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She’s trying to hide it, but the uncharacteristic vulnerability in her voice causes my heart to ache. The thought of hurting her—or worse, losing her—tears at me, but I couldn’t ignore these feelings any longer. I love her far too much to hide this part of me from her—the part yearning for something that no matter how hard she tries, she can’t give me.

“You are everything to me, Vic. The last thing I want is to lose you,” I profess, my voice thick with emotion. “But I need to be honest with you about who I am and what I want. I love you, and I want to be with you… But I want you to share me with a man?—”

“You mean… You aren’t looking to date a man while we’re together?” Vic interrupts, her tone laced with confusion.

“No,” I exhale, vehemently shaking my head.Shit! I fucked this up…“I am one hundred percent committed to us and what we have! I’m not asking you to open our relationship. I’m not looking for another partner. I just… Sex. I want sex with a big fucking guy that can throw me around and overpower me.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” Vic chuckles at my admission, and a heated flush flares over my cheeks.

“I love you, and I want to keep being with you.” I squeeze her hands and press my forehead to hers. “And if you say no, I understand, Madame. And I’ll figure out how to be okay with that. Because you are worth far more to me than what I’m asking for.”

Vic presses her soft lips against mine with a gentle, lingering kiss. When she pulls back, her breath wisps over my lower lip. “I appreciate you being so open and honest with me, sweet girl. I’m open to giving you what you asked for.”

“Is that a yes?” I blurt with an arched brow.

“I’ll do anything for you,” Vic responds with a smile, pressing her lips back to mine. “Usually, I’d want more time to find a suitable partner”—Vic pauses to draw my attention to the open email on her laptop—“but it appears fate was on your side with this one. I knowjustwho I would enjoy sharing you with.”

CHAPTER THREE

VICTORIA

Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, it feels almost surreal how fast this night has come about. I smooth my hands over the outfit I carefully chose for tonight’s occasion—a tight black leather miniskirt paired with a sheer white blouse that clings to me in all the right places. My hair is tousled, and every detail of my makeup is perfect. I add the final touch—a pair of strappy black stilettos that make my legs look even longer than they already are.

I run my fingers through my hair one last time, trying to smooth any stray strands before heading into the bedroom to ensure Elena is ready.

And is she ever…

Elena is standing by the bed, admiring herself in the mirror. She is wearing a deep red dress with a scandalously low neckline that hugs her generous curves. Her long, dark hair cascades over her shoulders. The confidence radiating off her is undeniable. She is stunning—as always—but tonight, she looks particularly seductive. She’s daring the club to try and ignore her.

Without noticing me, she takes a seat on the cream ottoman at the foot of the bed. I stare at her in silence from the threshold for a moment as she fumbles with the buckle of her strappy heels. “Let me help you with that, sweet girl,” I insist, crossing the room and carefully lowering myself to her feet. I run my hands down the length of her calf and pull her foot into my lap, affixing the buckle she was struggling with. When I reach for the other, I stare up at her and confess, “You look…”

“Gorgeous?” she asks with a smirk, when my words trail off.

“Always.” I nod with a flirtatious wink. “I was going to stay almost too good to share…Almost.”

The flush on her round, naturally rosy cheeks deepens, and I can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. Sheepish and embarrassed, she mirrors my expression.Fuck, I love that look.I’d do anything to see more of it.Apparently, including sharing the woman I love.

Tonight is supposed to be fun, something different. But a small part of me—okay, maybe a big part—is hesitant. Being with a man isn’t new for either of us, as we’ve both had prior relationships with men—her as a submissive and me as a Domme. For as secure as I am in what the two of us have together, I would never forgive myself if giving into this desire of hers was the reason it crumbled.

“Thank you again, Madame.” Elena’s soft voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Thank you for being so confident in us that you can give me this.”

Whether or not it was her intention, the words immediately alleviate my hesitations. The morning of her confession was spent discussing of how this could play out. We agreed thisauction is the best option for us to expand our boundaries and meet her needs. Neither of us is interested in seeking a long-term relationship with a man, but the thought of sharing someone—sharing the experience of someone else—is thrilling to us both. She gets the roughness she’s craving as we both tend to her. And I… I get control over both of them. We get to enjoy the pleasure of one night with a man without a commitment or any of the complications that would normally be involved in finding a suitable third for an evening.

My phone dings, and I glance at the screen. “Our car is downstairs.” Grabbing my clutch from the dresser, I quickly check to make sure I have everything we’ll need—keys, a credit card, some cash, and, even though the club has plenty, condoms—and shove my phone into it.

The city is alive with lights and noise when we step out of the building. With our fingers laced together, we ride in silence to Club Triskelion. Elena squeezes my hand as my driver pulls to a stop beside the bouncer-guarded velvet ropes. “If at any point you decide you don’t want this, sweet girl”—I return her squeeze—“use your safeword. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“Just nervous, Madame,” she insists as we climb from the back of the Town car.

The club is busier than usual, the auction enticing less active members to make an appearance. The sounds of laughter and chatter mix with the low hum of music and clattering glasses. We make our way through the excited crowd, Elena’s hand firmly in mine as I guide her through the maze of bodies—a sea of gorgeous men in tuxedos and beautiful women in shimmering dresses.

The auction stage, a raised platform, is in the middle of the club, surrounded by tables and chairs for bidders. “Ms. Conrad?” a young, attractive usher calls, garnering my attention to an empty table with a reserved sign. “Your table.”

“Thank you.” I nod, pulling out a chair and helping Elena into her seat before allowing the usher to do the same for me.

“They’re about to start,” he informs us. “Can I get you any drinks before the bidding begins?”

“A martini for me, extra dry. And my sweet girl will have a French 75. Thank you.”

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