The narrow escape from the study two nights earlier still haunted Elena. Victoria had come home early, calling up the stairs just as Marcus was still buried deep inside her, his c*m slowly leaking down her thighs. They had barely managed to separate in time — Elena fleeing to her room on shaky legs while Marcus composed himself at his desk like nothing had happened. The lie sat heavy in her stomach ever since.
Tonight, the tension in the house felt unbearable.
Victoria was in the living room watching a documentary, wine glass in hand, occasionally calling out commentary to whoever was listening. Marcus had been quiet all evening, his eyes following Elena with that dark, patient hunger that made her thighs press together under the dinner table. She had worn another set of the lingerie ben
