For Bella, it was a long day, especially for her mouth and tongue.
Ethan was like a boy in the first flush of young love, unable to keep his hands or lips off his beloved for more than a few minutes, even if that beloved was, unbearably, his brother’s wife.
The kiss on the kitchen island lingered endlessly, as if Ethan never wanted it to end. Only when Bella finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, did she manage a faint protest.
“Ethan… I—I have to start lunch…”
He released her slowly, though his eyes were dark with reluctance. “Okay,” he murmured, voice rough, pressing one last lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Ethan helped as usual, but today there was a new urgency in him.
He moved with the fluid, almost inhuman speed of a seasoned Hunter: vegetables diced in perfect cubes in seconds, garlic minced finer than any chef could manage, meat seared and resting before the pan had even fully heated.
What normally took them nearly half an hour was finished in five minutes flat.
Bella stood at the counter, her eyes wide as she watched Ethan drop the neatly prepared ingredients into the stew pot, lined up like soldiers.
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, a shy, boyish flush creeping up his tanned cheeks. “Usually… I just wanted to stay beside you a little longer,” he admitted quietly. “So I took my time.”
Bella’s heart flipped. A soft laugh escaped her, half amused, half exasperated, and she reached up with her small fist to thump his broad chest, no real force behind it, just affection.
The moment the gentle blow landed, Ethan’s arms were around her. In one effortless motion he lifted her, setting her back on the kitchen island, stepping between her thighs again.
“Now,” he whispered, voice low and velvet, eyes burning into hers, “I have extra time… to kiss you.”
His mouth descended before she could answer.
Spoiler
[collapse]
This kiss was different, playful at first, a soft press of lips that made her smile against him, then deeper, warmer, filled with quiet joy. Bella felt laughter bubble in her chest even as heat pooled low in her belly.
This man, this towering, scarred Hunter who could fell monsters without breaking a sweat, kept melting her with simple, devastating tenderness.
Something inside her softened.
Her small hands slid up his chest to curl at his nape, and, for the first time that day, she actively offered her tongue. She rose to meet him, sliding the soft tip along his lower lip, then deeper, curling shyly around his in a slow, sweet stroke.
Ethan groaned softly, the sound vibrating through her, and answered with gentle suction, drawing her tongue into his mouth to taste her more fully.
Their tongues tangled in a slow, wet dance, soft sighs and quiet moans filling the kitchen. Bella’s bare pussy, pressed against the edge of the counter, pulsed gently with each stroke of his tongue, fresh slickness gathering and slipping down her inner thighs.
She felt warm all over, and aching with guilt-tinged affection.
This man kept finding new ways to touch her heart, and every time, she found herself responding just a little more.
Early afternoon, when the sun was warm but not yet harsh, Bella headed to the laundry room to move the load from the washer to the line outside.
She opened the front-loading machine and pulled out the damp clothes piece by piece. The fabric was heavy with water, cool against her fingers. She dropped them into the large wicker basket at her feet, the faint scent of fabric softener rising in the steamy air.
Ethan appeared in the doorway almost immediately, drawn by the soft sounds of her movements. He watched for a moment—her small frame bending slightly, the hem of her lone oversized t-shirt riding up to reveal the lower curve of her bare ass—then stepped forward to help.
As Bella reached for the first wet shirt to give it a sharp shake, Ethan’s large hand moved to take it from her.
Her small fingers closed quickly around his thick forearm instead. Her pale hand looked almost doll-like against the sun-bronzed, corded muscle—barely able to circle half its girth. She laughed softly, blue eyes tilting up to meet his.
“If you shake these with your Hunter strength, they’ll be in shreds,” she teased, voice warm and fond. “Gentle, okay? Slow and easy.”
Ethan’s expression softened into that shy, boyish half-smile she was beginning to adore. He nodded, a faint flush on his tanned cheeks, and took the shirt with exaggerated care. One by one, he shook each piece slowly, before folding them loosely into the basket.
He paused for a long moment as he took Bella’s lace underwear out of the washing machine, holding it up with both hands in front of him, staring at it until Bella gave him an embarrassed shove.
When the basket was full and heavy with damp laundry, Ethan lifted it effortlessly with one arm. In Bella’s hands it always felt awkward and bulky; in his, it looked comically small, dwarfed by the sheer size of his frame.
He glanced toward the open back door, where bright sunlight poured in.
“You stay inside,” he murmured. “It’s hot out there.”
