“I’m sorry, Beverley.”

 

Mr. Davis pushed Beverley until her back rested against the bottom of the sofa. He kissed her passionately on the lips. His hands held and pressed Beverley’s waist to keep her sitting on the floor.

 

“No, please.” Beverley shook her head. Her eyes were glazed over. She felt sad and deeply tormented.

 

Her conscience wanted to resist, but under the influence of the aphrodisiac, her body really wanted a man’s touch. Her defenses were weak against the aphrodisiac, and she was afraid it would control her.

 

“Mr. Davis, I’m married.” Beverley refused as Mr. Davis tried to touch her breasts. She resisted his hand as much as...