Temptation-Bonus Scene

Eight Years Later…

“…And they all lived happily ever after.”

I close the book, and Alessia looks up at me wide-eyed with her mouth open. “They killed the wolf, Daddy?” Her bottom lip trembles. “That was mean.”

“It’s only a story, principessa.” I lift her into my arms, and she presses her warm body to me. 

“It wasn’t the wolf’s fault he was hungry.”

I pat her golden curls, so much like her mother’s, as she wipes her nose on my Armani suit. 

“You think the wolf deserved a chance?”

She sits back and nods, her blue eyes serious. “He was just hungry.”

“You’re right, principessa. Everyone deserves a chance.”

She’s got the same soft heart as her mother, the same soft heart that saved me.

Greta appears at the doorway. Her eyes dart out to the dark forest behind us, and she shivers. It’s my favorite time of the night, when we come into the library and I read my principessa a bedtime story.

The two youngest have already gone to bed, and by the way Alessia clings to me, she’s as tired as her little brothers.

Then it’s only Luca that we have to get to bed before I can spend time with my wife.

As if on cue, he bounds into the room.

“Can I stay up for one more game?”

“No,” Greta and I say together. My wife’s gaze meets mine in a smile of understanding. She reaches up to pull the curtain behind me, and I catch a glimpse of red lace under her demure knee length skirt.

My pulse skitters under my skin. She’s wearing the red suspenders and probably the crotchless panties with the delicate lace detail.

“Bedtime.” I stand up suddenly scooping Alessia up with me.

Luca’s face falls, because he knows by my tone there’s no room for argument. 

“Okay.” He drags his seven-year-old feet out of the room, and I follow with his sister.

“Daddy,” she says when I set her down in her room, “Luca dared me to go down into the basement.”

“Oh.” I wait expectantly. My little girl isn’t scared of shadows, but we discourage all the kids from exploring the basement.

“Why is there a locked door?”

I fuss with the blankets, getting her tucked in as I compose my response. 

“It’s the wine cellar. It’s not for children.”

She seems satisfied with the answer, even though the wine cellar is a door that’s never locked. 

“Luca said he saw you and Mommy going in there last week, and you didn’t come out for a long time.”

The answer catches me by surprise, and I freeze halfway to pulling a blanket up. 

“Did he?”

Curiosity will get the better of my son someday. He’s a bold explorer that one. He loves playing in the woods, which scares his mother, and sneaking around the house after dark, it seems.

“He said when you came out you were laughing and kissing a lot.”

“Did he?”

I glance at the door, willing my wife to come and save me from the awkward questions. But she’s down the hall tucking Luca into bed.

We knew someday we’d need to come up with a reason why there’s a room in the basement where only Mommy and Daddy are allowed to go. 

A chamber where we disappear to at night, when the children are in bed and the staff have retired for the evening. Where the walls are soundproofed so no one hears my wife scream as I pleasure her. Where our collection of toys is ever growing, where there’s a cage in the corner and a bed with a hook. Where there are cloudy mirrors, and the dim light throws dark shadows on the walls. Where whips and chains and leather and silk adorn the walls, providing every pleasure tool my wife desires. Where she lets out her darkness, and I drink in her light.

“Is it because you drank all the wine?” Alessia asks.

I think about what we do in that chamber, the exploration of each other’s fantasies.

“Yes, honey, we go there to drink wine.”

A smile tugs on my lips at how readily she accepts the white lie. I make a mental note to reinforce the door to the entire basement. The whole area will become a kid free zone. 

“Goodnight, Daddy.”

My principessa rolls over, and I kiss her curls.

“Goodnight, principessa.”

I smile to myself as I go to find my wife. We have a date in the cellar. It’s the one place in the house the children are not allowed, the delicious secret we keep all to ourselves.