Bella didn’t protest. She poured a tall glass of iced tea—the ice cubes clinking softly, condensation already forming on the cold glass—and settled on the shaded doorstep just beneath the porch, her toes curling into the grass, bare thighs resting against the cool tiles. Through the warm rays, she watched him carry the basket out to the clothesline.
Sunlight glinted off his broad shoulders and the faint scar on his cheek as he worked. Each piece was hung with the same careful precision, shirts smoothed flat, delicate items clipped gently by their corners so they wouldn’t stretch. The breeze lifted the fabric softly, and Ethan moved down the line with quiet efficiency, the towering Hunter turned domestic in the most heart-melting way.
As Ethan stepped back into the shaded porch, the empty basket still resting lightly on his hip, Bella held out the glass of iced tea, frost beading along its sides and dripping slowly in the warm air.
“Here… for all your hard work,” she said softly, a gentle smile curving her lips.
Ethan didn’t take the glass. His dark eyes moved from the chilled drink to her face, then his large, sun-warmed hand slowly closed over hers — completely enveloping both her small hand and the cold glass at once. The sharp contrast between the icy condensation and the heat of his skin sent a pleasant shiver up Bella’s arm.
Without hurry, he guided her hand downward, setting the untouched glass carefully on the cool tiled floor beside them.
Then, Ethan lowered himself to the step.
He sat close beside her, his long legs stretching out past the edge of the porch while hers remained tucked beneath her on the shaded tile. The sudden shift in height brought his broad shoulders level with her seated frame; sunlight still clung to the back of his shirt and neck, while the porch shadow cooled the space around them both.
Ethan leaned down slowly, one arm bracing on the floor behind her for balance. Bella tilted her chin up to meet him, her bare toes curling slightly against the cool grass as she shifted just enough to close the small distance.
Spoiler
[collapse]
They kissed in that quiet, uneven posture — him bending from above, her rising gently to meet him halfway. His shadow fell fully over her now, shielding her from the lingering rays that filtered through the open doorway. The faint breeze carried the scent of freshly hung laundry and cut grass past them, stirring loose strands of her hair against his cheek.
Neither moved to change position; they simply stayed there on the step, his large frame curved protectively toward her smaller one, lips meeting in soft, lingering contact as the afternoon settled around them.
The iced tea sat forgotten on the floor, beads of water trailing quietly down its side.
And Bella, barefoot on the cool grass, bare beneath the thin cotton shirt, let herself be kissed thoroughly—knowing the clothes were hung, the day was long, and Ethan’s gentle hunger showed no sign of fading anytime soon.
Late afternoon, Bella settled into the spacious living room with her laptop balanced on her thighs. The t-shirt pooled around her hips as she curled into the corner of the plush sectional sofa, bare legs tucked beneath her. Soft sun light bathed the room in a warm glow, and the quiet clack of keys filled the air.
She was deep in her work, writing fantasy action novels that had, over the past few years, found a devoted readership.
The income was more than respectable; she could proudly say she earned well above average, enough to have a comfortable savings account entirely her own. Compared to Daniel’s daily earnings at Quantum Nexus, of course, it was pocket change—barely a rounding error on one of his contracts. Yet that small financial independence mattered deeply to her.
Writing was the one thing that was wholly hers. Every royalty deposit felt like proof that she still had value beyond being the beautiful wife on a powerful man’s arm.
When she bought gifts for Daniel—simple things like a soft cotton scarf, a leather-bound notebook, or the worn gray hoodie he still wore on lazy weekends—she could hand them over with genuine pride and say, “This came from my own sweat and tears.”
And Daniel, for all his billions, seemed to treasure those gifts most of all. They were the pieces he reached for first, the ones he refused to replace even when threads frayed and colors faded. Seeing him wear something she’d earned with her own words always filled her with a quiet, fierce glow of worth.
She typed the final sentence of the chapter, saved the file, and stretched her arms high above her head with a satisfied sigh. The motion pulled the t-shirt tight across her full breasts for a moment, then let it fall back loosely as she arched her back and rolled her shoulders.
That was when she noticed Ethan.
The soft clink of ice against glass announced Ethan before she saw him. He padded in from the kitchen, skin still flushed and faintly gleaming from the workout he’d finished minutes ago.
A faint sheen of sweat clung to the lines of his chest and shoulders; the heat radiating off him reached her even across the room. In one hand he carried a tall glass of water with lemon slices floating lazily at the top.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just crossed the space between them, set the glass on the coaster beside her laptop, and dropped onto the sofa next to her—close enough that the cushion dipped and her body tilted instinctively toward him.
