9. Impulse

It means nothing, he tells himself. It means nothing at all. It's a betrayal of his beautiful Lucy, but it's not the biggest betrayal. He's not given his heart away. That still belongs to his yellow haired angel. He's only satisfying his needs. Lust and love are two very different things. It is possible for them to coincide together.

It's just something he has to do, an impulse he has to act on. He doesn't like it when she claws desperately at his back, rolls her hips against his. He doesn't enjoy it when she runs her tongue along his collarbone, nipping playfully at his flushed skin, and he most certainly feels nothing when she spasms in his arms, when she draws him closer with her legs, when she groans his name so loudly he's sure the whole of London hears.

He really does hate it.

She is just the stupid impulse, invading his mind, making him betray the memory of his wife.

An impulse he is powerless to resist nonetheless.