Kat Valdez-Richards lay on the bed awake, staring at her still *fairly* new husband sleeping sound next to her. Sure, they weren’t exactly newlyweds anymore, their marriage about four years old. But even so, it seemed wrong that, at ten-thirty at night, they were—he was—asleep.
Kat studied Peter’s slumbering form, sprawled across the mattress and pillows. She knew that, over time, passions often ebbed. Was that what this was? She’d heard about the infamous seven-year itch too. She’d just never thought it’d happen to them.
She sighed. It was too soon for their love lives to crash. It’d only been four years. Yet they hardly had sex anymore. Maybe once or twice a week. It wasn’t unusual for more than two weeks to pass without them being intimate. And when they did—don’t get her wrong, it was nice—but it was just so…nice.
From the start, Peter had never been nice. He’d been exciting and hot and domineering and, yes, even a little frightening at times. He’d been powerful and masterful and passionate and considerate. He’d been exactly what she’d always wanted. Exactly what she needed.