Sinful desire
“Please… don’t stop…”
The desperate plea had barely left my lips. Before I could even finish my statement, Matthew had already groaned, shuddered, and finished.
A second later, he fell onto my body like a log of wood.
The heavy, suffocating weight of my husband crushed the air from my lungs, but it was nothing compared to the weight of the disappointment crushing my soul. I lay there beneath him, staring blankly up at the ceiling, my body aching with a restless, unfulfilled fire. I felt incredibly tired. Exhausted, not from passion, but from the sheer misery of my existence.