Twisted Affair Vol. 2

by M. S. Parker

  “I would like to taste you now.” She ran out her tongue and flicked it across the tip of my cock.

  It went from half-hard to fully erect in record time.

  She didn't wait for a response, but instead wrapped her lips around the head and began to suck. My eyes rolled back as her head began to bob, taking more of me with each pass. She wrapped one hand around the base of my cock and took my balls in the other. I put my hand on her head, fingers flexing against her scalp.

  “Liv,” I groaned. “Baby, that feels so good.”

  She pulled back, my cock sliding from between her lips. “How do you want me?”

  There were far too many ways to answer that question and all of them were equally appealing.

  “Up,” I said, holding out my hand. She took it and let me help her to her feet. “Bend over the couch.”

  She gave me a grin that made my cock twitch and I raised an eyebrow. What was with her? I hadn't smelled or tasted alcohol, but I supposed she could've gotten a little tipsy and then gotten rid of the evidence. I'd done it plenty of times.

  “Here.” She held out a hand with a condom in it. “Must be safe.”

  After I took it from her, she walked over to the couch, put her hands on the arm of the couch and bent over. She looked over her shoulder and winked.

  “What's gotten in to you?” I asked as I walked behind her. I put my hands on her ass, savoring the feel of her firm muscles beneath soft skin.

  “You soon, I hope.”

  Shit, she got mouthy when she'd had a little to drink.

  I ran my hands up her back and unhooked her bra, letting her breasts fall free. I leaned over her, my cock against her ass, as I reached beneath her to palm her beautiful flesh. She moaned as I took her nipples between my fingers, rolling them until she was writhing and pushing back against me. Only then did I straighten, my hands moving across her ribs, fingers skimming her stomach and then down until they dipped under the waistband of her panties.

  I found her clit easily enough, my finger sliding between her folds. She was slick and hot as I rubbed the top of her clit, alternating pressure and speed until her responses told me which she liked the most.

  “Don't move your hands,” I said firmly.

  She nodded, her hands staying where they were even as her hips moved. I chuckled as I kissed my way up her spine, adding a second finger as I changed angles. A shudder went through her and she said something in her native tongue. I really needed to learn Czech.

  “Are you going to come?” I pressed a little more firmly against her clit and she made gasping sound as she nodded. “Then come, baby, and then I'm going to fuck you until you do it again.”

  A few seconds later, she cried out, her hips jerking against my hand. Damn that was a sexy sound. I removed my hand from under her panties and tore open the condom package. Even as she was coming down, I rolled the condom on and positioned myself behind her. I pulled aside the damp crotch of her panties and rubbed the head of my cock against her entrance.

  As much as I wanted to simply plunge myself inside her and fuck her until she screamed my name, I wanted to make sure I didn't have a repeat of last time. There would be absolutely no doubt this time as to her agreement.

  “What do you want, Liv?” I asked. I hated the thought that she'd tell me to go and I'd have to finish myself off, but I hated more the idea of her flipping out and denying this entire thing happened... again. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  “Ano.” She nodded. “Please.”

  “I want to be clear.” I pressed forward a bit, teasing while still asking for permission. “If you say yes, I'm going to fuck you.” I squeezed her ass with my free hand. “Hard.”

  “Yes,” she spoke clearly. “I want you to fuck me.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed. I'd had dozens of women say similar things to me over the years, but hearing the words in that accent... damn if it didn't make it all the hotter.

  I put my hands on her hips and she pushed back against me. She wasn't only agreeing. She was eager. That got rid of the last of my concern. What happened before had been a fluke. She'd freaked out, but had since realized what she wanted. It wouldn't happen again.

  Enough of that. My cock was throbbing and she was making the most appealing mewling noises.

  I snapped my hips forward, burying myself inside her with one quick thrust. Damn she was tight. Livie wailed, her pussy quivering around me. I swore, fighting my body's natural urge to lose myself in her, not worry about her own pleasure. When I regained enough control, I began to move.

  I'd warned her I wasn't going to go slow and I was true to my word. I pounded into her, enjoying the sounds I was driving from her. I slid my hand beneath her, stroking her clit in time with my thrusts. Livie's head had fallen forward, her curls shielding her face, but I remembered the expressions of pleasure I'd seen on her the other night. A stream of foreign words and phrases were pouring out of her and I felt her body start to shake again.

  I was close and as she reached her climax, her pussy contracted around my cock, squeezing it until I cried out. My orgasm hit me without warning and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight as I came too.

  “Fuck,” I muttered against her back, tasting the salt from her sweat, bitter against my tongue. “Oh, fuck that was good.”

  I stood and withdrew. I kept my arm around her waist, holding her up as her knees buckled. I used one hand to dispose of the condom and then pulled her down onto the couch with me. She didn't protest as I tucked her against my chest and pulled a blanket over us. At least she didn't at first. After a couple minutes, I didn’t know anyway. I was out.

