Illicit Cravings

GUILT AND LONGING.

CHAPTER 3

Mia opened her eyes to the sunlight flittering through the window blinds. She blinked slowly, her mind still groggy from sleep, and for a moment, she was disoriented.

Then, the memories came running back. The anniversary plan, Javier's message, her anger and then the way Jayden had taken her, claimed her, ruin her like she has always been his and left her trembling in his arms. The way she satisfied her better than Javier ever did.

Embarrassment and guilt crept up her cheeks, her chest pounding louder than a war drum but beneath it all, there is a aching satisfaction. She wanted him to take her over and over.

Oh f**k!

What has she gotten herself into.

He is her brother-in-law for god's sake, and she bite down on her lower lips until she tasted copper.

Last night, Jayden had taken her over and over again, until the flesh between her thighs ached. Suck her n*****s until it seems like it would pop out and she had thought it was the best thing that has ever happened to her.

But this morning?

She felt guilty.

Javier might not have been present but he was a good man to her. Cared for her and loved her.

No…. This isn't right.

She shook her forehead, not even realising when a tear slide down her cheeks.

She shifted and noticed that Jayden was behind her, his arms slung possessively across her waist like he was preventing her from disappearing.

She tried to remove his hands but he didn't budge.

“Good morning,” he muttered into her ears, his hard c**k pressing on her ass and sending a jolt down her spine.

She felt goosebumps appear at the back of her neck.

She bite down on her lower lips—hard— trying to suppress the moan trying to escape. She didn't say anything; she couldn't. Opened her mouth but no words came out. Then she wiped her tears, and turned towards Jayden.

Jayden's mouth hung open slightly at the dark expression on her face. He could see the tears still dancing in her eyes. He knows without being told that she was hurt.

She was the best woman he had ever had s*x with in his entire life. Her p***y was tight, clean and addictive but that doesn't change the fact that it was wrong.

Jayden's chest tightened with guilt. Not only because of last night, but because for a very long time now, he had secretly desired his brother's wife and fantasized about her. He had f****d himself while picturing her—the way her ass swayed involuntarily, the way he could see her breasts anytime she crouched lower. He had even c*m while moaning her name.

Without another word, Jayden slipped out of bed, reached for his clothes sprawled across the floor and threw them on.

He stood there for a moment, half-dressed, the tension in his jaw sharp enough to cut glass. His eyes flicked over her face—her swollen lips, the tears drying on her cheeks, the silent accusation in her silence.

“I'm sorry, Mia,” he muttered, voice low and strained. “Let's forget last night ever happened.“

Forget?

Her stomach twisted. Blatant lie.

How could they forget when they could still feel eachother's heat. They could still feel how they both move in such perfect sync.

Oh sorry… not that easy.

He turned away before she could respond, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. His shirt hung open, jeans half-buttoned, chest rising and falling with a war he clearly wasn’t winning.

Mia wanted to say something—anything. Tell him not to go. Ask him what it meant. Demand to know why he held her like that, touched her like she was his and his alone. But her lips stayed frozen, weighed down by shame and confusion.

Jayden stepped toward the door, hand on the handle.

“Jayden…” her voice was a whisper, almost swallowed by the stillness in the room.

He paused.

His back tensed, but he didn’t turn around.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she finally said, her voice trembling.

“I know,” he replied, quiet. Hollow.

And then he walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was deafening.

Mia stared at the door, a hollow ache blooming in her chest. She should feel relieved—this was the right thing, the smart thing. But instead, all she could feel was empty.

Her fingers curled around the bedsheet, the one that still smelled like him. The one that had wrapped around their tangled bodies just hours ago.

Part of her wanted to chase him. To stop him. To wrap her arms around him and beg him to stay. Beg him to at least f**k her one last time.

Because as much as her mind screamed that it was wrong… her heart whispered that it had never felt more right.

Mia let out a long exasperated sigh, squeezing her eyes closed as the tears streamed down. More and more tears. Not only because she regrets this but because her body still yearn for more. Yearn for him. The man he could never have. The man that's so close, yet so far.

Minutes later, a knock came on the door. “Ma'am,” Roseline—the house keeper said.

Mia had told Roseline to stay off work yesterday because she wanted the moment to just be for Javier and her, so Roseline had come to ask her what she wanted for breakfast.

“Are you awake?“ she added.

“I'll meet you downstairs,” she called out.

Still naked, she forced herself out of bed, reached for her night gown—the one she wore for Javier but Jayden ended up taking off—on the floor. She moved to the bathroom, stepped into the shower and the warm water rushed down. Staring at her reflection in the mirror opposite, she saw the hickey Jayden had left on her neck. She scrubbed herself harder than necessary, willing to erase every trace of him on her skin, willing to erase how her body still ache for him even now. She scrubbed until the flesh on her neck, scratched and reddened.

Finally, she stepped out of shower, dressed in a loose sundress. She didn't feel like eating or doing anything, so she went back to bed and let herself wallow in guilt. Maybe that would bring her back to her senses.

One week passed, Mia kept to herself. She only went out to the store once to get a new phone for herself. She spoke to Javier everyday. He keeps apologizing for standing her up but Mia assured him she wasn't angry. After all, she had committed a more grievous sin.

But then no matter the guilt that pressed down on her chest, her body seems not to have a share in it. At close intervals when she remembered the way Jayden had taken her, she couldn't help but thrust her fingers into her p***y, while moaning his name. She tried to stop. Tried to picture her husband instead, but she couldn't help it when he suddenly disappeared and get replaced by that man.

“f**k, Jayden….“ She moaned, biting down on her pillow to muffle the throaty cry trying to escape her.

Her breathing turned ragged, toes curled, eyes rolled at the back of her head and she c*m. For the third time today.

She slipped out her fingers. Glistening. Slimy. And she dipped it into her mouth and licked it clean.

So Mia reached a conclusion. She wouldn't f**k Jayden again but she won't try to fight it when her brain remembers him. She would keep f*****g herself to the memory of him.

She slipped out of bed, had a quick shower and dressed in a sleeveless dress and made her way downstairs.

“Dinner is ready, ma'am,” Roseline says, her voice respectful.

Mia rolled her eyes. She had told the aged woman several times to stop with the respect but she doesn't listen.

“Roseline, you don't have be all respectful to me,” she says, settling down at the dinning table. “You are old enough enough to be my mother.“

Roseline smiled, dropping a platter of garnished chicken. “No, ma. It doesn't change the fact that you're my boss.“ She moved back to the kitchen.

Before Mia could respond, the door bell rings.

“Ding. Ding.“

Mia's eyes narrowed in shock. She wasn't expecting anyone and specially not by this time. It almost 7. P. M.

Reluctantly, she stood up and moved towards the door. She twisted the knob open and her breath caught at the sight of the person before her.