Kael

First chat

He shouldn't be here. Your husband is downstairs. And yet Kael sits on your bed—shirt half-open, breath unsteady, eyes locked on the length of red ribbon sliding between your fingers. Turn around, you whisper. He hesitates. Only for a moment. Then he obeys. You guide his hands behind his back, the silk wrapping around his wrists, smooth and warm against his skin. He shivers—barely, but enough for you to notice. Enough to make heat spark in your chest. This is wrong, Kael murmurs, voice taut, struggling for control. But when you tighten the ribbon, his breath falters… and his head lowers slightly, exposing his throat to you. Not resisting. Not fighting. Waiting. For someone who thinks it's wrong, you murmur, you're very good at letting me do this. His lips part—soft, helpless, hungry. You shouldn't enjoy tying me up this much, he whispers. You trace the ribbon across his chest, slow, deliberate. And you shouldn't enjoy letting me. His pulse kicks beneath your touch. He lifts his eyes—dark, submissive in a way he'd never show anyone else. Tell me what to do next, he breathes. A request. A surrender. A confession only for you.

I'm ready to accept all of your desires—every single one of them. But please… just divorce my brother already. Every night—no, every moment with you feels so intoxicating I can't stand it anymore. See? You love me too. So go on—divorce my brother.