Twisted Affair Vol. 3 (An Erotic Romance)

by Parker, M. S.

  I laughed. “I slept with my wife's sister. I'm pretty sure that's frowned upon in most places.”

  “You did not know it was me,” she said. “I take the blame.”

  I could see the tears shimmering in her eyes and I felt a pang in my heart.

  “I only wanted to protect my sister from being hurt. I never dreamed it would become so complicated.”

  “It's actually simple,” I said. “We let it go. Livie never has to know. We let her introduce us and pretend we don't know each other.”

  “She does not know?” Katka gestured between the two of us. “That we...”

  “No.” I shook my head. “At least I don't think so. She didn't say anything to me. I figured it out when she told me she had an identical twin who was a bit...” The corner of my mouth twitched. “Wild.”

  “Is that what you wish?” Her expression was blank and I knew she was trying to hide something from me. “For me to walk away?”

  My stomach twisted at the thought of her walking out that door and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I took a step towards her. “Is that what you want? Be honest with me. You owe me that.”

  She took a shaky breath and her eyes met mine. “I do owe you honesty, but I am afraid.”

  I swallowed hard. She'd lied to me. Attempted to ruin everything I'd carefully constructed. But the attraction I'd felt in the club – the one that had gone beyond pure physicality or the admiration I had for Livie's strength and determination – was still there.

  “You don't have to be afraid of me,” I said softly. “Tell me what you want and I'll respect it.”

  “You,” she whispered. Tears spilled over. “I know I should not, but I cannot stop the way I feel.”

  “Me either,” I admitted in a low voice.

  This was a bad idea, I knew. Probably the worst one I'd ever had. What I was feeling could hurt Livie, could ruin my life, but at the moment, all I could see were the tears on Katka's cheeks and the way her lips were trembling.

  I closed the distance between us and cupped her face in my hands. The kiss started gentle, but quickly became fierce as she pressed her body against mine, lips parting eagerly. I had enough presence of mind to know that doing this in the living room wasn't wise, so I slid my hands down her back and cupped her ass, giving it a squeeze before lifting her up. She was tall, but I was taller. She gasped, but I didn't release her mouth for her to protest. Her legs automatically wrapped around my waist and I carried her to my bedroom without breaking the kiss.

  I didn't really register our clothes coming off, only that, one moment, there were layers between us, and the next, my hands found bare skin. Before, I had questioned the wisdom of my actions, but mostly because I hadn't been thoroughly convinced my attentions had been welcomed. Now, there was no hesitation. I'd made the decision and I knew she wanted me. I was at least going to enjoy myself and make damn sure she did as well.

  I held her breasts, one in each hand, my thumbs brushing across the soft skin. “Beautiful,” I murmured before lowering my head. I kissed and licked my way across her pale flesh, every breathless moan making me harder. When I circled her nipple with my tongue, she said something in Czech. When I took it between my lips, she swore. My fingers paid attention to her other nipple as I began to suck on the one in my mouth. Her back arched and I felt her fingers in my hair, holding my head in place. As if I'd intended to go anywhere else. Eventually, I wanted my mouth other, more delicate places, but only after I'd finished here.

  I worried at the sensitive skin with my teeth as my free hand slid down Katka's stomach. I felt her spread her legs to grant my hand access and I rewarded her with a flick of my tongue across the top of her nipple. My fingers slid through the thin layer of golden curls until I was able to slip a single digit between her folds. She moaned loudly as I lightly stroked her clit.

  Within a couple minutes, her breathing quickened and she gasped out my name. I closed my eyes. Fuck. She'd said my name before, but this time, we were both clear about what we were doing, what we wanted. This time, when I said her name, it would be the right one.

  I released her nipple and moved down between her legs even as her orgasm began to subside. I used my fingers to bare her pussy and then went to work. I'd never been averse to going down on a woman. Aside from the fact that it made it easier for me since I wasn't exactly small, I enjoyed getting my partners off. I wanted to come too, but of all the shortcomings I had, being a selfish lover wasn't one of them.

  With Katka, however, it was more than any of that. I didn't just want to pleasure her because of my ego. I genuinely wanted her to come harder and more times than she ever had before. I wanted to make this experience better than the other two, better than anything she'd ever had.

  I'd never shown such single-minded determination in my life. I teased her clit with my tongue as I slid a finger into her wet pussy. I kept the strokes even, never going too deep or too hard. When I finally added a second finger, I began to suck on her clit. The suction was gentle as I wanted to take her to the edge nice and slow.

  “Blayne,” she whimpered, reaching down to dig her fingers into my hair.

  I kept my fingers pumping into her even as I raised my head. “I've got you.”

  I turned and pressed my lips against the inside of her thigh before returning my attention to the task at hand. The tip of my tongue circled her clit as I began to twist my fingers, searching for the spot I'd found before.

  Suddenly, her back arched and she let out a wail, her entire body stiffening. I swore as her pussy tightened around my fingers, her hands gripping my hair hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. I began to lick every inch of quivering flesh, wanting to draw out her pleasure as much as possible. I didn't stop until she began to gasp, her fingers twitching against my scalp.

