Seducing My Husband's Brother

The Third Guest

PURITY

••••••••••

I never thought of myself as the type to get knocked up within the first month of marriage, but that was exactly what happened.

Barely two months after ours, we were in attendance at Adrian and Damian's wedding, so everybody was there, everybody was busy. I guess the rush of the event, all the heat and excitement, and probably skipping a meal or two, got to me—next thing I knew, the room was spinning, and I fainted.

Somehow, Ryat managed to be absent for this, just like he's managed over the years to be absent from everything important to me. Ryan was off handling business, and I wasn't his concern. Raya, however, was right by my side, steady as always.

She made a bet when I finally came to, saying the doctor would tell me I was pregnant. I argued, saying it wasn't possible, but of course, she turned out to be right.

Naive me blamed Ryat's absence on his lack of interest in that branch of the Reigns family, but now it occurs to me that he was probably cheating with the chick I caught him staring at. That's probably what he was doing when he missed Angelo's birth, my second pregnancy, and all the complications that came with both.

My hand closes around the comb I'm holding, veins throbbing beneath my skin.

"Let it go, Pure," I breathe. "Move on."

I let my lids fall over my eyes, drawing slow breaths until the hammering in my ribcage quiet down, and my shoulders relax a little.

Then warm, cushy lips land on my cheek, sending a rush of heat across my face. "What is bothering you?" Marco's voice invades my senses, his breath leaving hot trails along my neck.

One would think that Ryat's ransacking of my room a few days ago would have broken this unholy union, but I think it's safe to say that at this point, we crave the thrill. The danger, the rush of knowing we're dancing on the edge, has become almost intoxicating.

Responding to his question, I shake my head. "Nothing."

"Hmm." The sound vibrates along my skin, and it's a struggle keeping myself from moaning right here and now.

He most certainly is aware of the effect he has on me, but refuses to step back. Instead, he reaches for my hand, his touch soft yet firm. Gently, he uses his thumb to caress the ink on my wrist, circling it until my skin turns a pale shade of pink.

"You miss him, don't you?" He plants a second kiss on my temple and my n*****s harden against the flimsy fabric hiding them.

Inhaling, I snuggle into him, my eyes tracing the name boldly etched across my wrist, 'Angelo'. "Why would Ryat keep him away from me?" My voice cracks, but I don't mind being vulnerable around this man. I absolutely don't mind.

He moves to my ear, sucking on my lobe and dampening it with his saliva as he bites and nibbles on my soft skin, this simple action sending the strangest, sweetest tingles through my cunt.

"f**k," I breathe through parted lips, gently spreading my legs, ready to touch myself if he keeps teasing me without actually doing anything.

I really can't be thankful enough for the fake bottom in the wardrobe.

"He wants to punish you, that's why, Purity."

My hand clenches into a fist, all the arousal that's been building in my cunt somehow escapes me.

"He knows keeping him away from you would do more harm than this little prison ever would."

I'm aware.

It's why I've tried my best to keep him from knowing just how much being away from Angelo affects me, but he doesn't seem to be biting into the act. Would you look at that—Ryat became a tiny bit smart. Pft!

My chest deflates, all the air trapped inside expelling. "Since nonchalance isn't doing it for me, I'd have no choice but to use more drastic means."

Before he's able to say anything smart, three consecutive knocks penetrate the air, sending chills down my spine.

My eyes dart towards the brand-new door—fixed after Ryat and his goons destroyed the last one—where the knocks came from.

Before we are able to break through the daze and react, it comes again—three calm, soft, knocks—and my head snaps toward Marco.

He pulls a tight smile then nods, reassuring me. Inhaling, I calm myself before getting on my feet, smoothening every possible crease on my silk robe.

Marco turns in the opposite direction, heading for the wardrobe, and I watch his bare back retreat, admiring the confidence oozing from within all the pull of muscle.

The third round of knocks sends another jolt through me, rough and sweet, almost addicting.

Briskly, I walk to the door, my mind racing between possible people that could be out there. It's not Ryat. He wouldn't be that gentle. Even if he was keen to reason the first time, he definitely wouldn't be the second or third.

It also can't be Sara. It's not time for lunch yet, and I was very clear when I said I didn't want any disturbances if it had nothing to do with food.

Then there's literally nobody else who would knock on that door—except Marco whenever he's feeling extra cautious—but he's hiding beneath the board of my wardrobe. So who could this be?

At the door, I reach for the key, and a certain chill sips through me, dancing beneath my skin.

The tips of my fingers gently tap on the gold-coated key for a good three seconds before my wrist rotates, unhooking the lock.

As the door comes away, a tiny figure jumps at me, completely throwing me off. "Surprise!!"

A display of colorful confetti clouds my vision, swirling around like a malformed lightning shower—if such a thing even exists.

"What the—" her features finally snap into view, clearing through the swirl of confetti like rays of sun peaking from behind storm clouds.

"Raya!" My hands fly open, unable to hide my excitement.

She rushes into me, and a dull pain explodes in my chest as she crashes against my breast. Almost immediately, she pulls, then looks up at me with squinted eyes, suspicion dancing in the depths of her golden orbs.

"Hmm..."

"Wh-what?" I ask sheepishly, hands still wrapped around her.

"Nothing." She shakes her head before stepping back. "I brought you a present!" Wiggling excitedly, she announces, her bright smile still in place.

"A present? What could it possibly be?" I chuckle, knowing how mischievous Raya can be.

She turns and flutters back outside, disappearing behind the walls, then reappearing within a second—but not alone this time. Clinging to her arm is—

"Angelo!"

"Mamá!"

He rushes at me, and I lower myself to meet him. The hug is life-saving, flooding me with all the energy and light that Ryat had managed to drain from me these past few days.

My arms tighten around his little body, squeezing him closer, almost as if I want to make him a part of me again, just like he was five years ago. He doesn't complain, pressing his head against my shoulder and brushing my face with his smooth curls.

I press my lips into his hair, inhaling that sweet baby smell that has clung to him even after he stopped being a baby four years ago.

"I've missed you so much, mi niño."

He snuggles in a little more before flattening his hands on my chest and pulling away. He meets me with those golden eyes, natural to Reigns-born. I'm almost jealous of the innocence that twinkles so relentlessly in them, my heart dreading the day he'd be stripped of it.

Carefully, I caress the curve of his face, as if even the slightest pressure could break him. The back of my eyes sting already, but I fight the tears. I have absolutely no intention of ruining the smile on his beautiful face.

"Mamá," he calls again, gripping my hair and playing with it like he always does.

"¿Qué pasa, mi amor?"

"Papito también vino."

My eyes dilate, blood rushing to my ears with deafening intensity. Not even Angelo's innocent voice could thaw the dread that follows the announcement.

"Why is Ryat—" My voice dies the moment I spot him. The air goes still, and my stomach knots.

My hands are clammy, my lungs suddenly feel too tight to draw a proper breath and my heart does that annoying thumping thing it always does whenever he's near.

Standing next to Raya, he towers above us all like some Victorian-age war castle. He's clad in a midnight-black suit with his hands casually tucked in his pockets like he couldn't give a care in the world.

I gulp, lost for words, but he speaks.

"Purity."

Just that—just my name.

My eyes flick back to Angelo, still beaming, then to Ryan—back to my third guest. To his annoyingly attractive face.

My p***y clenches, straining against nothing, crying for his attention, the one I miss the most.