Chapter 2

The guest house was quiet.

Vivian Reeve, the wife of Damien Reeve, (Mayor Leonard’s best friend) pushed the door open without knocking. She didn't have to. She had a key, and honestly, she didn't care anymore.

Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she walked in like she owned the place - because she kinda did.

The smell of cologne and weed hung in the air. She found him on the couch, legs spread, shirt off, looking like he just woke up from a nap or came back from the gym, or both.

"Damn," she said, smirking. "You really don't do anything all day, huh?"

Luca Reeve, Damien’s younger brother, looked up from his phone, eyes dragging over her body. His mouth curved into that cocky little grin he always wore when he knew she wanted something.

Vivian didn't waste time.

She dropped her purse. Slid off her coat.

Underneath? Nothing but a silk slip dress. No bra. No panties. Just smooth skin and soft fabric clinging to curves that knew exactly what they were doing.

Luca sat up. "You're not wearing shit under that, are you?"

"Nope."

He stood, closing the space between them in two steps. "You're outta your damn mind."

"And wet," she added, grabbing his hand and sliding it under the hem of her dress.

He didn't hesitate. Didn't ask stupid questions. His fingers slipped between her thighs, and he groaned under his breath.

"Fuck, Viv."

"Told you."

He pushed her back against the wall, lips crashing into hers, rough and fast, hands everywhere. Her dress bunched up around her waist as she wrapped

her legs around his.

She moaned into his mouth, pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants. "Take it off."

"Say please."

She bit his lip. "I'll say it when you earn it."

He spun her around, pressed her face-first against the wall, and yanked the dress up over her ass.

His hands gripped her hips tightly. "Still think I haven't earned it?"

Vivian grinned, then gasped as he slapped her ass, hard.

"Shut up," he said, his voice deep, and rough. "Let me remind you who the fuck you keep running back to."

She heard the sound of his pants dropping. Felt the heat of his body pressed behind her.

And then?

One smooth thrust.

She let out a loud, shaky moan as he slid deep into her pussy. No warning. No build-up. Just straight-up filth.

"Fuuuck-yes," she gasped, gripping the wall. "Don't fucking stop."

He didn't.

Luca grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back, his other hand on her waist as he pounded into her hard, steady, deep. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, mixed with her moans, his grunts, the heavy rhythm of bodies that didn't care about right or wrong.

She arched her back, meeting every thrust. "Harder."

"You're such a slut for me," he growled in her ear.

"And you love it."

He pulled out suddenly. She turned around, breathless, lips swollen.

"Get on the couch," he said.

Vivian didn't argue. She lay back on the couch, legs spread, dress pushed up, nothing but sin between her thighs.

Luca dropped to his knees, face level with everything he had been thinking about since the last time she left without saying goodbye.

His mouth was on her in seconds, his tongue slow at first, teasing her juicy pussy just to piss her off.

She twitched her hips up. "Stop playing with me." He didn't answer. Just sucked harder, faster. One arm hooked under her leg, keeping her right where he wanted her. His tongue flicked fast, filthy, and deep - the way only someone who knew her body like his own could do.

She was a mess in minutes. Hair wild, voice wrecked, toes curling.

"Luca-" she cried out, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

He didn't stop until she was shaking, legs trembling, gasping his name like a prayer she didn't mean.

He stood, smirking. "That mouth of yours goes real quiet when I'm down there."

"Shut up and fuck me again."

He pulled her to the edge of the couch, spread her legs wide, and shoved back in. Both of them moaned this time - like it had been weeks instead of three days.

Vivian leaned back, eyes rolling, one hand between her legs rubbing herself while he slammed into her.

"Shit-just like that—"

"Don't tell me how," he said, grabbing her hips, pulling her tighter against him. "Just take it."

And she did.

She took all of it, the way he gripped her thighs, the way he whispered her name like it was a dirty word, the way he looked at her like she belonged to him even though she wore his brother’s ring.

She was close again. She could feel it - tight in her stomach, burning up her spine.

He saw it in her face.

"Don't come yet. Don’t fucking dare.”

"Then slow down," she said breathlessly.

He didn't.

He went harder.

Her moans got louder. The slap of skin, the creak of the couch, the sound of her losing it, all of it filled the room.

She came with a loud cry, legs shaking, head falling back, body twitching under him.

Luca didn't stop.

He wasn't done.

He flipped her over, ass up, face buried in the cushions. He grabbed her by the waist and slid into her pussy again, no teasing this time. Just rough, deep strokes that made her whimper and bite the pillow.

"You wanted nasty," he said, pounding into her. "This is nasty."

"God, yes."

Her fingers dug into the cushion. "Don't pull out."

He didn't.

When he finally came, it was with a deep groan, hips jerking against her. He stayed there, both of them sweating, bodies tangled, chests rising and falling in sync.

They didn't say anything for a while.

Just breathed.

Vivian eventually turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. "Still think I'm your brother's sweet little wife?"

Luca chuckled, still inside her. "You are sweet, just for me.”

She smiled. "Good."