Craving My Sister’s Hot Husband

The Devil

Seraphina

I choose the dress specifically to torture him.

It’s red, bold, unapologetic, and it clings to every curve like a second skin before flaring slightly at my hips. The neckline plunges deep enough to be dangerous, showing the swell of my breasts without being obscene. Just subtle enough that Elena won’t comment, but obvious enough that Dominic won’t be able to look away.

I slide into heels that make my legs look endless.

Tonight is going to be exquisite torture. For both of us.

I take my time with my makeup, smoky eyes, darker lips to complement the dress, and when I finally head downstairs, I can hear voices in the dining room. Adrian has arrived.

The moment I enter, my stomach drops.

Adrian Hawthorne stands by the sideboard talking to Elena, and the second he sees me, he smiled. My mind skidded back to Dominic’s office just days ago when he wiped at my smudged lipstick with his handkerchief.

“Seraphina,” he says, and there’s something knowing in his tone that makes my pulse spike. “We meet again.”

Elena looks between us, confused. “Again? You two have met?”

“Briefly,” Adrian says smoothly. “At Dominic’s office. I ran into Seraphina on her way out.”

“Oh…” Elena let out a sheepish laugh. “I’m very forgetful this days. Seraphina told me.”

Adrian eyes hold mine, and I can see the questions there, the suspicions forming. “You seemed to be in quite a hurry that day.”

“I had somewhere to be,” I say, keeping my voice light despite the way my heart is hammering.

“Clearly.” He extends his hand, and when I take it, his grip is firm, assessing. “It’s good to see you again. Under more… relaxed circumstances.”

The emphasis on that last word isn’t lost on me.

Dominic is standing by the table, watching this exchange with a carefully neutral expression, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

“Seraphina, you look beautiful,” Elena says warmly. “That dress is stunning on you. Doesn’t she look wonderful, Dominic?”

Dominic’s eyes meet mine across the room, and the heat in that gaze nearly stops my heart. “Stunning,” he agrees, his voice carefully controlled. “As always.”

I move to take my seat, hyperaware of Adrian’s eyes following me, of Dominic’s rigid posture as he settles into the chair beside me. Adrian takes the seat across from me, which puts him diagonal to Elena, and suddenly the table feels far too small.

“I’m so glad you could join us, Adrian,” Elena says, her hands folded in her lap. “It’s been too long.”

“Far too long.” Adrian’s smile is genuine as he looks at her, and I catch something in his expression—old affection, maybe regret. “You look well, Elena.”

It’s a lie, she doesn’t look well at all, but it’s a kind lie, and Elena’s cheeks flush with pleasure.

Dominic reaches for the wine bottle on the table, and my entire body goes still.

It’s the same bottle. The same dark green glass with the long, elegant neck. The bottle he used to f**k me with this morning, that was inside me, that came out slick with my arousal and wine mixed together.

He didn’t clean it out. Didn’t empty it. Just put it back in the wine fridge like nothing happened.

And now he’s pouring himself a glass.

My breath catches as I watch the deep red liquid fill his glass, knowing—knowing—that some trace of me is in there. That when he drinks it, he’ll be tasting me mixed with the wine.

He catches my eye as he raises the glass to his lips, and the corner of his mouth curves in the barest hint of a smile.

Then he drinks.

Heat floods through me so fast I have to press my thighs together under the table. He’s drinking me. Tasting me. The intimacy of it is so obscene I can barely breathe.

“Would anyone else like wine?” Dominic asks, gesturing to the bottle.

“Oh, I’ll have some,” Adrian says.

“Actually, that’s a particular vintage I’ve been saving,” Dominic says smoothly, setting his glass down but keeping his hand wrapped around the stem. “I have something else you’d prefer.” He stands and retrieves a different bottle from the sideboard, pouring for Adrian and Elena.

“So, Adrian,” Elena says as Dominic settles back into his seat beside me, “how long are you planning to stay in town?”

“That depends.” Adrian swirls his wine thoughtfully. “I have some business matters to attend to. After that, I’m flexible.”

“Business matters.” Dominic’s voice has an edge to it that makes the air feel thinner. “You mean buying up shares of my company.”

“Dominic,” Elena says gently, a warning in her tone. “We agreed to have a nice dinner.”

“It’s alright, Elena.” Adrian’s expression doesn’t change, remains perfectly calm. “Dominic and I understand each other. We always have.” He looks directly at Dominic, and there’s something challenging in his gaze. “I’m a businessman. When I see an opportunity, I take it.”

“An opportunity.” Dominic takes another sip of wine, our wine, and I watch his throat work as he swallows, watch the way his knuckles whiten slightly around the stem. “Is that what you call it?”

The tension at the table shifts, becoming something intense.

“Gentlemen, please.” Elena’s voice carries a note of distress. “Can we just enjoy the meal? Seraphina and I worked very hard on it.”

I barely hear her. I’m too focused on Dominic’s hand on his wine glass, the way his fingers wrap around the stem, the same way they wrapped around the bottle when he was using it to f**k me. Too focused on the muscle jumping in his jaw, the barely contained rage simmering beneath his controlled exterior.

“You’re absolutely right, Elena,” Adrian says graciously. “Forgive me. Let’s talk about something more pleasant.” He turns his attention to me, and I feel exposed under his scrutiny. “Seraphina, I have to say, you seem very comfortable here. How long have you been staying with your sister?”

“A few months now,” I say carefully. “Since Elena started treatment.”

“That’s very devoted of you.” His tone is pleasant, conversational, but there’s something sharp beneath it. “Putting your life on hold to help family. Not everyone would do that.”

“Elena is my sister. Of course I’d be here for her.”

“Of course.” He takes a sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving my face. “And I’m sure Dominic appreciates the company. It must get lonely, taking care of someone who’s ill. Having another person in the house must be… comforting.”

The way he says “comforting” makes my skin prickle with awareness. He’s fishing, testing, seeing how we react.

“Dominic has been wonderful to both of us,” Elena says, reaching across the table to pat his hand. “Taking care of me through all the treatments, making sure Seraphina feels at home here. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

Dominic shifts slightly, and his hand drops below the table to grip my thigh—hard, possessive, fingers digging into my flesh through the thin fabric of my dress.

“I do what I can,” he says, his voice perfectly controlled even as his grip tightens to the point of pain. “Both women are my responsibility.”

“He’s very hands-on,” I add, unable to help myself, looking right at him. “With all his responsibilities.”

Adrian’s eyes flick between us, and I see it—the moment something clicks into place behind his eyes. The suspicion crystallizing into something closer to certainty.