Craving My Sister’s Hot Husband

The Ride

SERAPHINA

Walking hurts.

I have to keep my legs slightly apart as I make my way down the stairs, each step a reminder of what Dominic did to me last night. How he f****d me on his desk like an animal that had been s*x starved for decades. How he pounded into me with a brutality that was more punishment than pleasure, more possession than passion.

My inner thighs are sore. My hips ache where his fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises. And between my legs, I’m so tender I can barely stand the friction of my underwear.

Every twinge, every ache, every uncomfortable step is proof that he couldn’t control himself. That I drive him to the edge of sanity and push him right over.

Elena is already in the kitchen when I finally make it downstairs, and she looks up from the counter where she’s organizing her medication bottles.

“Morning, sunshine,” she says, smiling. “I was just about to come get you. Can you help me with these? My hands are shaking today.”

“Of course.” I cross to her, trying to walk normally despite the soreness.

But I can’t quite manage it. My gait is off, and my legs are staying wider apart than they should.

Elena notices immediately. “Are you okay? You’re walking funny.”

My heart skips a beat. “I’m fine. Just strained my knee at the gym yesterday.”

“The gym?” She looks concerned. “Sera, you don’t need to be working out. You should be taking it easy too.”

“I needed to clear my head.” I take the pill bottles from her and start sorting them into her daily organizer. “It helps with stress.”

“Still. Be careful. I need you in one piece.” She watches me work. “What would I do without you?”

What indeed.

I sort through her medications with practiced efficiency, the morning pills in one compartment, the afternoon in another, the evening in the last. She has so many now. Anti-nausea. Pain management. The chemo drugs themselves. Each one is carefully labeled with dosage and timing.

So many pills. So much trust that I’m putting the right ones in the right places.

“Dr. Morrison added a new one,” Elena says, pointing to a bottle I haven’t seen before. “For the neuropathy. Twice daily.”

I add it to the organizer, and Elena leans against the counter, watching me with those trusting eyes.

“You’re so good at this,” she says. “So careful. I’m lucky to have you.”

“It’s not hard,” I say, closing the last compartment. “Just following the chart.”

“Still. You’ve given up so much to be here. Your apartment, school, your whole life. And you never complain.”

I set the organizer down and face her. “You’re my sister. This is where I need to be.”

She pulls me into a hug, and I feel how thin she’s gotten. How fragile. Her body is all sharp angles now, her scarf slipping slightly to reveal the baldness underneath.

“I love you,” she whispers. “You know that, right?”

“I love you too.” The words came out heavy from my mouth.

She pulls back and wipes at her eyes. “Look at me, getting emotional before coffee. The medication makes me so weepy.”

I pour her coffee while she sits at the table, and I’m hyperaware of every movement. Every step reminds me of Dominic’s hands on my body. His c**k is inside me. The way he bent me over and took exactly what he wanted.

Elena takes a sip of coffee and sighs contentedly. “I woke up feeling good today. Better than I have in weeks. I think this new protocol is really working.”

“That’s great.”

“It is.” She sets down her mug and reaches across to take my hand. “You know, I was thinking this morning about when you were born. When Mom told me she was pregnant, I was thirteen.”

I’ve heard this story before, but I let her tell it.

“I was so excited to have a baby sister. I told all my friends at school. Bragged about it constantly.” Her eyes get distant with memory. “And when you were born, when I first held you—God, Sera, you were so tiny. So perfect. I promised myself right then that I’d always protect you.”

She squeezes my hand tighter.

“Mom was a mess, as usual. Drunk more often than not. So I took over. I was the one who got up with you at night. Fed you. Changed you. Made sure you were okay.” Her voice gets fiercer. “And when kids at school tried to bully you, I broke jaws. Literally. Got suspended twice for fighting kids who made you cry.”

“I remember.”

“You were my baby. My responsibility. My whole world.” Her voice cracks. “And now you’re here, taking care of me. It should be the other way around.”

She’s crying now, tears streaming down her face.

“I should be the one protecting you. Making sure you’re okay. But instead, you’re holding me up. You and Dominic both.”

She stands and pulls me into another hug, and I feel her shake against me.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for being exactly who you are. For being the best baby sister in the world.”

I hug her back and say nothing.

Because what is there to say? That I’m f*****g her husband? That every time she thanks me, I’m thinking about how his c**k felt inside me? That I’m planning the next time we can be alone?

She pulls back and wipes her eyes. “Look at me, falling apart over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“Still.” She laughs and returns to her medication organizer, double-checking that everything is sorted correctly. “You did this perfectly, as always. I don’t know what I’d do without you managing all of this.”

I watch her trust me completely with pills that could kill her if I made a mistake. Watch her believe that I’m sorting them correctly, that I’m putting the right ones in the right slots.

So much faith. So much trust.

So much power in my hands.

“Oh,” Elena says suddenly, looking toward the hallway. “Dominic left so early this morning. I barely heard him go. He didn’t even have breakfast.”

My pulse quickens at his name.

“He gets so caught up in work he forgets to eat,” she continues. “And with that big meeting today…” She starts pulling out containers, packing food. “Sera, would you mind taking him something? It would mean a lot to me. You know how he is.”

My heart pounds. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” She hands me the container of food and a travel mug of coffee. “You’re such a good sister. Taking care of both of us.”

I head upstairs to change. I pick out a dress carefully. Short enough to be interesting. Easy access if the opportunity presents itself.

I examine myself in the mirror. The marks on my neck are covered with concealer. The bruises on my hips are hidden under the dress.

I walk to my car, open it and set the food and coffee in the passenger seat, and start the engine.

I smile as I pull out of the driveway, and I think about how Elena has no idea what she just did.

Sending me to him. Alone. In the middle of the day.