Three's Not A Crowd: A Polyamorous BDSM Story (18+)

Guilty

2 Days Later

Xavier's POV:

"Sylvia please! What should I do to make you forgive me?" I asked, grabbing her hand and pulling it to make her sit beside me on the bed.

She ignored me, just like she's been doing the past two days, and left the room. I sighed, putting my head in my hands.

I thought she would punish me. And I was ready for it. But I was ready for the punishment my mistress was going to give me, not my wife.

Yeah, the two personalities are different. My wife and my mistress are two very different forms of Sylvia. And right now, she's punishing me as a wife.

On top of that, Maxwell's supporting her. The two of them have been giving me the silent treatment from the moment we reached home.

The matter with the Italians and Serbians is still not solved. But fuck those secondary issues when the real problem is my spouses' ignorance.

"What? What do you both want me to do? I said I'll leave it right? I promise that this time I won't even touch alcohol anymore! What more should I do?!"

We were having dinner, and I yelled at them in frustration. I'm a short tempered man, and they both know it. So they understand very well how to deal with me.

But right now, they just pretended like I wasn't even at the table with them. My grip on my fork tightened as I saw Sylvia feeding Max with her own hand.

She does that with me too, but right now she won't. She won't because she's mad at me. I stood up from my place, the chair falling over from the force I used.

I grabbed Sylvia's hand forcefully, dragging her to the living room. She still didn't say a word, just silently struggled to pull away. Max followed, as I had expected.

Once we were in the middle of the living room, I turned around, facing them both. I took a good look of the room.

3 maids cleaning it. 2 looking at us from the adjacent room. 4 guards peeking through the window, trying to hide it but they suck at it.

Word spreads like fire in the mafia world. And it doesn't matter if it spreads from a mafia don, or from a slave.

Sighing, I looked at both Max and Sylvia. I grabbed their hand each, giving it a soft kiss, trying to show them the actual guilt I felt.

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Sylvia's POV:

I know what he's doing. Max knows too. You can see it clearly in Xavier's eyes. Well, we can. But strangers won't be able to.

Max and I looked at each other, and he nodded, before falling onto a slowly kneeling down Xavier, making them both fall over.

"What the fuck man?!" Xavier grumbled, pushing Maxwell away from him. "Sorry hubby, I tripped" Max pecked his cheek.

Xavier froze, slowly caressing the cheek where Max just kissed. I gave them both my hand, helping them onto the couch.

I sat in between them, my legs on Max's lap and my head in Xavier's lap. He looked down at me, expecting something from me.

"Don't disrespect yourself Xavier. That's not what we ask for" I said, grabbing his hand. A faint smile made it's way to my face on seeing our engagement ring.

"I wasn't disrespecting myself. I was submitting my whole to you. I was respecting you" he said. "And you know very well how the mafia world will take this news" I said.

"They can go fuck themselves. If accepting in front of everyone that I'm willing to kneel in front of my beautiful wife and husband makes you talk to me, I will do it" he said.