12. The Hotwife
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE HOTWIFE
Malakai
“Show her what you’re here for.”
Julian’s words pierce through me with a fierceness I can’t overlook. His tone is meant to provoke—to awaken something I’ve buried deep inside me that’s beginning to stir.
He knows exactly what he’s doing, and if I didn’t know him so well, I’d be angry.
Him ripping the contract in half feels dismissive—like he knows he can manipulate me before casting me to the side.
But there’s a flickering heat in his eyes that tells me there’s more here than dominance or control. He’s not just testing me—he’s watching me. Gauging me .
This intensity between us is built on years of familiarity—formative years spent by his side and learning his quirks. Yet, as I watch his jaw tighten and his eyes darken, it’s clear I don’t know him at all. A glimmer of realization hits me, sharp and sudden. My pulse races under his gaze, and I can feel every cell in my body attuned not just to Sophie, but to Julian. To both of them. I’d spent so long thinking I knew who I was, what I wanted, but this? This is something I never imagined.
The moment is broken when I flick my gaze to Sophie. Running my fingers along the curve of her jaw, I use the softness of her skin to ground myself. Her warmth keeps me steady, but Julian’s presence lingers just behind it, chaotic and electric.
Maybe it’s Julian’s confidence. The way he sits there, completely sure of himself, daring me to rise to the occasion. Or perhaps it’s the unspoken permission in his words:
Show her what you’re here for.
Saying that revealed something intimate about him, a crack in the armor that allows me insight into their marriage.
It’s intimate, what we’re all doing, and I’m grateful for the chance to be a part of it. This isn’t about scratching an itch or exploring boundaries—it’s deeper, more consuming. Something that has been hiding in me all along, waiting for the right catalyst, waiting for the perfect moment.
Seventeen years.
Seventeen years of tension, of trying not to think about the man before me despite trying not to, of pushing these feelings down. Now, the ache in my chest feels impossible to ignore. I’m on the edge of a precipice, staring down into a version of myself I don’t know.
As I shift my attention back to Sophie, I let my thumb brush across her cheek, feeling the weight of their eyes on me.
I don’t know what this is becoming, but I know there’s no going back.
“Don’t be afraid to use your safe word,” I tell her, my voice a low purr. I’d read their contract and know that she prefers the traffic light system—green for good, yellow for pause and discuss, red for stop.
She nods, her throat bobbing as she brings a hand to my chest. “I know. I trust you.”
You shouldn’t.
The two words reverberate through my mind as I take in her shiny flaxen hair, her porcelain skin, the tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose, and the way her blue eyes are so bright and wide, it makes me want to call this whole thing off.
I know she’s experienced—I know she’s not completely naive.
But there’s something innocent about Sophie—something I’m so hesitant to corrupt.
The weight of responsibility bears down on me—not just dominance, but the fragility of the trust they’ve placed in my hands. I can feel Julian’s gaze pinning me down.
What if I accidentally cross the line?
What if tonight ruins everything—what if it can’t be repaired?
My eyes flick up to Julian, who gives nothing away except for the tight grip on his knee.
It’s not a verbal command, or even a nod, but it’s the kind of permission I didn’t realize I needed.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, placing my other hand around her waist.
Her lips quirk to the side. “Having second thoughts, Ravage?”
Her boldness makes me laugh. “No. I just want to make sure you know what you’re in for. I won’t be gentle. And since your husband destroyed the contract…”
In my peripheral, I see Julian stiffen, his jaw flexing as his fingers drum slowly against his thigh, watching closely. Waiting to see if he’ll call the whole thing off, I don’t move my gaze from Sophie’s face, which has taken on the faintest blush.
He doesn’t.
“I don’t want you to be gentle,” she murmurs, her voice nearly a whisper, sending a thrill down my spine. “Father,” she adds, her eyes sparking with defiance, and a shiver of anticipation skates down my skin.
My nostrils flare as the hand on her cheek slides back to cradle the base of her skull, fingers threading into her hair as I fist it gently. She’s closer now, the faint scent of citrus and something floral teasing me, intoxicating.
“I know what you’re doing,” I warn, the words a low growl against her cheek.
She gives me a bratty, little smile, eyes glinting, and the urge to break that defiant stare pulses inside me. I smirk and look over at Julian, whose pupils are fully blown as he studies us, hands clenched at his sides, clearly on edge.
“You didn’t tell me your wife is a brat,” I mutter, tilting her head back as I step closer, pulling her body against mine fully, feeling her chest rise as her breath catches.
“She can be,” Julian says, his low voice laced with something dark and dangerous that sends a shock wave of arousal through me. “But she just needs a little reminder to behave.”
I arch a brow as I look back down at Sophie, and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth, the challenge in her eyes unmistakable. Doing a scene with a brat is not my typical dynamic. Most of the time, my subs are very obedient. Too obedient. It’s just part of the religion kink, and when edge play is involved? Bratting out isn’t necessarily in the best interest of the sub. And yet, I can’t deny how the thought of her disobedience excites me. There’s something intriguing about knowing that Sophie is going to push back.
Until I dominate her into submission.
My eyes trace her lips, lingering on the glossy sheen of her mouth, and she notices my hypnotic gaze because she trails her tongue along her lower lip, slow, taunting, daring. And with that look in her eyes, I lose my mind.
Leaning down, I press my lips against hers, a low, guttural moan escaping me when I get a whiff of her scent, fresh roses mixed with something subtly citrusy. Her lip gloss tastes like vanilla, and her warm body softens against mine as I push my tongue into her mouth, claiming her in a kiss that’s anything but gentle.