  I wasn't sure how long I slept, only that it was still night when I woke and, again, Livie was gone. I couldn't really blame her this time. The couch was comfortable enough, but even I preferred to sleep in a bed, and with two people, it would've been a bit of a tight fit. I got up and picked up my clothes, but didn't bother dressing. It wasn't like Livie hadn't gotten up close and personal with my naked body. Seeing me walk around naked wouldn't be a big deal after that.

  My stomach growled as I retrieved my shirt and I remembered my chicken. I walked back into the kitchen. According to the microwave, I'd only been asleep for an hour or so. I put a couple pieces of chicken on a plate and stuck it in the microwave. The rest went into the fridge for later consumption.

  While my food heated up, I went to my room to drop off my clothes. I told myself that I was only going to peek into Livie's room to make sure she was okay, but a deeper part of me knew I was still a bit worried that she was pissed at me. If she'd still been sleeping next to me when I'd woken up, I would've known things were okay. Now, I needed to reassure myself, and it was an unfamiliar feeling for me.

  I didn't dwell on it though. I wasn't that guy. Or, at least, I never had been before. I would just take a look, make sure she was okay, and then move on.

  I knocked lightly, but didn't get an answer, so I opened the door a crack. It wasn't much, but enough that I could see Livie curled up in her bed, covers pulled up under her chin, her expression peaceful. I couldn't help but smile. She was so beautiful.

  I lingered a bit longer than I'd intended, knowing full well I should move on. I'd never watched a woman sleep before. Not unless I was trying to figure out a way to either sneak out of her place or get her out of my hotel room. She sighed and rolled over, breaking the spell. I eased the door closed and headed into the bathroom for a quick cleanup. I smelled the chicken now and focused on that. Good sex always made me hungry. I planned to eat, shower and head to bed for a good night's sleep.

  The week was looking better already.

  Chapter 5

  Katka

  Things had been tense between Livie and me since she'd married Blayne and I didn't like it. I didn't like the marriage, Blayne, or how those two things had fucked up my relationship with my sister. Livie was the most stubborn person I knew and once she'd set her mind to something, nothing short of a miracle would chan
ge it. I knew that to be the case because I'd never actually seen her deviate from her plans. She might tweak things here and there to perfect something or to make allowances for extenuating circumstances, but there was never a complete turn away from her ultimate goal.

  In the past, there had been times I'd tried to talk her out of or in to certain things. Modeling here in the US rather than working minimum wage jobs. I understood that she hadn't wanted to starve herself – she was slender but not the toothpick size that was so popular – but I'd still thought she could compromise a bit. But that was Livie. No compromising. Ever.

  Then again, I supposed it was all about the way people looked at things. Livie had shot down my idea of arranged marriages to come to America and get our green cards because she'd felt that was akin to prostitution. Now, she was married and swore it was different. I couldn't help but be annoyed at what I saw as hypocrisy. She'd insisted it was different because she wasn't sleeping with Blayne, but I didn't see it. She'd married him and he was paying her. Just because she hadn't fucked him yet didn't mean anything. I wanted very much to believe he was as good of a guy as she believed him to be, but I still had my doubts.

  After all, why would a handsome, rich, charming man need to buy a wife if he was as nice and sweet as Livie claimed? I'd been trying to get her to see that, but my plan wasn't working so far.

  She'd actually gotten so angry at me during her honeymoon that she'd refused to speak to me after the first couple days. I'll admit that maybe skipping her wedding and constantly asking if Blayne was hitting on her or sleeping around probably hadn't been the best approach, but it had been done out of love. I was simply trying to make her see what she refused to see. More drastic measures had been called for after she'd stopped taking my calls.

  Today was the first day I would see my sister in three weeks. She'd called me yesterday and asked if we could meet for lunch. It was the middle of her first week back from her honeymoon and I wondered if that meant, as soon as they'd gotten back to Philadelphia, Blayne had shown his true colors.

  My stomach knotted just thinking about it. I didn't want Livie to get hurt, but better now than later. It wasn't like I wanted Blayne to turn out to be an ass. He actually seemed like a half-decent guy, but when it came to my sister, I wasn't messing around.

  Livie and I met at our favorite diner, a little place that had once been a trolley car. It wasn't exactly near our apartment, so we didn't go often – plus Livie hated to spend money on eating out since she felt it was a waste – but it was the place we always went to when there was something important or special going on. That was one of the reasons I had a knot in my stomach when I walked inside and saw Livie sitting in our usual booth, a strange expression on her face.

  “I ordered your usual,” she said as I walked over. “Cinnamon bun with icing and pancakes with strawberry syrup.”

  Breakfast for lunch or dinner. One of the reasons it was our favorite. In the orphanage where we'd grown up, breakfast had always been porridge and dry toast. Powdered eggs on special occasions. It had been too expensive to give us anything else. We never starved, but there was never much to enjoy either. One of the things I loved the most about being self-reliant was the ability to choose a variety of things to eat, specifically for breakfast.

  “You do not appear to have been sleeping well,” I observed as I slid into the seat across from my sister.

  She glared at me. “I am finalizing my business proposal and want it to be perfect. That tends to be stressful.”

