A sharp gasp left her, which only made Jude fuck her harder and faster.
“Holy shit.” Her thighs shook, moans left her mouth the longer time went on.
Before either of them knew what I was doing, I gently thrust two fingers into Tiffany alongside Jude’s cock.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
She whimpered.
I knew it would make things tighter for them and I couldn’t wait for the orgasms it would cause.
“Mia,” Tiffany panted. “Please. Please let me come.”
I locked eyes with my husband and nodded once.
In a quick move, he cupped her throat.
I grinned, my fingers picking up speed. “Come. Both of you.”
Tiffany screamed, her back bowing against Jude.
He grunted, pulling free from her body.
I took the hint and lowered my mouth onto him.
Jude groaned, thrusting up and up, his release spilling into my mouth. It coated my tongue and filled my senses with everything that made up him. My husband. The love of my life, along with his stepsister.
Smelling her and tasting her on him, forced this constant ache between my legs to become more pronounced even more.
When he calmed down, I lifted off his cock and placed a soft peck on the tip of his dick.
“That was something else,” Tiffany said, letting out a soft sigh.
I laughed, rising from the lounger and held out my hand. “Come with me.”
The only thing I hated about wearing a strap-on, was that I couldn’t feel it. But the tiny little prongs that pinched my clit helped at least a little. And the moans and screams coming from Tiffany helped too.
Every so often, my eyes would wander over to where Jude sat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom. His hand was wrapped firmly around his cock. Streams of his cum already grazed his chest and stomach. He had come twice already since we brought Tiffany back to our bedroom. She had come more times than I could count, and I loved every second of it.
I had asked Jude to join us. It would be fun to feel him inside of me while I was fucking her, but he had said that she was my toy. He was just along for the ride. Next time, we would all play but for now, she was mine.
She was my little.
THE END
About J.M. Walker
J.M. Walker is an Amazon bestselling author who hit USA Today with Wanted: An Outlaw Anthology. She loves all things books, pigs and lip gloss. She is happily married to the man who inspires all of her Heroes and continues to make her weak in the knees every single day.
"Above all, be the HEROINE of your own life..." ~ Nora Ephron
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Fragile Vows
Ally Vance
Love Makes Fools of Us All - William Makepeace Thackeray.
Prologue
I Do
Watching my twin, Ciaran, marry the girl I’ve been in love with since we first met is the purest form of torture imaginable. Memories of her naked body beneath mine flash into my mind, but I push them away before I can start mentally removing every layer of the wedding dress in which she chose to marry him.
I’m my brother’s best man, but I’m also the worst man because I’m doing everything I can not to get a stiffy up on the altar. I can’t seem to keep a hold on my reactions when it comes to his bride. Her light blush peeks through the barely-there layer of makeup, and the white dress hugging her breasts and waist flares out softly from the hips I once left bruised with my fingers.
Shaking my head at my own folly, I force myself to refocus on the words echoing out across the church as the priest binds them together with their vows. Her eyes are fixed adoringly up at my brother, but I could almost swear she shifts her attention ever so subtly to glance at me before looking back at him. My heart thuds in my chest, picturing—no, remembering—how she used to stare at me with those stunning green eyes.
Ciaran’s voice, which is only a touch lighter than my own, rings out through the church as he seals their vows with his steady and resolute, “I do.”
I fucked up when I pushed her away, but I’ve never stopped wanting her. I just never expected her to run to him. I often wondered if she’d ever regretted her choice, but it’s painfully clear as the priest joins them in holy matrimony that she never regretted a thing… not even me.
Chapter One
Cameron
Anniversary Party
You’d think after five years I’d have gotten used to the idea of never being with Willow again. Her marriage to Ciaran is pretty much picture perfect… on the outside at least. Two years into their marriage he called me, broken and distressed, to tell me they’d probably never be able to have kids. Apparently his swimmers have low mobility, and since then things seem to have been slowly declining between them.
It’s not apparent to the other people gathered here, because as always when we’re in public he’s the life of the party, but I can see the sluggishness of his movements and his dilated pupils. He’s fucking high again and drunk. He’s always had this problem, but I thought he’d gotten past it, or maybe he’s just gotten better at hiding it.
The smile on Willow’s face is strained, and the pain in her eyes badly concealed…well, to me at least. She’s not happy, and neither is he, but I don’t know how to help them. What I do know is my own feelings haven’t become muted over the past five years, if anything, they’ve intensified.
While my brother is busy entertaining some of their guests with his erratic behavior, I approach Willow where she’s sitting. She looks up at me in surprise when I offer her my hand.
“Wanna dance?”
Her eyes track the room, looking for her husband, but mine never leave her. As she spots him across the room, laughing raucously with his friends, her eyes narrow and a glossy sheen sweeps over the surface, sparkling in the party lights. Her hands ball into fists on her lap, then snapping her gaze back to mine, she takes my hand without any further hesitation.
