LOGINWhat happens when the wrong twin touches you exactly the right way? Ciara has spent years craving passion her husband never gives. One night, in the dark, she gets it—fingers, lips, release so intense she sees stars. Only it wasn’t Simon. It was Cain. The twin she never knew existed. The one who’s rougher and hungrier. For seven years, Cain watched Ciara from the shadows—his brother’s perfect wife, the woman he could never have until the night she mistook him for Simon… and begged for more. Now he’s moved in and the mansion feels smaller every day. She tells herself it’s wrong, she tells herself to stop but when the lights go out and the house is quiet… …her body remembers who made her cum alive.
View MoreCIARA'S POV I totally forget what I came here for. All I can see is a tattoo, sweaty abs and a V-shaped that was lost somewhere beneath his waistband— "My face is up here." He snaps his fingers. Oh! I lift my head to meet his face. "Can you turn down the noise? I need to get work done upstairs." "No." He didn't even think about it. "I'm not dancing here either. I need to get work done." "Turn it down!" Why am I so mad? I think it has something to do with the unsatisfied ache in my panties. I start moving but pause and retreat from my steps. "You know we'll be stuck together in this house for a while. So, if you can...kill this whole unfriendly energy you've got around you. It did serve us better." "Unfriendly?" He taunts with a wide gasp. "We've never been friends. All I remember is you seducing and begging me to fuck you at my father's birthday party—" "That was a mistake," I pause. "I am a married woman... happily married at that, and I would never betray my marr
Ciara's POV I gulp. My legs are trembling. I'm breathing too fast. I can't look at him and not remember last night how I shamelessly came alive and gosh... My panties are sticky to my inner thighs. He puts his hands around my waist to settle me as he lowers his face to my chin, trailing his lips down to my neck and slowly sniffs in. "You smell different." "No way you could have mastered my scent in just one night." My voice comes out too husky. I'm standing in the middle of my husband's dining room with the entrance open while his twin touches me like I'm his. In a house filled with maids, anyone could walk in... Anyone! “You smelled like roses yesterday,” he murmured. “I liked that.” "Well, my husband didn't, so he changed my body wash." I stressed the word husband to pass my message through. "Ahh, what a thoughtful brother. You smell like strawberries now, and I love to suck them." "I'm your brother's wife." "The same husband who used your connection to get a prom
Ciara's POV "Baby, must you go to work today?" I pout at Simon as we stood facing each other in the center of the room. "Of course I have to, darling, and you know that," he says impatiently. "It wouldn't tell well of me to sit at home a day after my dad's birthday celebration." I bit my lips and threw my hands around his neck. "It could be a hangover." "You know you should rest," he tells me with a smile as he removes my hands wrapped around my neck and holds them in his hands. "You weren't feeling too well last night." "I'm great now...just a slight headache." "You should still get more rest," he says in a concerned tone. "A few family members would start moving in today since this is where mum would stay." His voice cracks. We all loved mum. It's a shame that cancer is threatening to take her away from us. "I should... Get to work now." He turned to leave. "Not even a kiss?" "You never liked that, remember?" he says uneasily. "That's not true. I always did,
CAIN'S POV I walked toward Ciara, but Simon quickly intercepted, running his hands all over her body and inquiring if she'd be okay. I step back. I had greeted my dad earlier and my mother wasn't even there. I think I'm done with this party too. I head downstairs to the first floor—still crowded enough that no one notices me slip out to the side terrace for a quick smoke. The nicotine does nothing to dull the ache in my cock or the memory of her taste. I crush the cigarette under my heel when I see Ciara coming. She stared at me. My jawline, my eyes. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first, just a soft exhalation. "You—" Her voice cracks, barely above a whisper. She glanced wildly around the corridor. I don't move. I just watched her with a half-smile playing at his lips. "You knew," she hisses, stepping forward on trembling legs. "You knew exactly who I was. You let me—" she pauses. "You let me spread my legs for you like some desperate slut thinking it was my






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