Craving My Sister’s Hot Husband

SERAPHINA “Quiet.” He drags rough fingertips down the inside of my thigh, stopping at my ankle and yanking my leg up higher so my heel digs into the counter and my pussy is completely spread and exposed. “Stay fucking spread. Don’t twitch. Don’t close. I want this sloppy hole on full display.” I’m shaking already, clit throbbing visibly. He grabs the scotch bottle without looking away from my cunt. He tips it slowly. Cold liquor hits my belly in a thick stream, splashing, running fast down my sides, pooling in the dip above my mound before dripping right over my clit and mixing with the mess already leaking out of me. I hiss at the chill. It burns a little where it hits my overheated skin. He slams the bottle down, and his mouth crashes onto my stomach first—big, sloppy licks scooping up the scotch, tongue flat and greedy, dragging over every inch until he’s following the rivulets lower. He bites the soft skin just above my clit, hard enough to sting, then soothes it with a l

DOMINICI can still taste her pussy juice on my tongue.That’s the first thought that hits me as I stand at the stove, stirring marinara sauce like a good husband. Like a man who didn’t just have his face buried between his wife’s twenty-one-year-old sister’s legs couple of hours ago.Could she be sleeping now or will she join us for dinner? My mind races. I want to be near her every fucking timeMy cock is still half-hard. Has been since Elena’s voice shattered the moment and I had to pull away from Seraphina, leave her trembling and unfinished on the counter where I’m supposed to prepare family meals.I scrubbed my mouth raw afterward. Used mouthwash until my gums bled. But I can still taste her—that sweet, addictive taste that’s nothing like anything I’ve ever had before. Nothing like Elena. Nothing like any woman who came before.Seraphina tastes like sin. Like everything I shouldn’t want but can’t stop craving.My cock twitches just thinking about it.“That smells amazing, baby,”

SERAPHINAWalking hurts.I have to keep my legs slightly apart as I make my way down the stairs, each step a reminder of what Dominic did to me last night. How he fucked me on his desk like an animal that had been sex starved for decades. How he pounded into me with a brutality that was more punishment than pleasure, more possession than passion.My inner thighs are sore. My hips ache where his fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises. And between my legs, I’m so tender I can barely stand the friction of my underwear.Every twinge, every ache, every uncomfortable step is proof that he couldn’t control himself. That I drive him to the edge of sanity and push him right over.Elena is already in the kitchen when I finally make it downstairs, and she looks up from the counter where she’s organizing her medication bottles.“Morning, sunshine,” she says, smiling. “I was just about to come get you. Can you help me with these? My hands are shaking today.”“Of course.” I cross to her, tryin

SERAPHINAI park in the visitor lot and sit there for a moment, staring up at the sleek glass building that houses Ashcroft Development. Dominic’s empire. The company he built from nothing.I flip down the visor mirror and check my appearance. My makeup needs touching up after the drive, so I reapply my lipstick—a shade darker than I’d normally wear during the day. The kind that makes men look at your mouth and forget what they were saying.I adjust my dress, hiking it up slightly so it sits higher on my thighs. Then I lean forward and push my breasts up in my bra, making sure they’re perfectly positioned. The neckline is modest enough for an office visit, but low enough to be interesting.I grab the container of food and coffee Elena packed and step out of the car. The walk to the building entrance is uncomfortable, my legs still slightly apart because walking normally hurts too much. But I don’t care. The pain is delicious.The lobby is all marble and glass, expensive and imposing—e