IMPREGNATED BY MY HUSBAND'S TWIN II

My breath caught as I took him in, like I was seeing him for the first time.

He had to be over six feet, broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist and dark hair slicked back from the shower, still dripping.

My gaze dropped to his chest, freezing on the black ink etched there. It was a fierce tribal design, swirling like flames across his left pec, right over his heart. Connor didn't have tattoos. Or at least, he hadn't the last time I'd seen him shirtless, which felt like forever ago. Maybe he'd gotten it on one of those trips and kept it secret like everything else. The thought stung a little, but it also lit something up inside, like proof he wasn't the same boring guy anymore.

My eyes dipped lower, tracing the hard lines of his abs that were ridged and tight from whatever he did to stay in shape. And then to that happy trail that arrowed straight down into the towel wrapped low on his hips. It vanished under the white fabric, hinting at what bulged there, and my heart slammed harder in my chest. Fuck, just looking at that trail made my pussy clench, imagining my tongue following it all the way down.

I dragged my gaze back to his face. He looked shocked, and those blue eyes widened for a beat. His face twisted, not with hunger, but something uneasy, like he'd walked into the wrong room or something. He looked uncomfortable. Maybe because he was standing there with just a towel on while I was spread out like this. His lips parted, but nothing came out right away. I couldn't blame him; I'd thrown myself at him like a desperate slut and he was probably still in shock.

Nerves twisted in my gut, but I pushed them down and slid off the bed, standing on shaky legs. The stockings whispered against the floor as I stepped closer, my heart pounding so fast it echoed in my ears.

"Hey handsome," I whispered, and my voice came out soft and needy, like a plea.

I rose up on my tiptoes, pressing my body against his damp one, and brushed my lips over his. They were warm and tasted clean from the shower, minty almost. I parted my mouth and flicked my tongue out to tease the seam of his lips, begging him to let me in, to kiss me back like he used to... maybe.

He went stiff under me like a fucking board. His mouth stayed closed against mine as I kissed him. He didn't kiss me back. 

It shouldn’t have hurt that much, but it did. The rejection cracked open that same old hurt I'd carried for months. I stared past him for half a second, blinking hard, pretending the burn was nothing more than dryness, pretending my throat didn’t feel like it was closing in on itself.

I leaned back before he could and curved my lips into something that might pass for a smile if no one looked too closely. It felt brittle, like glass. Like it was one wrong breath away from shattering.

"When did you get home?" I asked, trying to sound casual, like my heart wasn't shattering all over again.

His eyes raked over me slowly, from my tousled hair down to the lace hugging my tits, the garters framing my thighs and right to my stockinged toes. Assessing, like he was seeing me for the first time. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking there, and I swore I saw heat flicker in those blues, warring with whatever held him back.

"I missed you guys so much," I said quietly stepping closer. My hand reached out and my fingers trailed over his damp chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady thump of his heart under that tattoo.

"You..." I murmured, then let my palm slide lower, over his abs, until I cupped him through the towel. "...and this guy here." His cock was thick under the fabric, already stirring, and fuck, it twitched against my hand, sending a thrill straight to my core.

He grabbed my wrist fast, yanking it away.

"Stop," he growled.

His was voice deeper than I remembered, like it came from somewhere primal. Maybe it was because of the shower, or maybe... yeah, he was getting turned on. That twitch didn't lie. My pussy throbbed in response and slickness soaked my thong even more.

"Why?" I breathed. "You're my husband. You haven't touched me in so long. I'm starving for you, Connor. Please."

He opened his mouth and his brow furrowed deeply. "I'm not—"

I cut him off, assuming the worst. He was going to give me that same old excuse. That he was not in the mood.

"I get it, you're not in the mood. You haven't been for the last eight months. But I want it so bad. Just fuck me this once, and you can go back to ignoring me. I don't care. I need you inside me now." Desperation made my voice crack, but I didn't stop.

I grabbed his stiff hand and pressed it to my breast, making him cup the soft swell through the lace. His palm was warm and calloused in a way I didn't remember, but it felt so good. I arched into it and my nipple hardened against his touch, begging for more.

Then I guided it lower, over my stomach, down to where I ached. My thong was drenched, and the thin fabric clung to my swollen lips, outlining every fold. His fingers brushed there, and I moaned softly, pushing them against my heat.

"Feel how wet I am for you," I whispered intimately. "I've been waiting for this all day long, touching myself thinking of your cock stretching me."

His hand trembled slightly and his fingertips grazed my clit through the lace, sending sparks up my spine. It was so fucking intimate, his hand there, feeling my heat pulse, my juices coating his skin even through the fabric. I ground against him slowly, showing him exactly what he did to me, how my pussy wept for his cock.

His breathing picked up, with his chest rising faster and those blue eyes slowly darkened. But then he jerked his hand back like I'd burned him, stepping away. I glanced down and I gasped. The towel had tented hard now, with his thick erection straining against it. My mouth watered at the sight. I wanted to taste him and feel that hardness on my tongue.

I reached for it again, but he backed up more. "We can't," he said in a strained voice. "This is not..."

"How can you say that?" I interrupted, my voice breaking with need. "When my pussy's dripping for you, and your cock's rock hard for me? Look at us... we're both ready. Don't deny it."

He hesitated and his eyes locked on mine, then flicked down to my body again. I saw my chance.

"Let me suck your dick," I pleaded, stepping closer. "You've never let me before. And since you were my first, I've never sucked anyone off. Please, let me try. If you don't like it, tell me to stop."

He stared at me and shock flashed across his face.

"What?" The word came out low, almost like he couldn't believe that I'd never wrapped my lips around a cock.

"Please?" I begged, dropping to my knees before he could shut me down.

The carpet dug into my skin roughly but I didn't give a shit. My hands went to his towel and my fingers hooked the edge tightly. He held down on it like he was fighting to keep it in place, but I tugged harder and it slipped free, dropping to the floor with a soft thud.