After Hours: Her Secret, His Visceral Desire

He pushed his fingers deeper, curling them just right. She moaned loudly, her body convulsing around his hand. He bent down and kissed her neck, his tongue trailing down to her collarbone. He could feel her orgasm building, her walls tightening around his fingers. He curled his fingers just a little bit more, and she came, her body shaking with the force of it.

He slid his fingers out of her and looked down at her, his eyes locked on hers. She was still moaning, her body still trembling. He bent down and kissed her, his tongue slipping between her lips as he pushed his fingers back inside her. This time he went slow, curling his fingers just right. She moaned louder, her legs tightening around his waist.

He slid his fingers deeper, curling them just right. She wrapped her

Chapter 4: The Visceral Letdown: His Body Betrays Him

She was on her knees in front of him, his wife's lips on his chest, her hands roaming his waist. He could feel her tongue sliding over his nipple, taste her in his mouth, and hear her quiet moans as she ground her hips against his thighs. For a moment, her words had drained him of all feeling. But the second her lips left his skin, his body shot to life.

She was doing it again. Lying to him, hiding her past, and playing with his emotions like a cheap toy. He had prided himself on being a hard man. A man who could handle the truth. But his body had a mind of its own, and right now it was screaming at him to forget the conversation and give in to the woman in front of him.

She pulled back and looked up at him, a smirk playing on her lips. "You know you want it, baby. You want me to tell you more." He reached down and pulled her up by the hair, bringing her mouth to his neck. "Tell me," he growled, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. "Tell me the truth." She hesitated, then began to speak.

Flashback: High school prom. The senior class was dancing in the gym, the band playing a slow song. He had seen her, standing in the corner with her date, looking at him with a smile on her face. He had walked over and stood behind her, putting his arms around her waist. She had turned and looked up at him, her eyes locked on his. "You were right," she had whispered. "I don't love him." He had pulled her close and kissed her hard, ignoring the protests of his date. They had gone to the boys' bathroom, locked the door, and made love on a pile of janitor's supplies.