When his other hand goes lower, I already know what he'll do, and I'm waiting for it impatiently. When his fingers meet my clit and start petting it with fast circles, I know my new, never experienced before penetration orgasm is creating its way down my body.
It is gaining its strength, and when it finally crashes over me, it feels like a thousand electric currents hit my body at the same time, sending pleasure to places I never even knew existed.
I scream, and my voice echoes from the marble walls of this small room. I bite Josh's shoulder to hide another scream when I feel his own orgasm start, and he begins to shake.
Josh growls, pressing his body harder against mine as he collapses. His hands and legs are shaking as I feel the ropes and ropes of cum filling me.
I wonder how he is even able to stand. My hands and legs are so weak, I can barely keep from falling.
But he doesn't loosen his grip as the orgasm crashes over him, holding me even tighter. His strokes inside my hole make me experience a thousand small orgasms following the first big bang.
We both breathe heavily, panting for breath after what just happened. The water is flowing on our faces as we look at each other again, happy and satisfied.
"I love you, Kendall," he whispers, looking into my eyes, "and I've never told that to anyone before."
I know. I don't know how but I just do. I know that he hasn’t said it to anyone else, I know that he genuinely loves me, and I know that everything will be okay.
"I love you, too," I whisper back, placing my head on his shoulder.
Epilogue
Kendall
Ten Years Later
I know I shouldn't be here. Even though it can be dangerous—if I catch him cheating, there's no way back—I still can't help myself. I park my car not far away from my husband's.
I called him twenty minutes ago, and he told me he's still working. But I had been waiting next to his restaurant for an hour already. I saw that he left with a tall brunette right after my call, and I followed his car.
Now they've just entered a hotel lobby, and I try to decide whether I want to go in or not.
Do I want to know if my husband is cheating on me? Of course, I don't; nobody wants to. But am I able to forget everything I saw and pretend that nothing happened? No way!
That's why I rapidly get out of the car and follow them.
As I walk, I try to remember the exact moment when it all went wrong in our relationship. I thought we were happy. At least, I was.
We had already been through the tough parts, or so I thought. After we graduated high school, we moved to England. We rented a small apartment in Oxfordshire since I’d gotten into Oxford Medical School. Josh used a train to go to London five times a week to his culinary academy. He woke up at five-thirty to get there in time but didn't want to move closer to school so I could sleep longer. That's what kind of man he was.
His parents supported his decision to become a chef, letting him spend his trust fund the way he preferred. But when Josh graduated from the academy, he decided to wait before opening his own restaurant. He wanted to learn more by practicing with others.
Josh worked for four years in someone else’s restaurant before he finally decided to open his. He opened a small café at first, but when his desserts became so popular that there was an hour-long waiting line, he decided it was time.
I graduated from medical school, and we both moved to London. I started working at the local hospital while he opened one, and then more cafés, becoming one of the most famous pastry chefs in town. We were both following our dreams.
When I finally finished the internship and started working as a reproductive doctor, we both barely had time for our personal life. That was when I thought our tough days were, which we left behind because we were so in love—somehow managing to spend equal time at work and at home.
About eighteen months ago, we had our first child, a girl named Angelina. She's so cute, looking exactly like her father. They adore each other, and no matter how hard Josh works, he never gets tired of being with her.
I wanted to go back to work after a year of being with her. But fate decided otherwise; I got pregnant again. I wasn't shocked, I was happy. I know that I can go back to work after these two grow up.
And now I'm a five-month pregnant woman with an infant waiting with my mother at home, whose husband is cheating on her at this five-star London hotel.
I guess he just lost his passion for me because of how I look. Or maybe because I'm mostly staying at home while he visits all those reality shows where he's a judge. He became famous right after the first episode. He has so many fans, I should've guessed earlier that he was cheating on me.
But I found out only two weeks ago by accident. I wanted to surprise him, asking if he was still at work. He said he was, but I found out when I got there he’d left an hour before. I went home, and he came in hours later. I said nothing that day, deciding to follow him. He hasn't lied to me any more until now.
I feel my eyes getting wet from that thought. I didn't want to cry. I wanted to yell and run away. I wanted to make him regret he did it, to show him that I don't really care, and I'll be happy anyway, with or without him.