He was going mad

He was a man, a man who'd crumble instantaniously under the soft murmurs and praises of his wife. Her simple presence was just rewarding after a long day of work.

More so when he got to touch the soft and feminine curves; only for him. To touch and worship, kiss and mark so softly - it had him reeling when he found himself in the dim home with not a single word of the familiarity of his wife to greet him.

Only the sweet mellow smell that lingered when she was home.

He didn't mind it at first, he never would've thought he'd even have these ideas in his head yet there he was. A mess on the couch with eyebags, messy blonde hair, and wine that looked ever so tempting the longer she wasn't home.

Until she was. The serenity of her voice that called his name, the subtle click of the heel. It had him wanting to touch those curves that he sought out every night the longer she was out.

He was already before her, thick fingers wanting to reach; trace and map out the softness he once touched yet he held himself back with a thick fingers rubbing his temples; already turning to the side knowing well he'd love to carry that beautiful woman into the bed without even asking where the fuck she's been going out every night. He knew she'd frequent a casino, never spending; only watching but he couldn't fathom the idea of someone touching his wife the way he was graced to do.

"Where have you been?," he'd let out in a gruff, his jaw clenched while he his will frayed.