Sometimes I wonder how I got here. The guilt claws at me every time I come home to my husband’s smile, knowing where I’ve been all day. Gray’s hands on me, his cock buried deep inside my pussy, my body betraying the love I have for the man waiting for me. I hate myself for it, but I can’t stop. The way Gray fucks me—like he owns me—makes my skin crawl, but god, my body craves it. I’m torn between disgust and the sick pleasure of being used. What does that make me?