Caught in the Act

RAIN'S POV

I stood up, alarmed. All traces of tiredness fled away.

The knock came again. Thank goodness Ethan was thoughtful enough to lock the door.

Regrets rushed through my spine like a tsunami.

Hold up, you heard me say regret? Nah! I don't feel regret for having one of the best sex of my life after 5 years of enduring terrible and horrible sex with my husband, where my moans were not of pleasure but to make him feel like a man. Damian has the worst bedmatics—taking his passionate time with foreplay, getting me drunk with expectations, but cums in the longest 3 minutes of humping my precious pussy, breathing fast and furious like a tourist who just ran the whole length of Ben Nevis mountain, leaving me frustrated and terribly horny while he turns to his side of the bed, snoring like a lazy, overfed pig. I complained during the first 7 months of our marriage before I got tired of complaining when I saw no effort. So I resolved to toys, pleasuring and jerking, sometimes sitting on the toilet but mostly inside the bathtub soaked, while he snored his dirty ass off in bed. So today, when the opportunity to get really cracked found me through Ethan—his wild, insatiable brother and my ex-high school lover—as a Christmas present wrapped in the guise of helping him set up the kitchen so he can try out a new recipe, I grabbed it by the neck, pounced on it hungrily, and oh my fucking god, it was wild and soothing, making up for the horrible 5 years of humping.

Alarmed, I scurried to the emergency exit door that led to the lawn garden. Frightened and shaking, I managed to hold myself together and clicked in the lock passcode, silently praying I got it right.

Fuck it!

Incorrect password. This door better behave.

Trembling and with shaky hands, I tried again, this time more carefully.

CORRECT... The door clicked open just when my phone rang from the kitchen drawer where I had left it earlier.

I turned back with all curiosity and alertness, eyes almost bulging from my eye sockets when I saw the caller ID:

Damian

Beads of perspiration poured all over me.

It ended and started ringing again immediately. I had two options: accept the call or let it ring.

I chose the former. Ethan caught my hand in an attempt to accept the call. My clit throbbed in excitement at his touch. Gosh, get a hold, bitch, this is not the time. Casting him a deadly look, I struggled to free my hand from his grip.

The knock came on the door again, this time louder, heavier.

He let go of my hand as I picked up my phone from the drawer and rushed towards the already open emergency exit. My phone started ringing again, but I ignored it.

I moved with all alertness. My hair was still a mess, and my tank top was still rumpled from the effect of the episode.

I took the backyard staircase that led to the rooftop, where climbing in through the storeroom window was the only and last option I had to go through in order to get to the master's basement where our room was located.

Heart thumping, eardrums getting heavy and heavier, stomach tightening in fear—luck was on my side. Climbing the storeroom window was not much of a tedious job.

I made it to the basement and peeped into the bedroom. I could see a few things while sticking an eye through the space from the door, as it wasn't tightly closed. Adrenaline pumping, threatening to burst through my lungs, I saw Damian's office jacket and shoes on the floor with no sight of him in the room.

I snuck in quietly and carefully. My legs wobbled, and for a second, they felt extremely too weak to carry my weight.

I went into my closet, did a quick cleanup, and changed into an outfit that could blend in with the lie of going for an evening stroll. I gave myself a once-over at the dressing mirror, satisfied with the look.

I braced myself for the inevitable, rehearsing the lies I was going to tell. Stepping out from the closet, I said a silent prayer.

Back in the bedroom, I braced up in anticipation of the known, but surprises never seem to end.

I froze at the sight before me. My lips parted open in bewilderment. I tried saying something, making a sound even, but only muffled breaths came out.

I stood transfixed, too weak to move. My legs seemed immobile.