All Chapters of Craving My Sister’s Hot Husband : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

DominicThe office feels too quiet after she leaves.I sink into my chair and stare at the desk where I just made love to her—made love. Not fucked, not claimed, not taken what I needed to burn off the stress of my imploding life. Made love like she was something precious that required care instead of something forbidden that demanded possession.That wasn’t supposed to happen.None of this was supposed to happen.Seraphina was supposed to be temporary. A few stolen moments when the weight of everything else became too much. Quick relief in my office or her room, scratching an itch that Elena’s illness had left wanting. Something physical, uncomplicated, easily contained.But today it meant something different.Today it meant mine in a way that goes beyond the physical. Beyond the affair. Beyond everything, I thought this was when it started.I press my palms against my eyes and try to breathe through the realization settling over me like concrete.I’m in love with her.Not the kind o

Seraphina I carry the basket of shirts upstairs, my footsteps quiet on the carpet runner. The house is silent except for the faint sound of running water coming from above. Elena is downstairs in the living room, probably curled up with her tea and her book like she always is when she’s avoiding confrontation. Dominic’s door stands slightly open. I push through and the sound of the shower immediately fills the space. He’s in there now, and Elena just asked me to bring his clothes up, which means I have a reason to be here. A legitimate excuse if anyone asks. Not that I need excuses anymore. Not really. I’ve stopped pretending weeks ago that this is anything other than what it is. I set the basket on the bed and begin hanging the dress shirts in his closet, taking care with each one. These small acts of service feel like ownership. Every shirt I hang, every piece of his life I manage, it all adds up to something that looks like devotion but feels more like possession. He’s m

SeraphinaTuesday morning arrives wrapped in the kind of crisp autumn light that makes everything feel like a beginning. I wake early, my hand automatically going to my stomach where nothing shows yet but everything has changed. Today Elena leaves for Switzerland. Today Dominic and I are going to our first ultrasound appointment. Today our real life together starts, even if it’s only for two weeks.I find Elena in her bedroom, already dressed, her suitcase open on the bed like a mouth waiting to be fed. She’s holding one of Dominic’s dress shirts, the blue one he wore to our first dinner with Adrian, and there’s something in her expression that makes my chest tighten with an emotion I refuse to name.“Let me help.” I take the shirt from her hands and fold it properly, setting it aside. “What else needs to go in?”“I don’t even know what to pack for something like this.” She gestures helplessly at the pile of clothes on the bed. “How do you pack for experimental cancer treatment in a f

DominicThe drive home is quiet, but it’s the good kind of quiet. The kind where words aren’t necessary because everything that matters has already been said. Or seen, in this case. That tiny flutter on the screen. That impossibly fast heartbeat. That proof that what we’ve been doing, what we’ve been building in the wreckage of my marriage, has created something real.Seraphina holds the ultrasound photos in her lap like they’re made of glass. Every few minutes, she picks one up and stares at it, her finger tracing the measurements printed on the side. Seven and a half weeks. Due date August 28th. Our baby.I reach over and take her free hand, lacing our fingers together on the console between us. She looks at me and smiles, and there’s something in her expression that makes my chest feel too tight. Joy. Pure, uncomplicated joy. When was the last time I felt that?The house comes into view and I pull into the driveway, cutting the engine but not moving immediately. We sit there in

SeraphinaThe pain wakes me at 3:47 AM.At first, it’s just a dull ache low in my abdomen, the kind that could be anything. Indigestion from dinner. A muscle pulled from the enthusiastic sex on the living room floor. Something normal and forgettable.I lie still and breathe through it, not wanting to wake Dominic who’s sleeping soundly beside me. The house is quiet around us, the kind of deep silence that only comes in the dead of night when even the usual settling sounds have gone to sleep.The ache intensifies.I shift positions, trying to find some relief, but the movement makes it worse. Sharp now instead of dull. A cramping sensation that makes my breath catch.Something is wrong.The thought arrives with crystalline clarity, cutting through the fog of sleep. Something is very wrong.I roll toward the edge of the bed, intending to get up, to walk it off, to do something. My hand lands in something wet. Cold. Soaking through the sheet beneath me.Even before I see it, som