“Thanks,” she murmured, reaching for the glass. Her fingers brushed his as she took it, and she felt the warmth of his skin like a small spark.
Ethan watched her drink, his breathing still a little deeper than usual, chest rising and falling in the last light of the sun. He smelled clean—soap and effort and something unmistakably him. Bella put the glass down and let her head fall back against the cushion, eyes half-closed.
“You finished it?” he asked, voice low.
She nodded. “Yeah. Finally.”
“Good.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He shifted, stretching one arm along the back of the sofa behind her. Not quite touching, but close enough that she could feel the heat of him along her bare shoulder.
For a moment they simply sat there, the quiet wrapping around them. Outside, the last trace of daylight disappeared; Bella felt the pleasant ache of accomplishment in her chest, the looseness in her limbs, the soft cotton of the t-shirt against her skin and nothing else.
Ethan’s gaze moved over her face—slow, deliberate. She noticed, but didn’t look away. His fingers played with a stray strand of her hair, the touch feather-light.
Then, without warning, he leaned in.
Spoiler
[collapse]
It wasn’t tentative. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, warm and sure, tilting her head just enough as his mouth found hers. The kiss was sudden, deep—hungry in a way that stole her breath and replaced it with his.
Bella made a soft sound of surprise against his lips, which quickly melted into something warmer and more inviting. She stayed relaxed, leaning back into the sofa with her head slightly tilted, allowing Ethan to kiss her as he wished.
He tasted faintly of salt and cool lemon. His thumb stroked along her jaw as he angled the kiss deeper.
The kiss slowed but didn’t gentle; it lingered, deliberate and unhurried, as though he’d been thinking about this moment all along during his training and now refused to rush it.
When they finally parted, it was only inches. His forehead rested lightly against hers, both of them breathing the same air.
Bella’s eyes fluttered open. “Satisfied yet?” she whispered, a small smile curving her lips.
Ethan murmured, “No...”
She answered by closing the small distance again.
The room grew darker amid the sound of passionate kisses, while outside, the evening deepened into night.
“So, you kissed Ethan like that during dinner too, huh?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“It was him kissing me.”
Daniel burst out laughing.
Evening, in the private office of the CEO of Quantum Nexus, Daniel sat in his high-backed leather chair, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, looking every inch the powerful CEO—except for the beautiful woman curled intimately in his lap.
Bella straddled him, her small, curvaceous body fitting perfectly against his taller frame. Her full breasts pressed softly into his chest with each breath, the thin straps of her sundress slipping just a fraction down her pale shoulders, teasing the creamy swell of her cleavage.
Daniel's hands rested possessively on her hips, thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles over the soft curve where her waist met her round ass—dipping lower occasionally to brush the hem of her dress, reminding her of his constant claim.
She held the bento box she'd lovingly prepared this evening—one that had been constantly interrupted by Ethan's relentless kisses.
Slices of glazed carrots, tender beef simmered to perfection, rice dotted with herbs. She picked up a carrot and lifted it to his lips, her doe-like blue eyes wide with a mix of shyness and lingering heat from a whole day of forbidden kisses—lips still slightly swollen from Ethan's devotion.
Daniel took the bite slowly, his green eyes locking onto hers, a predatory glint in their depths. The crunch of the vegetable was the only sound for a moment, until he swallowed and leaned in closer, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her core. "So, he kissed you the entire day? My sweet, shy little wife... letting my brother taste what's mine."
Bella's cheeks bloomed with a deep crimson flush. She lowered her gaze, her long lashes fluttering against her skin as she gave a small, hesitant nod—barely more than a dip of her chin, shy and reluctant, as if the admission itself burned her.
"Even while you were cooking this dinner for me?" Daniel pressed, his tone teasing but laced with dark possession. One hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her wavy golden hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back and expose the delicate column of her throat—where his lips brushed a hot, open-mouthed kiss that made her shiver.
She gave his chest a punch, but there was no force behind it—only a breathless laugh that turned into a soft, needy gasp. "You already saw everything through the cameras, didn't you? You always watch me..."
Daniel's lips curved into a wicked smile. He captured her mouth in a quick, claiming kiss—firm and unyielding, tongue flicking teasingly against hers—before pulling back. "I was buried in meetings, love. Too busy to spy on every delicious detail." His eyes darkened, hunger flickering like embers. "How about you tell me."
