Tom McCarthy
For one fleeting second, as Tom thrust deep into Emily’s welcoming body in missionary position, a sharp pang of guilt pierced through the haze of lust and anger clouding his mind.
He looked down at her flushed face, her eyes half-closed in pleasure, her lips parted as she moaned softly beneath him.
For that brief moment, he wished things weren’t like this.
He wished he was still the man who came home every evening to a peaceful marriage, the one who once believed in the sacred promises he had made at the altar.
The weight of what he was doing ...humiliating Sara so cruelly while buried inside another woman ...settled heavily on his chest, making his movements falter for just a heartbeat.
But then the memories rushed back in, hot and bitter, drowning the guilt instantl
