Deep Inside
The room was dim, only moonlight spilling through tall windows, illuminating the lust in his eyes.
He took her there, between first editions and vintage leather-bound tomes, her moans swallowed by his mouth.
Afterward, she collapsed onto the reading couch, legs trembling.
“I can’t keep doing this,” she whispered.
“You will.”
He kissed her neck like a promise.
.
.
.
The garden was the next mistake.
He met her there just after midnight, while she was trimming the moonflowers like a good little housekeeper. He came up behind her, wrapped her hair around his fist, and kissed her so hard her knees buckled.