Willow’s skin is warm and soft, and I close my hand around her smaller one. Leading her out onto the dance floor, we join the mix of kids, single adults, and couples dancing and singing along to the cheesy classic pop, rock, and disco tracks the DJ puts on.
You Spin Me Right Round by Dead or Alive starts pulsing out of the sound system. As I spin her around and we dance and sing along, I can’t help reflecting on the irony of the lyrics. This woman has me wrapped around her finger and I feel like I’m spinning out of orbit whenever she’s in the room.
Willow’s eyes are closed and she’s smiling wider than I’ve seen her do all evening. Needing to touch her, I grab her by the hips and her eyes snap open. In the darkness with her body so close, I can’t stop the way mine reacts to hers. Even with the pulse of flashing, colored lights, I can see how she flushes when she feels my hard-on against her stomach. With my heart pounding, blood rushing south, and the slight haze from the alcohol, I’m finding it more and more difficult to recall why I shouldn’t be doing this.
I jump and let go of her when a hand claps down on my shoulder, and I turn, coming face to face with my reflection. The only difference between our appearances right now is I look more put together than my brother and am far less inebriated than him.
“Hey, bro,” he slurs and I force a grin onto my face as I pull him in for a hug.
“I was wondering when you’d come over and say hi,” I laugh, thankful the music drowns out the hollowness of my response.
I haven’t felt close to him in a long time. We may look identical on the outside, but inside we’re two very different men. The past few years have taken a toll on not only his marriage, but our relationship too. It makes me so angry to see how little compassion he’s been showing Willow, and how withdrawn and distant he’s become with everyone, including me. He may be my twin, but he
feels more like a stranger these days.
I’ve covered for him so many times over the years, and I still do now. But I’m reaching the end of my tether—I’m not keeping him afloat anymore. A pang of regret twists my stomach at the thought, but there’s only so much weight I can carry, I can’t take him on too. The fact I’m crazy about his wife to the point I fantasize about her almost every night only contributes to my resolve to put up more walls between us.
“Why don’t you two dance, it is your special night after all,” I suggest, clapping Ciaran on the shoulder and pressing a kiss on Willow’s cheek.
The faint scent of her perfume wafts up around me, and I’m grateful that my moan is smothered by Brian Johnson’s gravelly voice coming through the speakers as he belts out You Shook Me All Night Long. Fuck me, I wish I wasn’t so attracted to her—it complicates the already fucked up relationship I have with both her and Ciaran. I hate his guts, and I want to fuck his wife until she can’t walk straight. I need a cigarette and some air.
Standing on one of the balconies, I leave the door behind open to let the music drift outside. I take another drag of my cigarette as the tune dances and wraps itself around me like smoke. Exhaling, I just about hear the sound of footsteps coming up behind me over the bass of the music that’s shaking the floor with its beat. The heavy smell of liquor reaches my nose and I cringe, but after the click of a lighter, it’s soon overpowered by a sweet, herbal scent I recognize.
“Ciaran, why do you do it, man?” I ask without turning around, taking another puff of my cigarette and angling myself out of the path of the smoke coming from behind me.
“I can’t give her what she wants, and lately, the magic hasn’t been there either. Any tips on how to spice things up a little in the bedroom?”
“Quit the drink, moron,” I laugh, but my mind is racing at warp speed through every fantasy and memory I have of Willow.
It’s a good thing I’m not facing him, because I’m not sure I’d be able to conceal my erection from him, and there would be no doubt as to what, or rather who, is causing my blood to rush south.
“Blindfolds, spanking, role-play,” I mumble half-hardheartedly, wishing I could do all of those things with her instead of him.
To distract myself and keep from saying something to him about it, I take another drag, drawing the smoke deep into my lungs before slowly breathing it out in a thin, white plume.
“Thanks, Cam. I’ll talk to her and see if she wants to try any of those,” he says, far too loudly.
“No problem.”
I hear his dragging footsteps leave the balcony. I seriously hope he’s not about to ask her, in front of all of their friends and our family, if she wants to be spanked like a naughty schoolgirl while wearing a blindfold… but knowing him as well as I do, and judging from the strong stench of his toxic intake this evening, I expect he’s about to do just that.
Shrugging, I stub out my cigarette and toss the butt in the nearest ashtray before venturing back inside. May as well witness him making an ass of himself, if only to see Willow’s face and to picture how she would look bent over my knee.
Down, boy.
Chapter Two
Willow
Regret is a difficult thing to live with, and had I realized the extent of what that would mean, I would never have married Ciaran. I love my husband, but I haven’t been in love with him for a long time, and I suspect he feels the same way… that is, when he’s not too drunk or high to acknowledge the world around him. It’s always about him, and his feelings of failure for what he’s unable to provide.
