Craving My Sister’s Hot Husband

In The Shower

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 mine. These tasks prove it. Elena can’t even bring herself to come upstairs and face him, but I’m here, taking care of his things, moving through his space like I belong in it.

Because I do belong here.

The shower is still running, steam probably filling the bathroom by now. I hang the last shirt and my eyes drift to the bathroom door. It’s open just a crack, light spilling out into the bedroom along with tendrils of steam.

I should leave. Go back downstairs. Let him shower in peace.

Instead, I cross to the bathroom door and push it open wider.

The glass shower enclosure takes up most of the far wall, and through the steam and water I can see him. His back is to me, water cascading over his shoulders, running down the muscles of his back, his hips, his thighs. I’ve seen this body countless times now in countless positions, but something about watching him like this when he doesn’t know I’m here makes heat pool low in my belly.

He’s incredible. All lean muscle and controlled power, and he’s mine in ways that have nothing to do with legality or vows and everything to do with the fact that I’m carrying his child.

My dress hits the floor before I’ve consciously decided to take it off. My bra follows. Then my underwear. Until I’m standing completely naked in the bathroom with steam curling around me and my heart pounding in my chest.

This is reckless. Elena is one floor below us. Could decide to come up at any moment. Could walk in and find me naked in her husband’s bathroom.

But she won’t. She said herself she can’t face him right now. She’s avoiding this room, avoiding him, and that means this space is mine for the taking.

I open the shower door and step inside.

The water hits my skin immediately, hot enough to make me gasp, and Dominic spins around at the sound. His eyes go wide when he sees me standing there, water already soaking my hair, running down my body.

“Seraphina.” My name comes out startled. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I step closer, close enough that water bounces off him onto me. “I’m joining you.”

“Elena is downstairs. She could come up. This is insane even for us.”

“She won’t come up.” I reach for him but he catches my wrist. “She’s avoiding you, remember? Said so herself when she asked me to bring your clothes up.”

“That doesn’t mean we can just—”

“I need you.” I pull my wrist free and press my palm flat against his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath my hand. “I’ve needed you since this morning. Since you made love to me on your desk and told me you wanted this baby.”

His jaw tightens and I can see him fighting it. Fighting the want. Fighting the insanity of this.

“I’m wet for you.” I slide my hand down his stomach, watching his muscles contract under my touch. “Have been all day. Can’t stop thinking about you inside me. Please, Dominic. I need you to f**k me.”

Something in his expression shifts. That careful control cracking just enough to let the hunger through.

“You’re going to get us caught.” But his hands are already moving to my waist, pulling me against him, and I can feel how hard he is. “You’re reckless and insane and—”

I kiss him before he can finish, rising on my toes, water streaming over both of us, and he groans into my mouth before kissing me back with bruising intensity.

When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and his voice has dropped into that commanding register that makes my knees weak.

“Turn around.” His hands on my shoulders spin me before I can respond. “Hands on the wall. Now.”

I brace my palms against the tile, the surface cool against my heated skin, and spread my legs without being told.

“Wider.” His foot nudges between mine, forcing them further apart. “Arch your back..”

I comply, bowing my spine, presenting myself to him the way he wants, and the vulnerability of the position sends liquid heat through my veins.

“That’s my good f*****g girl.” His hand slides down my spine, over the curve of my ass, between my thighs. “So f*****g wet. Were you lying when you said you needed me? Or can I feel how much you want this?”

“Not lying.” My voice comes out breathy. “Never lying about wanting you.”

His fingers slide through my wetness, circling but not entering, and I bite back a whimper of frustration.

“Please.”

“Please what?” He leans forward, his chest against my back, his mouth at my ear. “Use your words, Kitten. Tell me what you need.”

“Your c**k. I need your c**k inside me. Please f**k me.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He positions himself at my entrance, the head of him pressing against me but not pushing in. “But you’re going to take it exactly how I give it to you. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slams into me in one brutal thrust and I barely manage to muffle my cry against my arm. The stretch is perfect, overwhelming, exactly what I needed, and he doesn’t give me time to adjust before pulling back and driving in again.

“Quiet.” His hand comes up to cover my mouth. “Unless you want her to hear what a desperate little slut you are for my cock.”