My Husband's Intimate Game Rules

After our wedding, my husband Mason Reynolds had the audacity to bring his student, Lily Harrison, into our home under the guise of tutoring. But their "study sessions" quickly devolved into something far more disturbing—like the night he suggested that twisted little game.

It was a chilly evening in March when Mason walked in with her.

Lily couldn't have been more than nineteen, all wide-eyed and restless, with a face caked in makeup and curves she clearly knew how to flaunt. The way she carried herself screamed youth—bold, reckless, and painfully naive.

"This is Lily," Mason announced, flashing that charming grin that always meant trouble. "One of my students from the tutoring center. Since it's the weekend and she can't get home, I offered her a place to stay."

My stomach twisted. I knew my husband. This wasn't generosity—it was a calculated move.

Before I could protest, he shot me that infuriating smirk. "Relax, honey. You're here too. What's the harm?"

I glanced between him and the girl now standing in our bedroom, her curiosity practically oozing. I bit my tongue. Throwing her out without cause would make me the villain, and Mason loved playing the victim.

After dinner, as I cleared the table, Mason leaned back, stretching lazily before turning to Lily. "I'm stuffed. How about a game?"

"Sure!" Lily chirped, blinking up at him like an eager puppy. "What kind, Professor?"

His grin turned downright sleazy. "You and Diana go shower, slip into dresses and heels, then I'll blindfold myself. We'll play Scent of a Woman." He closed his eyes, inhaling dramatically. "I'll guess which one is my wife. If I'm right, I get to punish you both. If I'm wrong… well, you punish me."

My skin crawled. This wasn't a game—it was a sick power play.

But Lily? She just giggled, turning to me like this was some harmless fun. "I'm in. How about you, Professor's wife?"

Disgust coiled in my gut. What kind of girl agrees to this?

"I'm going to bed," I said flatly, turning toward the stairs.

Mason's voice cut through the air like a whip. "Where do you think you're going?"