The house was quiet again that night after Victoria had gone to bed. Elena lay in her own bed, staring at the ceiling, the soft glow of her bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room. Her body was still humming from the hours she had spent in Marcus’s study earlier that day — the way he had used her, filled her, claimed her again and again on his desk. She could still feel the dull ache between her legs, the lingering wetness of his cum slowly leaking out of her despite the shower she had taken.

Guilt crashed over her like a tidal wave.

What the hell am I...