She groans as I fist her hair tighter, my fingers digging into her hip, and something deep and dark awakens inside me, knowing I’m kissing someone I’ve wanted to kiss for weeks now. Someone who is funny, and beautiful, and smart, and so damn sexy—yet unpredictable in a way that no one else has been before.
Someone who is technically off-limits.
I could stay like this, tasting her, punishing her, but something inside me wants more.
I pull away, breathing hard, almost reluctant. “On your knees.”
Her eyes go wide, wobbling between surprise and defiance, and I ignore the way her lips are perfectly pink and swollen, the way her hair is just slightly out of place, making her look even more irresistible.
Eyes flicking between mine, she smirks, but she doesn’t move.
“Do as I say, little dove,” I murmur, the words slipping out before I can stop them, and I realize a second too late that I’ve just given Julian’s wife a term of endearment unintentionally.
She notices, too. The smirk fades for a fraction of a second, eyes widening as she catches the reverence in my voice, before her smile returns, even bolder this time. She’s just as surprised as I am, but she’s hiding it well, the bratty glint in her eye sharper than ever.
Her voice drops to a taunt. “You’re going to have to earn it.”
My pulse quickens, her challenge stirring something fierce in me. I want her submission, yes. But I need her trust. Slowly, I pull her close again, my hand sliding down to rest firmly at the small of her back, possessive, reverent.
For once, I don’t know if I want to break her defiance or bow to her fire. But I’m determined to do both.
Her smirk wavers as the air between us grows heavier. I can see her pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat, her chest rising and falling as she swallows. Her resistance falters, and a softness replaces that defiant spark in her gaze. Her eyes drop, lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks as the challenge drains from her expression, leaving behind a quiet vulnerability.
“I’ll give you one more chance, but only because this dynamic is new,” I say, my tone firm but tinged with warning now.
For a beat, she hesitates. Her lips part slightly as her breath catches. I scowl at her, letting the moment stretch. My silence is deliberate and intended to make her squirm. The corner of her mouth twitches, like she’s trying to suppress a grin, but I can see the hesitation creeping in.
She’s testing the boundaries, but she must know where this is headed.
“On. Your. Knees.” This time, my voice is low and unyielding—the kind that brooks no argument.
Her lips part as if to retort, but something in my tone or my gaze shifts the air between us. Slowly, she lowers herself to the ground. When she finally settles on her knees, her hands rest on her thighs, but instead of the palms-up pose, her fingers drum impatiently against her legs. Her eyes dart up to mine, bold and challenging, as if to say, Happy now?
I step closer, towering over her, letting my presence press against her like a weight. “We’ll work on that attitude.”
She shifts under my gaze, the bratty facade flickering. Still, she doesn’t drop it entirely.
“Maybe I just enjoy keeping you on your toes, Father.” Her defiance has lost some of its bite, so I decide to press further. Letting the silence draw out, I circle her slowly, letting the weight of my silence press down on her.
“You know, bratty subs don’t get to keep their clothes.” My voice is soft but sharp, the kind that lingers in the air like a whispered threat.
Sophie stiffens, clearly aroused, but not ready to give in without a fight.
I crouch down, my face level with hers, and reach out to tilt her chin up, forcing her to look directly at me.
“True submission is everything to me, little dove.”
It’s a command and a promise at once, and for the first time, I see her bravado falter completely.
She’s not completely submitting, but she’s not pushing back, either.
“Good girl,” I murmur, letting the words linger, and I see her shiver, the praise igniting a glow in her eyes. The brat is still there, simmering beneath her skin, but now it’s watered down with a willingness that makes me admire her so fucking much.
Without thinking, I let my fingers sweep through her hair, tugging gently, just enough to draw a small gasp from her lips. Her breath catches again, and this time she doesn’t fight it. Her gaze stays locked with mine, vulnerable yet fiercely stubborn, as though daring me to see every part of her and still take her as she is.
“Keep your eyes on me, Sophie,” I command softly, and to my satisfaction, she obeys without hesitation. Her gaze doesn’t waver, and for a moment, I lose myself in the way she’s looking at me—half defiant, half surrendered, wholly mine.
I feel Julian’s eyes on us, a reminder that he’s still there, but even he’s faded into the background. Right now, all I see is Sophie kneeling in front of me. I’m tempted to tell her how exquisite she looks, but then with a heavy weight in my abdomen, I remember my temporary role in all of this.
“You’re mine tonight,” I murmur, my voice a rough whisper. My words cause her cheeks to flush. She nods, biting her lower lip, and I notice the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, as if to remind me that she’s still not entirely tamed.
I’ll have to work on that.
When she hesitates, I step behind her and lower my mouth near her ear, voice dropping. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let your husband watch while I edge you for hours. But if you keep testing me… we’ll see how well that mouth of yours can beg.”
Sophie shudders visibly, and even Julian shifts in his seat.
“Yes, my lord,” she finally says, her words laced with mischief but also an unmistakable acceptance.
I tilt my head, letting my thumb brush her lower lip and admiring the way she opens her mouth just slightly, instinctively, as though ready to take any command I might give.
“Such a smart mouth,” I mutter, my tone wry. “Now, lose the clothes. I want nothing between us.”
This time, she obeys without a word, though the glimmer in her eyes promises this won’t be the last time she tests me.
“Tonight is only a taste,” I murmur as a reminder, brushing my thumb against her lower lip again and tugging it down slightly. “But next time… we’ll see how far I can take you.”
Her pupils dilate, and I look over to see Julian’s grip on the armrest tighten.