#Chapter 32 Wrestling Desires
Charles
I was a fucking liar.
I had no idea what the hell I was getting into when I started this, but I’d said it, and I had to stand by it. The growing connection I felt towards Grace was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Her presence had woven its way into the fabric of my thoughts, and her scent lingered in every corner of my mind. As much as I tried to deny it, I was undeniably drawn to her – a magnetic pull that defied reason.
That kiss felt like sparks on kindling or gasoline on an already roaring flame.
But the very idea of succumbing to my desires was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the thought of being close to Grace, of holding her and feeling her lips against mine, plunging into her body until she went hoarse from screaming in pleasure, was a tantalizing fantasy that played out in my mind. On the other hand, I couldn’t ignore the complex intricacies of our situation – her recent divorce, her distress, and that damned promise.
I had to be the only man

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