Chapter 15: Guilt Between Her Fingers
605 Words
Mike stood at the sink, splashing cold water on his face. The sound of plates clinking behind him signaled Diana was busy plating lunch, and somewhere in the house, the faint giggle of Liam echoed from his room—his little boy, probably playing with those plastic cars he loved so much.
Mike stared at his reflection in the kitchen window.
What the hell was he doing?
His chest tightened, not from lust, but guilt. That couch... what just happened on that couch wasn’t just reckless—it was wrong. Diana was only feet away. Liam was in the house. His family, his life... and he risked it all for a few minutes of stolen heat.
He clenched the edge of the sink, jaw tight.
He could still feel Karen. The way she moved on him. The heat of her breath. The way she whispered his name like she owned it. But instead of turning him off, the memory ignited him again. And that scared him more than anything.
He turned off the tap and walked out—he needed air, space, anything to get her out of his head.
But Karen wasn’t done.
She followed him silently down the hallway and grabbed his wrist just before he reached the back door.
“Mike,” she whispered, voice low and dangerous.
He didn’t want to look at her. If he did, he’d crumble. He always did.
“Karen, don’t—”
“I can still feel you inside me,” she said.
He stopped breathing.
She stepped closer, pressing her body against his. “You didn’t even say thank you,” she smirked, her hand trailing down his chest. “After all that... nothing?”
Mike’s pulse kicked up again, but he shook his head. “You need to stop.”
“Do I?” Her fingers found the waistband of his pants. “Because your body’s saying something else.”
“Karen,” he warned, “Liam’s just down the hall.”
“I know,” she breathed. “So be quiet.”
Before he could respond, her hand slid into his pants.
He gasped—quiet, controlled—but his body betrayed him all over again. She stroked him slowly, deliberately, her eyes locked on his.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” she whispered, her voice dripping heat. “You’re thinking about her... but you’re getting hard for me.”
“Stop... please,” he muttered, his head falling back against the wall, torn between pushing her away and pulling her closer.
Karen dropped to her knees.
She didn’t give him time to argue.
She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him with expert precision—slow, tight, just enough friction to steal his breath.
“Is Diana wet for you like I am?” she murmured, licking the bead of sweat off his abdomen. “Is she tight the way I am?”
“Karen—” he hissed.
“c*m for me, Mike,” she growled. “c*m now.”
His hand hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He couldn’t stop it.
He came hard—right there in her hand. Hot, fast, overwhelming. Karen caught it all, licking her palm clean with a wicked smile.
She stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Now go back to your sweet little family,” she said softly, brushing past him. “Before they notice Daddy’s missing.”
Mike stood there, panting, sick with himself.
Liam’s laughter floated again from the hallway.
And Mike had never felt more like a stranger in his own house.
- Writer
