Chapter 2: Desire Left Wanting

Words : 1906 Updated : Oct 23rd, 2025

Strangely, Nancy wasn't angry at Mario Walton's reaction; a sly delight fluttered through her. She was already twenty-six, yet she could still make this young man's heart skip. Clearly, her charm was still very much alive. "Nancy, you feeling any better?" Mario breathed in the scent lingering on Nancy's skin and asked, dazed, almost dreamy. "Huh?" She snapped out of it. "Better… but my knee still hurts." Mario wasn't stupid. He caught the silky look in her bedroom eyes and didn't hesitate. His hand slid up her calf, exploring. "Ah, that tickles!" Nancy squeaked, tapped him lightly on the head, and was about to scold him when a sound came from outside. "Knock, knock, knock!" Both of them froze. As they did, Nancy's phone rang. It was Ryder Walton calling. "Hey, honey, why call so late? Is something wrong?" Nancy picked up, her voice soft. On the other end, Ryder sounded a little guilty, gave a sheepish laugh, and said, "Just got off work. I'm at the door and left my keys at the office. Can you come let me in?" "What?" Panic flickered across Nancy's face. She hadn't expected her husband to come home now. Thank goodness he didn't have his keys-otherwise he'd have walked in on her and Mario together, and there'd be no way to explain. "Okay, I'm coming," she said, hurriedly ended the call, gave Mario a wide-eyed, still-shaky look, and whispered, "Go-your cousin's back." She knit her brows and discreetly tugged at her underwear; fresh from the shower, everything clung and felt uncomfortable. Seeing Mario had already packed up the first-aid kit, she urged, "Go get some sleep." "Okay." Mario replied quickly and bolted from Nancy's bedroom. Nancy took a moment to collect herself, opened the door, and found Ryder Walton smiling at her wearily. He was about to speak, then noticed her damp hair. "Babe, it's late. You're still up?" "The power went out. It was too stuffy, so I took a quick shower," Nancy explained. "Oh." Ryder nodded, yawned, and headed into the bedroom to rest, exhausted from days of overtime. Meanwhile, in his room, Mario couldn't sleep. He clutched Nancy's lace panties in his hand and fought the urge to bring them to his nose. He swallowed hard. The urge clawed at him, with nowhere to go, and he slipped out barefoot, silent as a cat. He twisted the doorknob gently. Whispered voices drifted into the hallway. A faint glow spilled out from the opposite bedroom… The door was ajar. Nancy gave Ryder a smoldering look. "Ryder, we haven't done that for days…" "It's late. Don't wake Mario," Ryder said, hiding behind the excuse. A hurt look flashed across Nancy's face. "Once you start working, you leave early, come back late, or vanish for two, three days. Now you're home, and it's like you're not. Hmph." She flipped over, turned her back to Ryder, and sulked. Watching Nancy's enticing figure, Mario burned to burst in and "help." In his head, he muttered, "Ryder actually turned down his own wife-what a waste." Knowing he couldn't satisfy his wife left Ryder miserable. Seeing Nancy upset, he hurried to soothe her. "Babe, cut me a little slack, okay? We just landed a big contract. Everyone's slammed. I've been beat all day…" "Fine." Nancy shifted and buried her face in the pillow, still peeved. "Then go to sleep." Ryder didn't have much choice. He hugged his wife, slid his hand under her clothes, and kneaded her full, rounded curves as he coaxed, "Come on, don't be mad… See? I'm getting there…" Nancy gave a soft, sultry hum, her eyes glossy, though she kept up the pretense of annoyance. Ryder cupped her breasts, and his own desire surged. He might not have had the best stamina, but he wasn't exactly a monk; he usually held back for fear of bruising his pride. Now, desire caught hold, and he took the lead. "Here we go." Outside the door, Mario's heart thudded. His breath came heavy. He watched Ryder lift Nancy's nightdress bit by bit. In the dim room, by moonlight through the window, Mario could make out the perky curve of her butt. Nancy was lost in the moment, a sweet shiver running through her. She was about to turn when she noticed the door ajar-and a pair of dark, gleaming eyes watching. "Mario?" Panic flitted through Nancy. She was about to speak, but Ryder had already pulled her close. Mario hadn't expected to be caught. Their eyes met, and his pulse lurched. He swallowed again. Heat rushed through him; he wanted to pin Nancy beneath him and take her. Nancy felt the scorch of Mario's stare, and his burning gaze only fanned her desire-she wanted even more to be filled. She rolled and straddled Ryder, riding him, whispering, "Baby… love me." "Ah!" Ryder let out a guttural breath and met her movement, trying to keep up. Nancy cried out again. The long drought finally broke; her hands grasped for anything she could find. The sight made Mario swell painfully; it was his first time witnessing something so heady, and it felt like ants were crawling under his skin. All the blood rushed south. Without realizing, Mario had pulled down his zipper. He watched Nancy's body as she rode, those full, springy curves bouncing, up and down, up and down. His movements got faster, almost involuntary. He felt like he might burst. On the other side, Ryder felt the warm, velvety heaven envelop him and quickly began to flag. He clenched his jaw, driving forward, hoping speed would push Nancy over the edge. Just a bit more. Just a bit more. Just a bit more… He kept repeating it, teeth gritted, but he lost control. After only a few thrusts, he finished. "Ugh." Ryder let out a muffled groan as a hot rush of release hit his brain. Nancy fell short of climax. She frowned and, almost without thinking, glanced toward the door. Mario was still there. As the moment slipped away for Nancy, she looked again, as if by reflex. She saw Mario slowly pull up his pants, her panties still in his hand, and rise to leave. The sight shocked and shamed her into a blush. She noticed the obvious tent in his pants, and for a breathless moment, something inside her stirred, unmistakably alive.

Chapter 2: Desire Left Wanting

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