  “Are you sure that is all?” I asked. While I might delight in teasing my sister, when it came to the important things, I didn't believe in dancing around a topic. “Your marriage is not causing you problems?”

  Livie sighed and my heart sank. Here it came. I'd known it was inevitable, but it didn't mean I didn't feel bad for her anyway. I also felt a twinge of guilt for my role in things. Well, more than a twinge. After all, this was partially my fault. I'd been telling her what a bad idea this was, but I should have done more to stop her from going into this ridiculous arrangement in the beginning.

  “I need to talk to you without you interrupting,” she said. Her expression was serious.

  I'd meant what I said. She looked tired. Her make-up had been carefully applied, but I knew her well enough to still see the slight shadows under her eyes. Her face was more pale than normal and her usually pristine hairstyle had a few strands out of place. Most people wouldn't have thought anything of it, but I wasn't most people.

  “I will do my best,” I said.

  “I may have behaved rashly.”

  I raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, proof that I could control myself.

  “Marrying Blayne... may have been a mistake.”

  Her voice was even and there had been only the slightest hesitation, but I knew how much it cost her to say those words.

  “What happened?” I reached across the table and touched her hand.

  She glanced up as the waitress came with our food and waited until the other woman left before answering my question.

  “He has not tried anything improper.” She frowned as she picked up her fork. “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked as I poured liberal amounts of syrup over my pancakes.

  “While we were on our honeymoon, we barely saw each other,” she said. “He was polite, if distant. He made no advances, he was a perfect gentleman and held up his side of our agreement. He didn’t even come home drunk or smelling of perfume, which I would have expected.”

  I didn't tell her that just because he didn't smell like he'd been with another woman didn't mean it hadn't happened. He'd probably just been careful, not wanting to upset her.

  She must have seen my thoughts on my face, though, because she defended herself anyway. “I am not unintelligent, Katka. We do not have that kind of marriage if I need remind you.”

  I shrugged, thankful I had a mouthful of food as an excuse not to answer her. She was smart, but when it came to men, I thought her brain fell asleep at the wheel.

  “I believe that he forced himself to be faithful during our honeymoon,” she reiterated. “Not that it should matter, after all. But something has changed since we’ve gotten home.”

  I tensed. Here it was.

  “Sunday morning, he tried to kiss me.”

  I frowned. That hadn't been what I expected.

  “That is not even the strangest part,” she continued, correctly interpreting my expression as confusion, but not the cause of it. “He seemed surprised when I pushed him away and then, believe it or not, he claimed we had slept together.”

  I swore silently and asked out loud, “Did you?”

  “Of course not.”

  If looks could kill, then the one Livie gave me would have ended my life right then.

  “Then why did he say it?” I asked, careful to keep my voice steady. Livie was feeling sensitive about the subject and the wrong tone could make her upset with me. I didn't want that.

  “I do not know.” She let out a sigh and took a few bites of her chicken sandwich.

  I ate and waited for her to be ready to talk again. I had a million questions bouncing around in my head, but refrained from asking any of them. I knew my sister. She'd want to tell me things in her own time. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what she must be thinking. Did she suspect him of having an affair? If so, why would she care? Did she like him more than she wanted to admit?

  “I thought, perhaps, he had dreamed we had slept together,” she said, a thoughtful expression on her face.

  “A logical thought,” I agreed half-heartedly. I didn't believe that was the motivation behind his claim, but I would let Livie say what she needed to say before I offered any explanation of my own.

  “Then it happened again.” She appeared more troubled by this second incident. “He did not attempt to kiss me or touch me, but he spoke to me about us having had sex in the living room Monday night after he came home after work.”


  “Do you believe he is lying to try to get you to sleep with him?” I couched it as a question rather than telling her I thought it was part of his seduction plan.

  “I do not know,” she said, her annoyance clear in her voice. “I do not like the thought that he is playing some sort of game. He has been honest with me before this.”

  “Livie.” I kept my tone gentle. “How well do you actually know him? You have seen him on his best behavior, trying to get what he wants.”

  “I refuse to believe that,” she said firmly.

  I suppressed a scowl. What would it take for her to give up on this foolish marriage? The suspicions should have been enough. Did Livie care enough about him to even care if he was cheating? Was monogamy even something she cared about? Would she actually need to catch him in the act to walk away? Or would it only be after he broke his word and took his advances a step too far? I didn't want to see either one happen. They would both hurt her. Livie appeared to be strong, and in many ways she was. Just not when it came to her heart.

  “Do you know what you need?” I decided on another course of action. “You need to get laid.”

  “Katka!” Livie snapped at me.

  I didn't let her offended tone stop me. “Hear me out.” I held up a hand to stop whatever protest was coming. “Perhaps Blayne believes that since you have not made arrangements to fulfill certain needs, he thinks you are waiting for him.”

  She scowled but didn't argue. “You believe I am sending out signals of some kind?”

  I nodded. That was as good an explanation as any. “Maybe. It may be possible that he sees your availability as being desire for him rather than your normal self-imposed celibacy.”

  “That is not what I do,” she countered.

  I raised an eyebrow.