Page 38 of The Honest Affair

But he didn’t give me more. Instead, he fell over me again, insistent on proximity as he pounded into me. His grunts were animalistic, his teeth on my neck carnivorous. Matthew devoured me with every harsh thrust, and I took it, I cried out for it, I shook through every deep, penetrative motion.

My orgasm overtook me with a jolt, forcing my mouth open in a long silent scream as I spasmed in his arms. Matthew slipped an arm around my waist and hauled me up to his chest so I was sheltered over the railing in his arms while we both shook together.

“Oh God,” he muttered over and over again. “Oh God, oh God.”

He started murmuring something else into the back of my hair, something unintelligible, peppered occasionally with words like “grace” and “sinners.” Before I could stop them, tears welled up and just as quickly slipped down my face.

Our bodies seized together as we fell apart completely. And then, maybe a few minutes later, maybe hours, they eventually softened into nothing.

I collapsed against the railing, and Matthew fell too, catching himself only on his arms on either side of me as he slipped out. My skirt fell, no doubt a wrinkled mess. His jacket had long fallen from my shoulders to the ground, but it wasn’t until he stooped to pick it up again that I felt truly cold.

“I need—I need to go,” I stuttered as I stepped away, doing my best to smooth my skirt back into place. Suddenly I felt terrible. This wasn’t me. Or maybe it was—and perhaps that was even worse.

Matthew looked up from where he was trying to redo his tie and vest. When had I torn those off? At some point, I realized vaguely, it had happened. But I had no memory of anything other than my desire.

And now my shame.

My eyes were bleary. His were sharp, yet unfocused.

“What?” he asked as he struggled with a few buttons. “Nina, just wait a goddamn minute, all right?”

But I couldn’t. I shook my head, letting my newly shorn hair tousle around my face like a limp curtain. Heat was rising, an uncomfortable, humiliated flush chasing away all the beautiful pleasure that had been there before.

“No,” I whispered as I backed quickly toward the door. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

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