Well, technically, Sophie is, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Kai and I have always butted heads when it comes to dominance, and if I don’t assert myself now, at the beginning of whatever this is, he’ll hold it over my head for the rest of the evening.
My ex-best friend glances at me, his expression unreadable, but there’s a subtle tension there—a silent acknowledgment. He gestures toward the windowsill. “There’s a contract there,” he says, voice smooth. His tone is… almostchallenging.
I look over and see the neat stack of papers—his guidelines and an invitation for formal consent. There’s an ironic sense of decorum in that contract, a reminder of where he thought we’d draw the line. But right now, rules are the last thing on my mind. I let a slow, deliberate smile spread across my face as I reach for the document.
The paper feels thin between my fingers, too weak for the intensity of the night.Fragile.
It’s a barrier, one that stands between me and the restless pull I haven’t fully named yet. I know what this contract is supposed to do—set boundaries, make this feel controlled. Safe.
But I don’t need paper to control this scene. I already have control.
Without a word, I tear it cleanly down the middle, watching Kai’s reaction as the halves flutter to the floor. I don’t break eye contact. Let him see it for what it is. This isn’t impulsive. It’s deliberate. My way of reminding him—remindingmyself—who’s in charge here.
Kai doesn’t say a word, but there’s something in the way his shoulders settle. Not defiance. Not irritation. Something quieter. Respect, maybe. Or concession.
He gets it.
I roll my shoulders back, letting the silence stretch as I tip my chin slightly, signaling him to continue. He might be part of this, but he’s here on my terms.
Sophie ismywife, after all, and this is how we’ve always done it.
“Julian,” she warns, cocking her head.Behave,she says with her eyes.
Kai’s jaw tenses ever so slightly, his hand hovering near Sophie’s, but his eyes flick to mine with a hint of something between submission and defiance.
“I don’t need a contract to tell me how you’re going to fuck my wife. I’ll be here to make sure you do a good job.”
His pupils dilate, and I can see the shift in his demeanor as he relinquishes that last sliver of control. This was his game, but he’s given it to me now.
“Very well,” he says, looking between Sophie and me. He’s still smirking, but his movements are careful.
He knows he’s operating within my limits.
I hold his gaze, unmoving, letting the weight of my presence remind him exactly who’s setting the pace tonight.
With a subtle nod, I offer a final cue, my tone low and even. “Show her what you’re here for,” I say, leaving no doubt that he’s here at my discretion.
Kai’s fingers graze Sophie’s waist, and I shift slightly in my seat, the leather creaking beneath me. But it’s not her I’m watching. It’s him.
There’s a heat curling low in my stomach, sharp and insistent, but I bury it beneath something else. Control. Dominance. It’s easier that way—easier to frame this as me overseeing everything, guiding the scene like I always do. Like I’m supposed to.
I let my eyes drift over Kai’s hand, the way it rests just a little too long against the curve of Sophie’s hip.
My jaw tightens, and I lean back, fingers drumming slowly against my thigh.
The charged silence thickens as I watch, fully in command.
And now he knows it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE HOTWIFE
Malakai
“Show her what you’re here for.”
