"Don't be embarrassed," Leonor uttered from where she sat on the couch, Desmond standing over her though he was facing away with a hand on his forehead.
He stared down at his problem, ashamed that he couldn't get a grip on his desire better than that. Normally she wasn't awake when he was calming himself down.
That night was different because she said she wanted to spend time with him alone— his beautiful, innocent wife who said words without ulterior motives and his selfish body that didn't care.
It was like having a second puberty. She awoken his desire when he was a younger man and when she returned to his life, she awakened it again. He felt volatile and insatiable.
"It's embarrassing that I'm in my mid-twenties and can't control myself," he argued.
