I feel Kolya come right on my heels. His heat, sticky and unlike all the other heat around us, fills me up. Then his thrusting slows. Eases. Stops.
He reaches out and cuts off the flow of water.
Just like that, a creeping sense of wrongness follows. When it was hot and wet and steamy, this felt okay. Now that the cold is coming, the clarity is coming with it.
A random man would have been bad enough. But I chose a man who I knew was a murderer. A man without any qualms about killing in cold blood.
Worse still, he’s the brother of the man whose baby I’m carrying. Adrian has been buried—what, how many weeks ago now? Time has lost all meaning. Whatever the answer, I know that it’s not nearly long enough to warrant s*x with another man. Not nearly long enough to justify f*****g his brother.
