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We stay in the dining room for another drink, then it’s time for William to take Edith back to the city. I consider inviting her to spend the night and leave bright and early. But I’d much rather not deal with another one of Paloma’s fit of jealousy. I still haven’t forgotten how she almost left the house this afternoon. Didn’t she learn her lesson last time she tried to escape and fell in a frozen pond?

Fuck. Escape? My life has really taken a turn if that’s the right word to use.

“Thank you for a lovely evening.” Edith kisses my cheek, then ambles to the front door.

I see her out, then wave goodbye when she climbs into the back seat of my black sedan and William shuts the car door. I linger in the foyer, trying to make up my mind about the rest of the night. Work is the distraction I need. But I can’t focus knowing Paloma is in my bed naked right about now.

On my way upstairs, I fish Paloma’s panties from my pocket and smell them again. By the time I reach our suite, I’m hard as a rock again for her. I open the door quietly and blink to adjust to the firelight. Like every night, she pretends to be asleep. Gosh, she’s so fucking perfect. I amble to her side of the bed, removing my shoes and the rest of my clothes as I go.

I tower over her, aching to touch her. She lies on her back, with her face relaxed to the side on her pillow. Slowly, I pull the covers off her nude body, and the thumping in my chest picks up the pace.

Let her be.

The usual tiny voice in my head reminds me that staying away is the best thing for both of us. What did Edith call her? A vortex?

The way I’m drawn to her is not normal. I hover the pads of my fingers down her chest and stomach.

Let her be.

I stop to inhale, pumping my cock instead of touching her. Desperate desire flushes my system, inundating my brain and all logic along with it.

In another time.

Yeah, in another time, maybe she and I would’ve met at the ballet, maybe we would’ve met on the train from Bedford into the city, maybe our parents would’ve been real friends. Maybe we wouldn’t be enemies.

“In another time,” I murmur and give into my sin.

I brush the back of my fingers down the seam of her pussy. Her white underwear is wet. Smiling, I brace my knee on the mattress. “Did you touch yourself while I was downstairs entertaining our guest, Little Dove?”

She languidly shifts slightly toward me, eyes closed. The lean muscles on her thigh beg for my attention. Just one hit, I tell myself, like the fucking addict I’ve become. I crave her body as much as I crave air.

I hook my thumbs in her underwear and pull them down past her knees. A storm brewing in my chest shoves me in her direction, and then I’m lost, all logical thought gone. Sliding my hands up her inner thighs, I part them to expose her pussy. The bed dips under my weight as I nestle myself between her legs.

“Just one kiss, Little Dove. Do you understand?” I glance up at her.

“Hmm.” Her fingers brush her temple as her chest rises and falls with every breath, but she doesn’t wake.

I open-mouth kiss her bare pussy. Downstairs, I thought her scent was all I needed to get me through tonight. But I was so fucking wrong. A taste of the real thing is all I want. I drink from her, sucking and nibbling around her hard bud. It’s pathetic this desperate need that threatens to crack my chest open.

Her hips come up to meet my tongue. I press on her thighs with both my hands, parting them even more. She trembles in my arms as if she’s about to orgasm. I make myself stop and press my forehead to her mound.

What the fuck am I doing?

I bring my knees in and sit on my ankles. Her legs press hard around me as I rub my shaft on her seam. “You are so fucking beautiful. I can’t stand it.” I grip her waist and move up to cup her breast, rolling her taut nipple with my thumb. “You are driving me beyond the point of insanity.”

What is there after insanity if not ache and ruin? That’s what she’s done to me. And I’m too far gone at this point to even care. Only a fool would think that sitting here—watching my wife sleep, eating from her pussy like she’s my last meal, trying to decide if I should fuck her already or not—is the behavior of a man who hasn’t lost all reason and control.

I brace my hands on either side of her body and bend down to suck on her nipples. Her breath hitches, and I suck even harder. My cock throbs painfully, while desire tugs at the base of my balls. It’s agony to want her this much. To know that the more I give in, the faster I will lose her. Because I can’t keep this lie going for much longer. She has to know who her father really is. She has to know what she is to me, why she’s here, why all this regret.

Sliding my knee under her thighs, I press flush my cock to her entrance. Sweat beads roll down my back from the effort of resisting her. But who am I kidding. I’m already hers, hooked. She won this round the minute she said she was heading out, leaving me.

I would do anything to keep her.

She’s straddling me now. My tip is wet from her juices, while she waits for the storm inside my chest to ravish everything in its path or die down.

“Look at me when I fuck your sweet cunt, Little Dove.” I pant a breath, our noses inches away.

Her golden eyes fly open as a tear rolls down her temple. As always, she’s pure fucking ecstasy. I reach between our bodies, part her pussy lips and prowl into her with all the desire I had to stifle when I left her in the shower to finish on her own last night.