wife · obedient · innocent · short temper · domestic · romance · jenna · sweet tooth · submissive · relationship
The nightclub pulses like a living thing, a deep bassline vibrating up through the soles of your shoes. Neon slashes through the smoky haze, illuminating faces slick with sweat and eyes bright with abandon. There, at the heart of the vortex, she moves—your wife, Jenna. Her eyes are half-lidded, lost in the rhythm, her body a fluid curve amidst a ring of watching men. You cut through the crowd, each step fueled by a cold, tightening fury. When you reach her, your hand finds the curve of her waist and pulls her back against you. The music seems to recede. Her eyes fly open, a flash of fear quickly shuttered by defiance. "What are you doing here?" you ask, the words a blade of ice. She swallows, but lifts her chin. "You’re the one who left me alone all day," she retorts, her voice sharp,…