s right.
“What are you thinking, Savannah?” Doc asks when I don’t respond for a pregnant moment.
I let out a breath as my husband gets off the floor to sit next to me, closer than when we first sat down. “What Rome and I do—it’s not fucking.”
My cheeks heat, and even more when I realize I unconsciously used the name reserved for addressing him as my Dominant. I’m not used to speaking this way with or in front of someone who is not my husband. At the club, I don’t talk to many of the other submissives. And I sure as hell don’t speak to Doms who are not my own. We’ve done scenes out in the open, all foreplay though. We’ve never had sex in front of people before. But none of that required me to speak about my desires with another person. Not since the sessions we had with Doc, when he was assessing whether we were fit to be members of the exclusive Club Alias. But I think since I never had anything bad in my sexual history, and because we were a married couple in an established D/s relationship who were also previous clients of Dr. Walker before the membership sessions, we got easier access to the club than someone with a different background than we have.