When we discovered he couldn’t get me pregnant, I didn’t love him any less, but no matter how many times I reminded him I was happy as long as I had him, he refused to see it. The passion has long gone, maybe even before we discovered his infertility, and my heart is gradually growing colder. He shut me out, beat me down, and left me in the cold and dark without his warmth or light. I’ve not told anyone how I feel—what’s the point? We’re in this together, for better or worse, forever. The past five years have definitely felt like forever. I just wish the ‘worse’ hadn’t involved him abusing me whenever he’s having a bad day or gone on a bender.
It’s more than that, though. There’s a deeper pain that digs viciously into old scars, tearing them open and pouring vinegar on the fresh wounds. Cameron. Sometimes I wonder if he knows what Ciaran and I are going through, and the unrelenting ache that only he has ever managed to fill. I settled for less, and with every year that’s passed, I’ve come to regret it more and more. Cam didn’t want commitment, and he left me behind with the pain and his brother.
This is our party, but had I realized my mother-in-law and father-in-law had been planning to throw one for our fifth wedding anniversary, I’d have stopped them. I don’t want them all to see how much of a joke our marriage is. It’s bad enough being the center of attention, but Ciaran is a mess and we’ve only been here for two hours. I was ready to leave the moment we arrived.
I’m in the middle of listening to my best friend, Riley, telling me about what my little nephew has been getting up to now he’s toddling around. He’s currently buried himself in the ball pit of the soft play area, but from where I’m standing, I can see his little blue shoes peeking out. I giggle as I point in his direction, and she rolls her eyes, but the smile on her lips and love in her eyes for him is clear to anyone.
Our view of Robbie is blocked when my husband approaches. He’s got an unfamiliar look in his eyes beneath the swirl of alcohol, and he seems pretty lucid for a change. I saw him go out onto the balcony with Cameron a short while ago, so I’m hoping the fresh air has cleared his head a little. His large hand slapping my ass as he comes to stand by me is his usual greeting, but when he squeezes and slaps it again in plain view of everyone, the smile I was wearing falls off my face.
“Save it for later,” I giggle, trying to play it off as him being flirty, and I lean forward to kiss him.
I wonder how many people I’m actually fooling. It’s clear that he’s drunk, but I doubt anyone knows about the recreational drugs he likes to partake in. His pupils are wide and dark, but thankfully that could be attributed to the low lighting, along with the booze. His breath reeks, and I have to fight back a gag of disgust when he breathes on my face while squeezing my waist tightly enough that I’ll have a bruise tomorrow.
“Mmm, gonna tie you up and spank this later,” he murmurs, rubbing his other hand over my ass.
I’m sure my entire face has gone bright red, and I carefully sidestep away from his hand before he embarrasses us both any further. His expression darkens with anger for a moment, but even as wasted as he is, he’s cognitive enough to not make it obvious what goes on behind closed doors. Eyes burn into my back, and I don’t even need to turn around to know Cameron is staring at me again. Over the years his heated gaze has often been the fuel for my fantasies, and the memories of the intimate times we shared in the past have often been at the forefront of my mind when I’m alone.
Cameron and Ciaran may share the same face, but their bodies that once matched each other’s perfectly are no longer similar. Ciaran’s muscle tone has softened over the years due to his lack of care and self-abuse, no matter how much I’ve tried to manage him. Sometimes I’m not sure why I stay, but when I look at him and remember how kind and loving he used to be before he fell into addiction, and how he can be still, when he’s not drunk or high off his ass, I can’t bring myself to leave.
Ciaran picked up the pieces when Cameron left me. His kisses were the balm that soothed the ache, and his hands held the glue that put me back together. But over the past two years, the cracks have really begun to show, and the glue that kept me whole started flaking away, exposing the raw pain slowly resurfacing beneath.
Cameron comes over to us, and I throw a grateful glance his way when he drags his brother out of the room. I heave out a sigh of relief and turn back to Riley, whose eyebrow is raised.
“Is everything okay?
” she asks, bending down to pick up Robbie who has had enough of the balls and has come over for a cuddle.
“Hi, Wee-whoa,” he says brightly, his little voice tripping over my name as always.
I smile and lean close, blowing a raspberry on his cheek and making him squeal with laughter. He squirms in his mother’s arms and she sets him down, watching as he barrels toward the ball pit again.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Ciaran’s just had a few drinks and is being a bit more open with the PDA than usual.” I shrug, but she doesn’t seem convinced, and the concerned pinch in her eyebrows doesn’t relax.
“Well, as long as you’re sure…“ She pauses, and sensing I don’t want to talk about it, she changes the subject. “... I can’t help but notice the way Cameron acts around you. He has it bad, sweety. I never will understand how you managed to score twins. Lucky, bitch.”
She bumps my shoulder with hers and I grin weakly at her. “Yeah, I’m not sure either.”
I look up as Ciaran reappears, but Cameron is no longer with him. I’m not sure where he’s gone, and I curse at myself for even wondering. He could have easily left with one of the other guests, or just gone home. Ciaran seems a little out of it still, but I notice that the strands of hair around his face are wet, so I’m guessing Cameron had him splash cold water on his face to snap him out of it.
Outlaws: A Romance Anthology Page 14