Bella, embarrassed, buried her flushed face deeper against Daniel's chest, her forehead pressing into the warm fabric of his shirt as if she could disappear into him entirely. Her voice came out muffled and barely audible, a tiny, trembling whisper against his heartbeat. "Yes... he... he kissed me a lot."
She squeezed her eyes shut, her arms wrapping tighter around his waist in a shy, instinctive cling, as though seeking protection from her own confession. Her breath hitched, warm and uneven against his skin.
Daniel selected a glazed carrot with his chopsticks, holding it to her lips. She parted them obediently, her tongue darting out to taste the sweetness, eyes fluttering half-closed as a soft hum escaped her throat. He watched, transfixed by the way her throat moved, the subtle arch of her back that pushed her breasts forward—nipples already pebbling against the thin fabric.
"Even while you were slicing these carrots? His mouth on yours, distracting my good girl from her duties?"
Bella's lashes trembled as she nodded again, smaller this time, the motion almost imperceptible against the lingering heat in her cheeks. Her lips parted on a shaky exhale, the taste of glazed carrot still sweet on her tongue, but it was the memory that made her throat tighten.
"Yes," she whispered, voice barely threading through the air, fragile and raw. "He... he came up behind me while I was chopping. His hands on my waist, pulling me back against him... and then he just—kissed me. Slow at first. Then deeper. I... I almost dropped the knife."
Her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of Daniel's shirt, knuckles whitening as if anchoring herself against the wave of embarrassment crashing over her. She pressed her burning face harder into his chest, hiding there, her breath coming in shallow, uneven puffs.
"I tried to keep working," she mumbled against him, voice muffled and trembling with shame. "But he wouldn't stop. Kept kissing my neck, my jaw... whispering things while I held the knife...
A tiny, mortified whimper slipped out, her body curling smaller in his lap, as though she could fold herself away from her own confession.
Daniel picked a piece of tender beef next, the meat glistening with juices. He fed it to her slowly, fingers brushing her lips deliberately, lingering to feel their plush warmth. "And while this beef was simmering on the stove... was he there, pressing you against the counter, kissing you deep?"
A soft, helpless nod slipped from her lips as her nipples grew visibly erect beneath the thin sundress, their aching peaks yearning for touch. A fresh warmth spread between her thighs, a slickness glistening against her skin.
Daniel's voice dropped to a husky whisper, thick with arousal. "With tongue? Like this?"
Before she could respond, he surged forward, his mouth crashing onto hers in a kiss that was pure fire. His tongue plunged deep, seeking the half-chewed morsel of beef on her tongue. He licked it from her slowly, sensually—coaxing it back and forth in a filthy, intimate dance that mimicked far deeper thrusts, making her hips roll instinctively against his growing hardness.
Bella moaned into him, her hands fisting his shirt, body melting as waves of pleasure rippled through her core. The kiss was wet, messy, filled with the salty-sweet taste of the meat and the deeper, addictive flavor of their shared desire—her arousal scenting the air between them.
When he finally claimed the bite fully, swallowing it with a satisfied groan, she was left panting, lips bruised and glistening, chest heaving.
Her face pressed once again against his chest, her voice muffled and tinged with embarrassment. "Daniel... please, stop asking..."
But he didn't stop. His free hand dipped lower, slipping beneath the hem of her sundress with practiced ease. Fingers traced the edge of her lace panties, already soaked through from the day's teasing and now this—fabric clinging transparently to her swollen folds.
He pushed the fabric aside, his touch bold and unapologetic as he dragged a finger through her slick, dripping folds. She was drenched—hot, swollen, quivering, her arousal coating his fingers instantly. "Bells... you're dripping for this. Telling me about my brother while I touch you... does it make you ache?"
Bella gasped sharply, her hips bucking involuntarily as his fingers circled her clit with agonizing slowness—teasing the sensitive nub until it throbbed. She arched back in his arms, head falling against his shoulder, exposing the curve of her neck where he nipped gently, then soothed with his tongue. The sensation shot straight to her core, making her inner walls clench greedily.
"So wet already," he murmured against her skin, voice rough with need. "Tell me, love... did he use his tongue every time? Licking into you like he owned you?"
She nodded into his shoulder, a soft sob escaping as his fingers sank deeper—one, then two—stretching her with delicious, burning pressure. Her body betrayed her, hips grinding down to take him further, chasing the building heat, slick sounds growing louder.
