The dim light of the bedroom cast long shadows across the king-sized bed, where Emma knelt on the silk sheets, her wrists bound loosely behind her back with soft leather cuffs. Michael stood at the foot of the bed, his broad chest rising and falling steadily as he watched his wife, a predatory smile curling his lips. Riley, their longtime friend, hovered nearby, his eyes wide with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. They'd talked about this for months—whispers over wine, teasing touches at parties—but now, with the air thick and charged, it was real.
