The hallway was quiet now.
Adrian’s rhythmic breathing drifted faintly from the guest room, a soft punctuation to the evening's earlier intensity. Claire lingered at the edge of the bedroom, hand resting on the doorframe, her robe half tied, her skin still flushed and radiant from the kind of orgasm only a man like Adrian could give her—uninhibited, consuming, so boldly masculine that it left her feeling both gloriously used and reverently divine.
She should have felt guilty. Sometimes, weeks ago, she did. But not tonight.
Tonight, Claire knew what she needed.
She stepped into the bedroom with purpose, pausing for a moment to soak in the sight that always struck her with such unexpected tenderness—Ethan, her husband, on his knees.
Waiting for her.…
Love your writing. Please keep sharing your stories.