"Every single time?" He curled his fingers inside her, stroking that sensitive spot that made stars burst behind her eyelids, her thighs trembling around his.
"Y-yes... umnn, Daniel..."
Daniel's thumb pressed firmly against her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles while his fingers thrust slowly, deliberately—curling, scissoring, driving her mad. The wet sounds of her arousal filled the office, obscene and intoxicating, her scent thick in the air.
"And did you kiss him back, love?" he asked, low and dangerous, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Every single time… did your sweet little tongue slip into his mouth? Did you taste him the way you're tasting me now? Tell me, Bella. Did you kiss my brother back with that shy tongue of yours?"
A soft, mortified moan tore from her throat.
"Y-yes… I… I did. My tongue… against his…, Daniel… I’m sorry…"
Her confession dissolved into a sharp cry as he rewarded her honesty with a harder thrust of his fingers, her walls clenching desperately around him, shame and ecstasy twisting together.
Bella felt it —the thick, insistent ridge of Daniel’s cock swelling harder beneath her, pressing up against the soft heat of her soaked core through their clothes.
The moment her trembling confession left her lips — I did… my tongue against his… — his arousal surged, hot and undeniable, throbbing in response to her shameful honesty.
She froze for a moment. Without a word, Bella tightened her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer until there was no space left between them.
She buried her face deeper into the crook of his chest, nose pressed against the warm skin above his collar, lips trembling against the steady thud of his heartbeat.
Her body curled smaller in his lap, thighs squeezing his hand still working inside her, as though she could disappear entirely into his embrace.
Daniel went still for a long, quiet moment. The air was thick with the wet, rhythmic sounds of his fingers moving inside her—slow, deliberate thrusts that never paused, stroking her slick walls even as the rest of him held perfectly motionless. Each subtle push dragged a soft, involuntary whimper from her throat, her hips twitching helplessly in tiny circles against his hand.
His free arm tightened around her—slowly, deliberately—pulling her trembling body harder against his chest until she was crushed to him, breasts flattened to his shirt. His fingers kept their steady, merciless rhythm deep inside her, knuckles glistening with her arousal, the lewd squelch of every thrust echoing faintly between them.
She could feel his heartbeat thundering against her cheek, strong and unhurried, in stark contrast to the way his hand kept fucking her—slow, deep, possessive—refusing to grant her even a moment’s reprieve from the pleasure he was wringing from her body.
For those few breathless seconds, he simply held her like that, one arm locking her tight to his chest, letting her hide in the warm safety of him, while the other kept claiming her relentlessly, fingers buried to the hilt, reminding her with every slick glide that she was utterly, completely his.
Then, just as gradually, his grip loosened. He eased her back just enough to look at her—eyes dark, pupils blown wide with hunger, but softened at the edges with something possessive and indulgent.
His voice came low, rough with desire, lips curling into a wicked half-smile.
“Show me how he did it,” he murmured “Show me how my little brother devoured your pretty mouth while you cooked my dinner. Open for me, baby.”
Bella's breath trembled. Slowly, shyly, she lifted her face, lips parting. Her tongue extended just a fraction—pink, wet, and inviting— offering herself.
Daniel's gaze burned with possession and adoration. He leaned in, claiming her mouth gently at first, letting her guide the dance.
Then Bella moved—her tongue sliding against his in slow, deliberate strokes, recreating Ethan's hunger, deep, worshipful sweeps that explored every inch, licking and sucking with a fervor that spoke of years of pent-up longing, her moans vibrating into his mouth.
She moaned into the kiss, demonstrating how Ethan's tongue had tangled with hers—greedy, reverent, making her feel desired beyond words. All the while, Daniel's fingers pumped into her relentlessly, his palm grinding against her clit, building her toward the edge with merciless precision.
The office air thickened with her soft cries and the slick rhythm of his hand.
Bella's hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging in as pleasure coiled tight in her belly. Tears pricked her eyes—not from pain, but from the overwhelming rush of emotions, the forbidden thrill of Ethan's kisses, Daniel's unyielding love, the way her body surrendered to both.
Daniel broke the kiss just enough to whisper against her lips, his voice ragged. "I love you, Bella."
And Bella shattered—her body clenching around his fingers in pulsing, milking waves, a broken moan spilling from her lips as ecstasy washed over her in hot, blinding surges.
Her slickness gushed over his hand, thighs quaking, back arching as she rode the pleasure.
Daniel held her through it, kissing her forehead tenderly, his own arousal straining hard against her, promising more...