Tonight, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, my body still humming from Gray’s rough hands and the way he made me beg for his cock. But it’s not him I’m thinking about—it’s my husband. His touch used to set me on fire, his kisses would leave me breathless. Now, all I feel is guilt when he tries to love me. My skin remembers his hands, but my mind is poisoned by the things I’ve let Gray do to me. I crave my husband’s innocence, the way he used to worship my body without demanding anything in return. But I’m too far gone, aren’t I? My pussy still aches from Gray’s grip, and I hate myself for it.