  I pushed myself up on my knees and looked down at the beautiful body stretched out before me. I reached over to my side table and inside the top drawer for a condom. I may have tried to avoid bringing women back to the penthouse, but I'd always made sure to keep the condoms in the same place so that even drunk me could find them.

  Katka muttered something in Czech as she looked up at me, eyes almost black with desire.

  “One day,” I said as I rolled the condom onto my throbbing erection. “You're going to have to tell me what some of those phrases you're always saying mean.”

  She pushed herself up on her elbows and then into a sitting position. “I just said it is my turn to be on top.”

  She grabbed my wrist and pulled me down onto the bed. I wasn't about to argue with her. I'd have been lying if I said I hadn't fantasized about what it would be like to have those gorgeous breasts bouncing as she rode me.

  I laid down and she straddled me, positioning herself until she was right above my cock. Then she hesitated.

  “Are you certain?” she asked. “That you want me and not my sister?”

  I stared at her. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Before,” she explained. “You thought I was her. Do you want me now because you cannot have her?”

  I propped myself on my elbows and tried to ignore the primal need screaming at me to bury myself inside her. “Katka.” Her name sounded right. “I want the woman who joked with me at the club. The woman who wore sexy lingerie and had such quick wit.” I reached up to wrap a few curls around my fingers. “I want you, my Kat.”

  Something deeper than desire went across her eyes and then she was sinking onto me and I forgot to care about anything but the tight heat surrounding my cock. I dropped back onto the bed with a groan. My hands went to her hips, but only to steady her. Her body was already moving, up and down, back and forth, an ancient dance that relied more on instinct than knowledge. I'd had enough lovers to know that experience could turn a bad lover into a good one, a good one into a great one, but I also knew there were some people who could have very little experience and be amazing in bed. Some people felt it, understood it, and Katka was one of those women. She let herself go, com
pletely abandoned any pretense, let herself feel.

  She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against my stomach as she flicked her tongue across my nipple. When her teeth scraped over it, I cried out, my hands tightening on her hips. My eyes rolled back in my head as she began to suck on it, never losing her rhythm. When she straightened, I managed to focus on her again, watching as she cupped her own breasts, her fingers teasing her nipples as she increased her pace.

  I slid my hands up her sides, over her ribs, and removed her hands from her breasts. My eyes locked with hers as I began to roll her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. She moaned, her head falling back. I could feel the pressure inside me building and knew I was close. I released one breast and moved my hand to where our bodies were joined.

  “Fuck!” Her entire body jerked when I pressed my thumb against her clit.

  I gritted my teeth as she squeezed me like a fist. She felt so good I could've easily lost it right then, but I was determined to make her come again. I rubbed her clit harder than before, my fingers pinching her nipple until she fell apart.

  “Yes!” she called out, her hands flattening against my stomach. “Ano! Ano!”

  I remembered that one. Definitely a positive thing. Her nails bit into my stomach and I pulled her down onto me as I came. Pleasure coursed through me as my cock began to pulse inside her and I called out her name. She collapsed onto me even as I pumped up into her, my hips moving involuntarily.

  “My Kat,” I murmured against her hair as I held her tight.

  I ran my hand up and down her spine, keeping our bodies joined. When I finally pulled out and disposed of the condom, I pulled her back against my chest, wanting to keep her with me for as long as possible. My fingers danced along her sweat-slicked skin, memorizing each dip and curve. I paused at her hip.

  “You know,” I said as my finger traced the tattoo there. Two letters entwined, written in script. An L and a K. “I had thought it was weird for Livie to have a tattoo. I thought she'd think it was unprofessional.”

  Katka looked up at me without moving herself out of my embrace. “Livie cares about her business,” she said. “But there is a side to my sister you do not see.”

  “Tell me,” I said, wrapping my other arm around her. “She closes herself off so often that I don't think I can ever get to know her.” I kissed Katka's temple. “Let me see your sister through your eyes. Tell me.”

  “Okay,” she said. After a moment, she began to do just that.

  Chapter 3

  Livie

  I had spent all of the last week looking for studio space without luck. I had contacted three different real estate agencies before I found someone willing to work with me, and it had taken me two polite and one less polite discussions to convince her of what I was looking for. In both instances, I had waited until absolutely necessary to play the husband card. Part of it was my pride, still wanting to do it on my own, but I wasn't too arrogant to know when enough was enough. I hadn't even bothered to try the third one with my maiden name. As soon as they heard Westmore, they were falling all over themselves to find someone to help me out. I'd had to pull the name out again when my agent, Maggie, kept trying to take me into office spaces where I could house my non-existent staff. I didn't plan on hiring any more than a secretary and an assistant, if both became necessary. Perhaps, one day in the distant future, I would take on some young, talented designer who came from a poor family, give him or her the break I'd never gotten. But that was years away and not what I needed to think about at the moment.

  Today, Maggie was finally taking me to a space I thought I could use. It was more of a loft than an office, which was what I was looking for. My ultimate goal was to use the studio to showcase a few samples of my work that could be bought as they were, but more for bringing in clients to design dresses specifically for them.

