Her beauty took my breath away just as powerfully as it had the first day I saw her. That sweet angel’s face with the beautiful blue eyes. A tiny button nose with a sprinkling of freckles. Always the perfect amount of makeup. Just enough to enhance her natural beauty. Those rosebud lips. And always that beautiful little flush on her cheeks when she saw me.
And now like a brute I would have to ruin that pure innocence, her perfect trust in me.
She rose up, every motion elegant and refined, her long blonde hair falling in soft sweet curls all down her back to her waist.
“Hello, my Silas.”
Her angelic smile almost sent me to my knees.
“Sweetheart, we need to talk.”
The smile slid from her face by inches, leaving me feeling empty and hollow.
Idespisedmyself for the distressed look on her face. The little frown. The unusual lines of worry on her smooth forehead.
I was about to shatter her whole world. I was going to have to admit my most shameful desires to her.
Would she ever trust me again?
“Is something wrong?” Paloma asked anxiously, hurrying to my side and twining her fingers in my much bigger ones. “Did something happen at work?”
She smelled like lavender and ylang-ylang, her scent filling my whole body with an aching longing. For her sweetness. For her innocence. For her beautiful kisses.
If only—if only I didn’t have to hurt her! If only I had been stronger.
“Your face is so serious,” she whispered as I drew her over to the cream sofa, her hand gently stroking my face, fingers soft and delicate against the rough bristles of my beard.
“I’m afraid itisserious, darling,” I said. “It is something very serious indeed. But the thing to remember is, I love you.”
Paloma stiffened, freezing in place as her eyes carefully examined my expression for clues.
“I am here to beg for your forgiveness?—”
“What happened?” she interrupted, and there was a hard little note in her voice that I hadn’t heard before.
“I have—been weak. Even though I love you, my darling, more than anything else in the world, I have been—unfaithful to our marriage. I’m so sorry.”
My secret was out
I felt like throwing up, my stomach heaving almost uncontrollably.
“Why?” she asked. "Are you not getting enough—intimate time at home?”
Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and I clutched desperately at them. She was so pure! So innocent!My sweet wife couldn’t evensaythe word sex without blushing.
“It’s not about that. There are just some—darker desires I do not feel comfortable talking about with my wife. But I swear, darling, we are going to go to therapy together, and I’m going to overcome this.”
She buried her face in her hands, her long blonde hair falling all over my lap, and making me feel even more like a cruel bastard.
“What are these dark desires?” she asked, her voice sounding stifled.
“I don’t want to distress you,” I said gently.
“Just tell me.”
I swallowed hard.
“My desires are very. . . unconventional. Perhaps it is because I am such a hard, brutal man. But I have these urges to put my hand on a woman’s buttocks. To spank and smack the buttocks, in fact. I like it dirty andrough. The name for it is BDSM. I am so sorry you have to hear this. So very sorry. I promise to do better in future.”
