Filthy Little Desires

CHAPTER THREE

Ruined by My Sister's Husband

The penthouse was dark when Avery pushed the door open at 9:57 p.m.

She'd stood in the guest room fighting with herself for twenty minutes. All her common sense screamed at her to pack a bag and leave. Instead, she stripped, dropped the clothes on the floor, and wandered down the hall naked.

Dominic was waiting when she opened the door to his bedroom.

He sat on the edge of the bed in black sweatpants, no shirt, elbows on his knees. Only the city lit the room, streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He looked up at her, his eyes scanning slowly over her body with a possessive gaze.

"Lock the door."

She did his bidding, and he stood.

Slowly, he walked to where she stood and stopped in front of her. He didn't touch her yet, just looked, taking in the sight of her.

"Three years," he murmured. "You were twenty-one, standing next to Claire in that pale blue dress at the wedding. You smiled at me once, that was it. I've been f*****g my hand to the memory of that smile ever since."

Avery's breath caught in her throat.

Dominic's hand finally lifted, cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. "I told myself I would never touch you. Then last night you walked into the living room in her robe, and I was done pretending."

He walked her backwards until her knees hit the edge of the mattress and she sat. He pushed her down and climbed over her, his knees bracketing her hips.

"Legs open."

She did, and he settled between his thighs, forearms braced on either side of her, staring at her.

Then he kissed her, slow, deep, and filthy. His tongue dragged over hers while his hand slid down her side and cupped her p***y, two fingers sliding through the wetness pooling between her legs, the fluids she'd gathered since his text.

"So f*****g ready," he muttered against her mouth. "You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Good girl."

He kissed down her throat, over her collarbone, then took one of her n*****s in his mouth and sucked hard. His fingers pushed deeper into her, two then three, working her open with slow, patient movements. Every time she neared completion, he dragged his fingers out, making her whimper and wriggle her hips over his hand, trying to find him again.

"Dominic—please—don't stop," she begged, her hips twitching against his hand. "Please, I need it. Make me feel you."

"Not yet," he murmured against her skin, biting the soft underside of her breast. "I waited three years. You can wait until I'm ready to let you come."

He moved lower, his shoulders forcing her thighs open wider. Then his mouth was on her, his tongue slow, drawn out, licking through her folds as if he had all night. He sucked her c**t between his lips, flicking it before pushing his tongue inside her, deep and filthy. Avery's hands fisted in the sheets, her hips trying to chase his mouth. He pinned them there with a heavy forearm and continued to eat her like he was punishing her for making him wait.

"Dominic, please," she sobbed out, her voice breaking as the friction built too high, too fast. "Please, f**k me. I'm yours, just take me—"

When she shook and sobbed his name, begging in broken whispers, he finally lifted his head, shoved his sweatpants down, and lined up.

This time he pushed in slow, watching her face the whole way, inch by inch. The stretch burned deliciously before he bottomed out and stilled, his forehead against hers.

"Feel that?" he rasped. "That's three years of wanting you. Every time I f****d my wife, I thought about this pussy."

Avery whimpered, her hands finding his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "Harder," she gasped, the friction making her crazy. “Dominic, please, hit me deeper. f**k me hard—”

Dominic started moving, sliding deep into her, long strokes that raked over all the tender places inside her. He kept the rhythm steady, almost gentle, but the look in his eyes said otherwise. One of his hands pinned both of hers above her head while the other slid under her knee, lifting it until she was spread wide open for him.

"You're going to come on my c**k," he murmured. "And when you do, you're going to look at me. I want to watch."

He angled his hips and plunged deeper into her in answer to her silent plea. The sound of it filled the room. Avery's orgasm built fast and furious, and when she came, she locked her eyes on his, her p***y clamping around his c**k in pulses.

Dominic growled, dropped his head to her neck, and buried himself deep in her, harder, deeper, losing the careful rhythm as he emptied everything he had into her. He came with a guttural moan, spilling his seed inside her, his hips stuttering as he drained the last of his c*m into her.

For a while, all they heard was their breathing.

He stayed deep inside her, still hard, and brushed some hair off her face.

"I'm not letting you go after this," he murmured into her hair. "You understand that, right? Claire, the marriage, all of it. I'll deal with it. But you're mine now."

Avery opened her mouth to say something.

The front door opened downstairs.

Keys clattered on the table.

Claire's voice floated up the stairs.

"I'm home early! The dinner got cancelled—"

Dominic's body went stiff above her.

His c**k was still deep inside Avery's p***y.

His c*m was still oozing out around his shaft.

And his wife's footsteps were already on the stairs.