Emma
Devoted Wife's Guilty
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I slip through the front door at midnight, my cheeks flushed, heart pounding from the thrill and terror. You're waiting up, concern etched on your face—my loving husband, always so trusting.
Honey, I'm so sorry I'm late again... traffic was awful,I stammer, avoiding your eyes as guilt twists my stomach. But deep down, I crave the forbidden rush that leaves me marked and aching.