002: TWO SIMONS??

CIARA'S POV

Just when I'm still looking around the dark room and regretting my stupid impulse, he undoes his tie, tossing it aside together with his suit jacket. He strides towards me.

He surprises me by sliding one rough palm up my bare thigh fingers trailing until his fingers reach the drenched lace between my legs. He hooks the soaked fabric aside with a single finger, exposing me completely. The cool air hits my swollen clit and makes me hiss.

His other hand cups my breast fully, thumb circling my already-pebbled nipple, pinching just hard enough to make me gasp. Long fingers curl lightly around my throat tilting my chin up so I have nowhere to hide.

There's something strange in his darkened blue eyes as he leans closer. Our hearts beat in unison as he devours my lips like an incredible world kissing champion.

I gasp loudly, wrapping my hands around his neck for support.

Did we switch scripts? He was supposed to fumble with his belt, shove inside me quick and mechanical, mutter about work stress the entire time, then finish with a forehead kiss like I was a child.

Instead his hand moves between my thighs. Fingers circle my swollen clit in slow, teasing circles. My thighs tremble. A low, broken whimper escapes me.

My hips jerk before one thick finger slides deep inside me, curling against my front wall on the first stroke. My pussy flutters greedily around him. He adds a second stretching me wider pumping slow at first, letting me feel every knuckle dragging along my sensitive body.

A third finger joins. Three thick fingers fill me completely. The musky scent of my arousal fills the room with every thrust. He curls them harder hooking that perfect spot inside my pussy and rubbing mercilessly while his thumb presses down on my clit in firm, fast circles.

He groans low against my lips like getting me off is the hottest thing he’s ever done. The sound vibrates through me, making my walls clamp down harder.

Pressure curls low in my belly. My thighs shake uncontrollably. Slickness drips down his wrist, coating his fingers, trickling along my inner thighs...

That's when my stupid phone decides to ring. I ignore it and stay present for the magic Simon is working with his fingers inside my pussy.

He doesn’t let go when my phone rings. His fingers stay inside me, his thumb keeps relentless pressure on my clit while his fingers thrust lazily, daring me to answer like this.

I dig my nails into the hard muscles of his shoulder through his shirt, muffling my scream because I know how polite Simon loves to act at public events.

I guess I won't be taking my best friend's advice to purchase sex toys anymore. I couldn't cry out my orgasms, but breathless moans and half-pleased screams slipped out.

He expertly slips his fingers in and out, increasing the pressure as my head falls back and a strangled cry leaves my throat.

My breath fractures. My pussy clamp down harder milking his fingers as I gush around them. Hot, slick release soaks his hand, and drips onto the cabinet beneath me. A strangled scream rips from my throat.

My head falls back, body arching so hard my breasts nearly spill from the dress.

My phone rings again and when my breath breaks he ease his fingers out deliberately leaving me empty and aching.

Watching me with an unreadable look, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean with his tongue.

I let out a heavy breath. "Seraphine?" I groaned my best friend's name into the phone the moment I answered.

His eyes flicked briefly toward the door, like anyone could bust in and stop him from fucking his wife behind closed doors?

"Where are you cee? The party is about to start, and we need hosts here!" she yells.

"Okay, be down in a moment!" I yelled back and cut the call.

I glanced at Simon's hard cock. "You want help with that?" It would be so selfish of me to let him finger me this wonderfully and I wouldn't even repay the favor.

When he doesn't answer, I glance at the ceiling, uncertain what to do now. "We should head back, they're about to start, baby." I say, unsure why he's staring at me strangely.

He smooths my dress down. His fingers linger at my hips before stepping back, eyes dark with satisfaction. "After you!" He says in that deep drawl that sends my insides tingling again.

I adjust myself and step out with a wide smile. Gosh, I feel so fucking full and satisfied. Why was he always so quick at shoving his dick into my vagina when his fingers had some special talents?

As I step out, still struggling to adjust myself to look normal, I bump into a hard surface. When I lift my head, I'm greeted with Simon's handsome features, who is now holding his mask in his hands.

What? I squint my eyes like I've seen a ghost and stagger backwards.

He puts his hands around my waist to settle me. "Baby, where have you been? I thought you were with Seraphine."

If Simon is here, then... I spin around.

The other man who had just been with me was strolling towards us with his mask dangling between his fingers and the suit jacket slung over his shoulder. He has a predatory smirk on his lips.

"Two Simons?" I mutter.

Simon's jaw drops quickly as he watches his impostor stride towards us. "He's my brother." He says with obvious disdain.

"You have a twin brother?" I asked, trying to make sense of everything. "You never told me." I accused.

"He was never around." Simon dismissed it like it was nothing. He smooths my waist and drops a kiss on my forehead as his twin approaches. "Cain." He spits the name out. "We don’t talk," he adds with a clenched jaw.

"Simon." Cain matches the energy by gritting his teeth.

"My wife, Ciara." Simon introduced us.

Cain was not even listening or looking Simon's way. He's already staring at me through hooded eyes. "Ciara." Cain calls my name in a low tone, the same tone he groaned in when he was knuckling deep inside me. He stretches out his hands.

At first, I felt shock, then rage, but now as I stretched my hands to shake the same hands that had just been inside my adulterous, cheating pussy all I felt was humiliation as aftershock still pulsed between my legs.

Under the bright lights and standing beside my husband. I notice the differences in them. His twin shade of blue eyes are darker, he has a piercing on both ears and a tattoo peeking under the collar of a suit. He is more muscular. He makes Simon look... softer.

Cain grip tightens just a second too long. His eyes never leave mine. His thumb drags slowly across my knuckles before he releases me. "We’ve already met," he says softly, his thumb pressing into my pulse point. "Haven’t we?"

"What?" Simon asks, apparently confused.

I gasped loudly, coughing and choking as I turned to my husband's shoulder for shelter.

Cain is trouble, but the smirk on his face doesn’t resemble that of a man about to confess. It looks like a predator who's found his next prey.