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If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t dare. Would never have even brought them back to my house to live, much less started spilling my guts.
I’m not usually a gambler. Don’t like leaving my life in the hands of fate. But something about this woman makes me want to risk everything.
“She’s the reason I got into poetry as a kid. She was always reading Shakespeare and would quote Chaucer like scripture. She would’ve loved you.”
I push some hair from her pale shoulder, leaving my next thought unspoken, hidden in the depths of my soul where it belongs. Would she have loved me?
“That’s true. I’m very lovable,” Elena giggles, and the sound pierces my chest, a dull knife being shoved through flesh and bone and arriving out the other side.
Shifting forward, I reach into my pants pocket for my wallet, retrieving the photo I keep there. It’s a small copy I stole from her high school graduation series that I kept over the years as a reminder that someone out there could have a relationship with me, even if her father wasn’t interested.
Turns out, she doesn’t want one, either.
Elena’s spine stiffens, and she leans in, peering at the picture. “Who’s that?”
Her tone is curt, significantly less playful than it was three seconds ago, and I smirk, squeezing her thigh, practically soaking up her jealousy. “My sister.”
“Your sister?” Blinking, she frowns. “That’s... the girl I met outside the Flaming Chariot.”
“You met Violet?”
“She was standing outside on the curb, and said she’d tried going in several times, but couldn’t get herself to do it.” Tilting her head to the side, she studies the picture some more, seemingly lost in thought. “I guess now I get why she acted so offended that I had no idea who she was. What kind of wife doesn’t recognize her own sister-in-law?”
“The kind who doesn’t know what she looks like?”
Pursing her lips, she slumps back against me, removing her arm from my shoulders to drop it into her lap. “Do you have other secret family members I don’t know about?”
I hesitate, the word grandfather materializing on the tip of my tongue before I swallow it down, not ready to open that can of worms. She notices my pause, narrowing her eyes, and I smirk again, trying to play off the silence as being distracted by her.
Palming her ribs, I glide my hand up, my thumb grazing the underside of her right breast through the pale blue silk pajamas she has on. “Violet has two brothers, but I don’t know them.”
Her throat works as I touch her, eyes falling to where my fingers continue their ascent, engulfing her entire breast in my hand and squeezing until she gasps.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“Enjoying my wife?” I say, dropping the photo to the desk and dipping my head to the crook of her neck, baring my teeth against her skin.
She leans into my bite but doesn’t close her eyes. “Violet said you don’t ever talk about her.”
“I don’t.” Elena tenses in my lap, her spine going rigid, and I sigh, pulling away and letting my hand fall. “The man who helped create me, if you want to call him that, had just brought home his firstborn son when he had an affair with my mom. He was married and had nothing to do with me. I thought when Violet was older, maybe it’d be easier to connect with the rest of the family, if I connected with her first. But she doesn’t want me around.”
Not that it’s stopped me from trying.
“Oh, Kal—”
Something in her tone prickles my already red-hot nerves, and I exhale sharply, reaching up to collar her throat in my hands. Her breath catches, getting stuck beneath my palm, and my cock stirs behind my jeans at the heady sensation of having someone’s pulse at my mercy.
“No pity, little one. Don’t give me that.” She shifts, rubbing over my throbbing cock, and even through the layers of clothing, I can feel how hot she is. “You want to give me something, you want to make me feel better, you give me that sweet little pussy.”
Elena’s gaze turns glassy, but I can’t tell if it’s sadness or desire pooling there. She blinks the sheen away, tilting her chin down to stare at me through hooded lashes.
“Okay,” she says, turning around so she’s straddling me, grinding into my growing erection. “Whatever you need, Kallum. Take it from me.”
Later, after I’ve pumped her full, she lies on her back atop my desk, fiddling with the torn strap of her pajama top and staring up at the ceiling.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, drawing my fingers through her sensitive flesh, smearing my cum over her skin. I’m grateful she’s on birth control now, so I can mark her like this every chance I get.
I’m standing above her, my dick hanging, drained, between my thighs, neither of us particularly eager to move from the quiet of the room.
