Chapter 4

The morning light filtered through the kitchen blinds, casting soft stripes across the marble island where Sarah was flipping pancakes. The smell of coffee and bacon filled the air — warm, domestic, everything Alex used to find comforting. Today it felt like a cage.

He sat at the table in sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, trying to look relaxed while his body still ached in the best and worst ways. Every shift in his chair reminded him of the scratches down his back and the delicious soreness in his muscles from how hard he’d fucked Jordan against that hotel door, over the desk, and then for two more rounds in that bed.

Sarah slid a plate in front of him — perfectly golden pancakes, fresh fruit, and syrup. She leaned down to kiss his cheek, her robe slipping open just enough to show the curve of her breast. Six months ago that sight would have stirred him instantly. This morning his cock barely twitched. It was still half-hard from the filthy photo Jordan had sent at 2:30 a.m.

“You were tossing and turning all night,” Sarah said, sitting across from him with her own plate. “Work stressing you out that much?”

Alex forced a smile and took a sip of coffee. “Just a big project. Deadlines are tight.”

He cut into the pancakes, but his mind was somewhere else — replaying the moment he’d had Jordan bent over the desk, slamming into them from behind while they moaned his name loud enough to risk the neighboring rooms hearing. The way their pussy had clenched so perfectly when they came the third time, milking every drop from him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Once. Twice.

He ignored it.

Sarah’s eyes flicked to his lap. “You can check it. I know you’re busy.”

“It’s nothing important.” But he pulled the phone out anyway, angling the screen away from her.

**Jordan:** *Woke up still sore. Fingered myself thinking about your cock stretching me open. Want to see?*

Another photo followed — Jordan in the hotel bathroom mirror, fingers buried deep, their expression pure sin.

Alex’s cock jumped to full attention under the table. He locked the screen quickly, but not before heat rushed to his face.

“You okay?” Sarah asked, tilting her head. “You look flushed.”

“Just the coffee,” he lied smoothly, shifting in his seat to hide the growing bulge in his sweatpants. “It’s hot.”

Sarah studied him for a second longer than usual. Then she shrugged and went back to eating. But Alex noticed the small frown between her brows. She wasn’t stupid. They’d been married eight years — she could read him better than most.

As they finished breakfast, Sarah stood to clear the plates. Alex’s phone buzzed again. This time he excused himself to the bathroom, heart pounding.

**Jordan:** *Miss the way you growled my name while you came inside me. When can I have you again? I’m already wet just typing this.*

Alex leaned against the bathroom sink, breathing hard. He typed back quickly:

**Alex:** *Next week. Same hotel. Be ready to scream for me.*

He deleted the entire conversation, splashed cold water on his face, and tried to will his erection down. When he came back out, Sarah was loading the dishwasher.

“I was thinking,” she said casually, “maybe we could do something this weekend. Just us. It feels like we haven’t had real time together in weeks.”

Guilt slammed into Alex like a truck. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

But even as he said it, his mind was already planning how to carve out more time for Jordan. The danger was becoming addictive — the lies, the risk, the way Jordan made him feel alive in a way his comfortable marriage no longer did.

The rest of the morning passed in a haze of normalcy. Alex worked from his home office, answering emails and sketching designs, but every few minutes his thoughts drifted back to the hotel. The way Jordan had begged. The way they’d called themselves his whore while he filled them over and over.

By early afternoon, Sarah knocked on the office door.

“I’m running to the grocery store. Need anything?”

“I’m good,” Alex said. As soon as her car pulled out of the driveway, he grabbed his phone and called Jordan.

The moment they picked up, Alex’s voice dropped low. “You’re playing a dangerous game sending those photos while I’m home with her.”

Jordan’s laugh was low and filthy. “Did you get hard at the breakfast table? Tell me the truth.”

“Rock hard,” Alex admitted. “Had to hide it from my wife.”

“Mmm. I’m touching myself right now thinking about it. Want to hear?”

Before Alex could answer, soft, wet sounds came through the speaker — Jordan’s fingers sliding in and out of their soaked pussy. Their breathing grew heavier, little moans escaping.

“Fuck, Jordan…” Alex groaned, palming himself through his pants.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me next week,” Jordan whispered. “Be detailed. I’m so close already.”

Alex leaned back in his chair and described every filthy thing he wanted — pinning them against the window this time, fucking them where anyone might see, making them ride his face until they soaked him, then bending them over and coming so deep they’d feel it for days.

Jordan came with a sharp cry of his name. The sound nearly pushed Alex over the edge.

But then he heard the garage door opening.

Sarah was back early.

“Shit — I have to go,” Alex hissed. He ended the call just as the front door opened.

Sarah walked in carrying grocery bags, smiling brightly. “I got your favorite ice cream. Thought we could watch a movie tonight and—”

She stopped in the doorway of the office, staring at him.

Alex was flushed, breathing uneven, one hand still subtly adjusting himself under the desk. The scent of his own arousal lingered faintly in the small room.

Sarah’s smile faltered. “Alex… is everything okay?”

He stood up, trying to look normal. “Yeah. Just got off a stressful call.”

She nodded slowly, but her eyes lingered on his face a beat too long. Then she turned and headed to the kitchen.

Alex let out a shaky breath.

This was spiraling. The guilt was there — heavy and real — but the thrill was stronger. He already knew he wouldn’t stop.

Later that evening, as he and Sarah cuddled on the couch watching a movie, his phone vibrated silently in his pocket.

**Jordan:** *I can still taste you. Hurry up and make next week happen… or I might show up at your office.*