  The studio she'd found was in a perfectly positioned part of the city – not in such a good part that people with less money would feel like they couldn't afford my prices, but nice enough that the high-end people I'd meet through the Westmores would feel comfortable as well.

  I wanted to design beautiful dresses – some expensive and some for regular people. The money would be nice, but it wasn’t what was important. I wanted to see people wearing and loving the things I'd created.

  Usually, thinking about design and creativity brought a smile to my face. If it hadn't, the beautiful space Maggie took me into should have. It was everything I'd been looking for. Stone walls and exposed piping gave it a unique feel I automatically liked. When she told me the price, I should've been thrilled. In fact, I should've been overjoyed at the whole thing. Instead, I was distracted.

  By Blayne.

  I silently cursed as I smiled and thanked Maggie, promising to call her as soon as I had things finalized with the bank. This was it, the perfect place, and I couldn't even enjoy it because I was too busy trying to figure out what exactly was going on with my husband.

  For a week, he'd insisted we were doing things we hadn't done, behaving as if there was something between us that wasn't there. I'd been trying to wrap my mind around it, trying to figure out what his intentions were. Then, suddenly, at the beginning of this week, everything had changed. We'd gone out on what I could only call a date, even though there hadn't been anything romantic about it. After that night, he'd stopped talking about the sex we hadn't had. It was strange. He'd gone back to being the same guy I'd assured Katka was really a good guy. He didn't try to touch me and all of his conversation was friendly. It was exactly how I'd wanted things to be between us, back when this had all first started.

  Except something was off. I couldn't put my finger on it. There was still something he wasn't telling me. I didn't expect him to tell me everything, but I had this nagging feeling that whatever this was, it was something important, something I should've known.

  It was the first week of March and still cold in Philadelphia, but warm enough that I decided to walk for a while rather than take a cab back to the penthouse. Blayne didn't understand why I preferred to walk sometimes rather than ride. Then again, neither did Katka. Her walking had always been because of money. For me, I'd always enjoyed the alone time, the simplicity of it. In some ways, even in the city streets, when I was walking, I felt like a child again. Like the little girl I'd been back in the Czech Republic before the night when everything had gone to hell.

  I scowled. I didn't like thinking about that day, and usually didn't. Katka and I never spoke of it, not even on the anniversary of the day it had happened. In fact, we rarely spoke on that day at all. If anything, our silence was the only acknowledgement of what that anniversary meant for us. I didn't know if she thought of it much any other time and I didn't ask.

  Now, I'd been thinking about it a lot, ever since I'd told Blayne about my family. It was the first time I'd talked about it in years and the memory seemed to have taken my acknowledgement as permission to stay at the forefront of my mind.

  As I walked into the penthouse, I immediately walked to my room to take off my shoes and change into more comfortable clothes. Blayne was at work and I wasn't intending to go anywhere else today. I needed to polish my business proposal and add in the final information regarding the space I'd just seen.

  Before I could get settled at my desk, my stomach growled, reminding me I had skipped lunch and I walked back out into the apartment. I could work and eat at the same time. It would hardly be the first time. Although, I thought as I opened the pantry, maybe I should call Katka instead. It had been a week since I'd seen her and a couple of days since I'd spoken to her. With thoughts of the past plaguing me, I had a strong urge to hear her voice, even if we'd never actually talk about it.

  I was still debating whether or not I wanted to make the call when I walked past Blayne's bedroom door. Something bright caught my eye and, automatically, I looked down.

  For a moment, I didn't recognize it for what it was and started reaching for it when my brain registered
it. Underwear. Women's underwear. And these weren't a pair of my sensible cotton panties that had fallen out of my laundry basket. Even without touching them, I could see that these were silk. A deep, rich crimson silk.

  I frowned as I straightened. Blayne had said we would need to be discreet in all of our infidelities. Leaving panties in the hallway in our apartment was hardly discreet. I also seemed to recall him stating that we weren't to bring anyone back here. Aside from the obvious awkward explanation that would need to occur if someone's date ran into the spouse, Blayne suspected that several of the building's staff spied for his father. If that was the case, then having a woman back here would certainly be ill-advised.

  Why, then, had he done it? I wondered as I started to walk again, leaving the panties where they lay. I certainly wasn't going to clean up after his liaison. If his father suddenly showed up, I'd kick the garment into his bedroom, but that was as far as I was willing to go.

  While a surprise visit wasn't likely, I still didn't understand why Blayne would've taken the risk that came with sneaking a strange woman into the building. I supposed he could've taken precautions to hide her identity. If she was a tall blonde, being bundled up could hide her face enough –

  Oh shit.

  The thought hit me hard enough to make me gasp. I put my hand over my mouth as I set my food down on the table to keep from dropping it.

  A woman who could come into the building without rousing suspicion.

  Sexy but not insanely expensive panties.

  Blayne thinking that he and I had slept together.

  His sudden change in behavior when I'd told him, for the first time, that I had a sister.

  “Dammit, Katka,” I said out loud. “What did you do?”

  In my mind, I knew what her sarcastic response would have been. Not what, but who. Blayne.

  My sister had fucked my husband.

  And I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

  Chapter 4

  Blayne