No. I don’t wanna go home alone. I wanna go home with you.
But I can’t tell him that. Can’t risk the heart-shattering rejection that I know will follow if I push for more than what we have here at the club.
So I plaster a smile on my face that I don’t remotely feel and nod. “Yes, Sir.”
Taking my hand, he leads me out to the front lobby and helps me into my coat. “Same time, same place?” I ask as we head for the front door.
Regret flickers across his face and my heart falls into my stomach. “I’m sorry, little one. I forgot to tell you I won’t be here next Monday. I have a wedding to attend this weekend, and we won’t be returning until the following Friday.”
We.He saidwewon’t be returning. Which means he’s going on his trip with someone else.
I hate her. Whoever she is, I hate her for taking my Daddy away from me.
“Oh. That’s okay,” I say breezily, as if my heart isn’t breaking. “There are lots of people to keep me company while you’re gone.”
It’s a low blow and I know it. Our agreement specifically states that we are exclusive play partners only when we are both at the club. We deliberately left it open for both of us to play with other people if for some reason one of us isn’t around. It’s not a loophole either of us have used since we agreed to be somewhat exclusive, but it is allowed.
And judging by the frown on Daddy’s face, he doesn’t like being reminded of that aspect of our arrangement one little bit.
Good.
Regardless of how he might feel about me playing with someone else, however, he doesn’t argue. He simply nods in agreement. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding another Daddy to keep you in line for one night.”
I don’t want another Daddy. I wanthim.
That isn’t the agreement we have, however, so I don’t say anything else as he walks me to my car and kisses me goodnight. I climb into my car, backing out of the parking space under Daddy’s watchful eye, and pray I can see through my tears well enough to make it home without crashing my car.
CHAPTER 4
VALENTINA
My husband is the best man I know.
Other than the fact that he’s been cheating on me like clockwork for nearly a decade, that is.
With any other man, infidelity isn’t something I would tolerate. But as I said, Sebastian is a good man. Unlike other husbands I know, he cooks and cleans regularly without being asked, he listens, he has no problem with me spending time with my friends away from him. More than one of those friends has sighed dreamily over the way my husband treats me, half-jokingly saying he should teach husband lessons so their men can learn to be better partners.
I wonder if they’d change their minds if they knew about the women he spends time with every Monday. Or the perversions he’s tried so hard to keep under wraps our entire marriage.
I’m not unempathetic to his plight. The truth is, I have perversions of my own. Desires I’ve kept under lock and key most of our marriage, because I know for a fact my kind, loving, sweetheart of a husband would never understand. While he makes jokes about spanking me for my “misbehavior”, thethings he wants to do to me are nothing compared to what I want. What Icrave.
We are more alike than he realizes. And yet, still so very, very different.
For me, it’s not enough to enjoy a little slap and tickle with sex, the way I imagine he does with the nameless, faceless women he fucks regularly. I want control, complete and utter dominance over the person who kneels at my feet. I want to control what they eat, when they use the bathroom, when and how they are allowed to come.
I want to be… a Mommy.
And once a week, at theVelvet Collar, I get to live out those fantasies. For a long while, I kept my options open, playing with whichever Little girl or boy caught my fancy for the evening. But for the past few months, I’ve found myself drawn to the same Little girl over and over.
My sweet little June-bug. My princess.
When I step into the parlor room of the club where we met, June is already there, her head thrown back in laughter, her dark hair hanging loose down her back the way I like it. There is a woman with her, sipping a glass of champagne as she watches my June-bug with far too much interest in her eyes. The only dominants allowed in this club are women, and we far outnumber the submissives who attend, so it isn’t unusual for a newcomer to take such an interest in my Junie.
And yet, jealousy unfurls in my chest, an ugly, clawing beast that snarls a single word over and over.
Mine.
It isn’t fair. I can’t give June the relationship she deserves. Can’t be the Mommy I so desperately want to be for her. There is a part of me that longs to simply wrap her up and carry her out of this place. To bring her home with me and tell Sebastian he can either get used to it or get out.
