His head was bowed like he was buttering his toast, but the smirk on his lips gave him away. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.When I tried to shift my chair back just a little, he leaned forward, reaching for the butter dish in the middle of the table. His hand brushed against mine, warm and quick, like an accident—but it wasn’t. My skin tingled where he touched me, and I had to drop my eyes again before his father caught the way I almost jumped.“Something wrong?” his father’s voice cut through the tension.I jolted, almost knocking over my glass.“N-no,” I stammered quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just… the toast is a bit hard.”He grunted, not really paying attention, and went back to eating. Relief washed through me, but only for a moment. Because under the table, Jamie’s foot nudged mine again, slow and teasing this time. He dragged it along my ankle, sending shive
The next morning, I sat stiffly at the dining table, the edge of my chair pressing into the back of my legs. My hands clutched my coffee cup like it was the only thing keeping me steady. The steam had already faded, leaving the drink lukewarm, but I still held it close, raising it to my lips now and then just so I had something to do.The plate in front of me was filled with scrambled eggs and toast, but my stomach twisted too tightly for food. I poked at it with my fork, pushing the pieces around, making it look like I was eating. I didn’t want Jamie to notice how nervous I was.But I couldn’t help it—I felt so awkward.Shame pressed down on me like a heavy blanket, smothering me with every breath. I had watched him. I had stood outside his bathroom last night, staring through that gap in the door while he showered, while the steam rolled over him. The memory made my cheeks burn, even now. I wanted to forget it, to pretend it never happened, b
The steam clung to my skin, making me feel sticky and hot all over. My breath came fast, shallow, and I pressed my lips together to keep any sound from escaping. Shame curled in my stomach, but right beside it was something hotter, sharper, something that made my thighs squeeze together.I told myself to stop. To turn away. To run back to my room before I did something foolish. But my body didn’t listen.My eyes stayed glued to him as he turned slightly, giving me another view. The lines of his back, the way the muscles shifted as he reached up to scrub his hand over his neck, soap lather sliding across his skin before the water washed it away. His movements were slow, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. He had no idea I was there.Every little detail pulled me deeper. The way water drops slid down his arms. The way his chest rose and fell with each breath. The way his skin gleamed under the stream. My lips tingled as I remembered the kiss we had shared earlier, and a r
I plunged a finger inside myself, imagining it was his hard cock filling me up. I fucked myself with my hand, imagining it was him driving into me, claiming me. I wanted him so badly, needed to feel him inside me."Oh god, Jamie," I moaned, adding another finger, pumping them in and out of my wet heat. "Yes, just like that..."I used my other hand to rub my clit, the dual stimulation pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I could feel my orgasm building, my muscles tensing, my breath coming in short gasps."That's it, baby," I panted, fucking myself harder, faster. "Make me come. Fuck me harder!"With a cry, I came undone, my pussy clenching around my fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over me. I rode out the intense sensations, lost in the fantasy of Jamie's touch.But as the aftershocks subsided, I was left with an aching emptiness. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough, not when I craved the real thing - Jamie's hands on me, his mouth on my breasts, his cock deep inside m
My heart ached at those words. I wanted to believe him, to let the warmth of them sink into me, but I couldn’t. My husband hadn’t called me beautiful in so long that the word felt foreign, like a lie meant to soothe me. I shook my head quickly, my eyes darting away, fresh tears threatening to fall. “Don’t… don’t say that,” I murmured, my voice breaking. “You’re only trying to make me feel better.”But Jamie didn’t move back. His hand cupped the side of my face now, his thumb stroking my cheek gently, and I felt trapped between wanting to pull away and wanting to melt into his touch.“Then let me show you,” he whispered.The words sent a rush through me, confusing and terrifying all at once. Before I could react, before I could even take a full breath, his lips pressed against mine.I froze. My entire body stiffened, my mind screaming that this was wrong, so wrong. He was my hus
The living room felt too big and too empty around me. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in a dull light that painted everything gray. I sat curled up on the couch with my knees tucked close to me, the soft hum of the fridge in the kitchen the only sound besides the steady tick-tock of the wall clock. My phone rested on my lap, the bright screen still showing the message from my husband.Business trip. Back in a few days.That was all he wrote. No “I miss you.” No “I love you.” Not even a simple smiley face like he used to send when we first married. My fingers tightened around the phone until my knuckles turned white. A part of me wanted to throw it across the room, but instead I just locked the screen and placed it gently on the table, as if the phone itself might shatter me if I wasn’t careful.But I knew the truth. I wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t on some trip. He was probably with her—one of them. Maybe the tall blonde, maybe the girl with the red lipstick, maybe another new one I h