Craving My Sister’s Hot Husband

In So Deep

Dominic

The numbers blur together on the screen. Two in the morning and I’m still in my study, staring at investment projections that promise returns too good to be true. Because they probably are too good to be true. But tomorrow I’m meeting with Jennifer’s contacts anyway. Tomorrow I’m borrowing millions from people who don’t accept bankruptcy as an excuse for non-payment.

Tomorrow I’m gambling everything on one desperate chance.

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. One week ago I was watching our baby’s heartbeat on an ultrasound screen. Planning a future. Believing in something.

Now the baby is gone. The money is gone. The company is slipping away. And I’m sitting in my study at two in the morning trying to figure out how everything fell apart so completely.

The sound of bare feet on hardwood makes me open my eyes.

Seraphina stands in the doorway wearing one of my dress shirts, the white one she’s claimed as hers. It hits her mid-thigh, the sleeves rolled up, and her hair is loose around her shoulders. She looks small. Vulnerable. And there’s something in her eyes that makes my chest tight.

She crosses to me without speaking, her movements quiet and deliberate. When she reaches my chair, she straddles my lap, her legs wrapping around me, her face burying in my neck.

I feel her breath against my skin. Feel her body against mine. Feel the way she’s trembling slightly.

“Baby.” I cup the back of her head. “Are you okay? I thought you were asleep.”

“I can’t sleep.” Her lips brush my neck. “I need you.”

“Seraphina—”

“I need you, Dominic.” She starts kissing my neck, my jaw, the corner of my mouth. “I miss you. Miss having you inside me. Miss the way you take me. The way you make me forget everything.”

My c**k responds immediately, hardening beneath her, and she shifts against me intentionally.

“I’m not sure if you’re healed enough.” I try to pull back to look at her face but she holds on tighter. “The doctor said to wait at least two weeks. It’s only been one. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me.” She finally pulls back, her eyes meeting mine. “I’m perfectly fine. No blood. No pain. I checked.”

“Seraphina—”

“Please.” Her hand slides down my chest. “I need this. Need to feel something other than empty. Need you to make me forget, even if it’s just for a little while.”

My resolve is crumbling. Has been crumbling since the moment she walked in here wearing my shirt and nothing else.

“Tell me if it hurts.” My hands find her hips through the thin cotton. “If anything feels wrong, we stop. Immediately.”

“I will.” She’s already working my belt open. “I promise.”

I slide my hand up her thigh, the skin soft and warm, and discover she’s not wearing anything under the shirt. Already wet. Already ready for me.

“Fuck.” The word comes out strangled. “You came in here with no panties?”

“I knew what I wanted.” She gets my belt open, my zipper down. “And I always get what I want.”

She rises up on her knees and positions herself over me. I grip her hips, ready to guide her, ready to stop if she shows any sign of pain.

She sinks down slowly, taking me inch by inch, and we both groan at the feeling.

“Okay?” I force the word out even though my brain has stopped working.

“Perfect.” She bottoms out and sits there for a moment, adjusting. “So perfect.”

Then she starts to move.

Slow rolls of her hips at first. Testing. Making sure there’s no discomfort. Finding her rhythm. And when she’s certain, when she’s confident, she starts riding me in earnest.

I watch her face. Watch the pleasure build in her expression. Watch the way her eyes flutter closed and her mouth parts and her head tips back.

My hands slide under the shirt, finding bare skin, traveling up her sides to cup her breasts. She moans and arches into my touch. I find her n*****s, rolling them between my fingers, and she clenches around me.

“That’s it, Kitten.” My voice is rough. “Take what you need.”

She increases her pace, her hands gripping my shoulders for leverage. The chair creaks beneath us. Papers slide off the desk beside us and scatter across the floor. Investment projections and loan documents falling like snow.

I don’t care. Can only focus on her. On the way she feels wrapped around me. On the sounds she’s making. On the fact that this is the first time since we lost the baby and it feels like reclaiming something we thought was gone.

“Dominic.” My name is a gasp. “Touch me. Please.”

One hand leaves her breast and slides down between us, finding her c**t. She cries out when I make contact, her rhythm faltering.

“Keep moving.” I circle her c**t with firm pressure. “Don’t stop. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

She obeys, grinding down on me while I work her with my fingers. The dual sensation pushes her higher. I can feel her getting close. Feel the way her body is tensing. The way she’s clenching around me more frequently.

But it’s not enough. I need more. Need to take her completely.

I grip her ass with both hands, squeezing hard, and start lifting her and slamming her back down. Taking control. Setting a brutal pace that makes her scream.

“Yes.” She’s not trying to be quiet anymore. “God, yes. Like that. Exactly like that.”

Papers continue to fall. The investment documents I was studying scatter everywhere. The chair is groaning beneath us. And I don’t care about any of it. Only care about her. About making her forget. About forgetting myself.

“f**k, you feel good.” I slam her down harder. “Missed this. Missed being inside you. Missed making you fall apart.”

“I’m close.” Her nails dig into my shoulders. “So close. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Never.” I angle my thrusts to hit deeper. “Come for me, Kitten. Let me feel it.”

But the position isn’t enough. I need more leverage. Need to take her completely.

I stand, still inside her, her legs wrapping tight around my waist. She gasps at the change but doesn’t protest. I turn and lay her back on the desk, scattering the remaining papers, positioning myself between her spread thighs.