Forbidden Hands on My Silk Robe - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading Forbidden Hands on My Silk Robe, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of Forbidden Hands on My Silk Robe.
My husband flashed that devilish smirk of his, his fingers wrapping around my ankle as his large hand slid up my bare leg, slipping beneath the sheets.
"Oh, you're really craving it tonight, aren't you?"
Before I could respond, he ducked under the covers, his lips pressing a searing kiss against the delicate skin of my inner thigh. A bolt of electricity shot through me, making my entire body shudder. Instinctively, my legs clamped around his head like a vise.
He knew me too well—every weak spot, every sensitive inch. With just the firm press of his palm against my waist, I melted into the mattress, my limbs turning pliant beneath his touch.
"Alright, alright," he murmured, pulling back with a chuckle. "I'll stop teasing. I really do have to go, but I'll make it up to you tomorrow."
And just like that, he was gone.
I lay there, limp and breathless, the heat he'd ignited still pulsing through me in relentless waves.
But the truth was… my husband's touch wasn't the only thing consuming my thoughts.
No—what haunted me even more was the memory of his younger brother.
The warmth of his body still lingered on my palms from earlier, when I'd shoved him away.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, shameful images flickered behind my eyelids, impossible to shake. My cheeks burned as my fingers trailed up to knead my own breasts, my breath coming in soft, uneven pants.
It wasn't enough. Not even close. Toys could never satisfy this hunger—what could my own trembling hands possibly do?
My imagination spiraled out of control, conjuring up my brother-in-law standing before me, his face blurring into my husband's. The thought of his raw, overwhelming masculinity sent a thrill straight down my spine.
Madness. Desire. Shame.
I twisted beneath the sheets, writhing until exhaustion dragged me under—yet the fire inside only burned hotter.
Frustrated, I dragged myself to the bathroom, letting the steam wrap around me as I closed my eyes, reliving every forbidden sensation.
Then—darkness.
The lights cut out, plunging the room into pitch black.
A startled scream tore from my throat. A power outage?
I fumbled blindly for a towel, only to remember—I'd left it in the bedroom.
No towel. No clothes.
When my husband was home, I never bothered dressing after a shower—I'd just throw myself at him, bare and shameless.
My brother-in-law had to be asleep by now. Biting my lip, I cracked open the door and tiptoed out, naked and dripping.
The cool air kissed my damp skin, but the heat between my thighs was unbearable.
The sheer audacity of what I was doing sent shivers of excitement racing through me.
I imagined rough hands grabbing me in the dark, pinning me down—
But no. My husband wasn't here. Only his brother.
Then—fantasy became reality.
A large hand settled on my waist, fingers kneading gently. "Don't be scared, sis."
I jolted. "Y-you—what are you doing here?!"
He draped a towel around me before effortlessly scooping me into his arms, carrying me toward the bedroom. "Bringing you this."
His scorching warmth seeped into my chilled skin, making me squirm. "P-put me down—!"
A sharp smack landed on my backside, sending a jolt of heat straight through me. "Stop wriggling."
That single slap drained all resistance from my body. I went limp in his arms, powerless.
His breathing grew heavier in the dark, stirring something reckless inside me.
Was he really just taking me to bed? Or would he do… more?
I couldn't see his face, but his strong arms, his muscled frame, the raw masculinity radiating off him—it all felt so familiar. So intoxicating.
He tossed me onto the mattress and yanked the towel away.
As my eyes adjusted, my stomach dropped—he wasn't wearing anything either.
My mind went blank. "G-get out!"
He didn't answer. Instead, he flipped me onto my stomach, his hands kneading my hips like dough.
"Oh, you're really craving it tonight, aren't you?"
Before I could respond, he ducked under the covers, his lips pressing a searing kiss against the delicate skin of my inner thigh. A bolt of electricity shot through me, making my entire body shudder. Instinctively, my legs clamped around his head like a vise.
He knew me too well—every weak spot, every sensitive inch. With just the firm press of his palm against my waist, I melted into the mattress, my limbs turning pliant beneath his touch.
"Alright, alright," he murmured, pulling back with a chuckle. "I'll stop teasing. I really do have to go, but I'll make it up to you tomorrow."
And just like that, he was gone.
I lay there, limp and breathless, the heat he'd ignited still pulsing through me in relentless waves.
But the truth was… my husband's touch wasn't the only thing consuming my thoughts.
No—what haunted me even more was the memory of his younger brother.
The warmth of his body still lingered on my palms from earlier, when I'd shoved him away.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, shameful images flickered behind my eyelids, impossible to shake. My cheeks burned as my fingers trailed up to knead my own breasts, my breath coming in soft, uneven pants.
It wasn't enough. Not even close. Toys could never satisfy this hunger—what could my own trembling hands possibly do?
My imagination spiraled out of control, conjuring up my brother-in-law standing before me, his face blurring into my husband's. The thought of his raw, overwhelming masculinity sent a thrill straight down my spine.
Madness. Desire. Shame.
I twisted beneath the sheets, writhing until exhaustion dragged me under—yet the fire inside only burned hotter.
Frustrated, I dragged myself to the bathroom, letting the steam wrap around me as I closed my eyes, reliving every forbidden sensation.
Then—darkness.
The lights cut out, plunging the room into pitch black.
A startled scream tore from my throat. A power outage?
I fumbled blindly for a towel, only to remember—I'd left it in the bedroom.
No towel. No clothes.
When my husband was home, I never bothered dressing after a shower—I'd just throw myself at him, bare and shameless.
My brother-in-law had to be asleep by now. Biting my lip, I cracked open the door and tiptoed out, naked and dripping.
The cool air kissed my damp skin, but the heat between my thighs was unbearable.
The sheer audacity of what I was doing sent shivers of excitement racing through me.
I imagined rough hands grabbing me in the dark, pinning me down—
But no. My husband wasn't here. Only his brother.
Then—fantasy became reality.
A large hand settled on my waist, fingers kneading gently. "Don't be scared, sis."
I jolted. "Y-you—what are you doing here?!"
He draped a towel around me before effortlessly scooping me into his arms, carrying me toward the bedroom. "Bringing you this."
His scorching warmth seeped into my chilled skin, making me squirm. "P-put me down—!"
A sharp smack landed on my backside, sending a jolt of heat straight through me. "Stop wriggling."
That single slap drained all resistance from my body. I went limp in his arms, powerless.
His breathing grew heavier in the dark, stirring something reckless inside me.
Was he really just taking me to bed? Or would he do… more?
I couldn't see his face, but his strong arms, his muscled frame, the raw masculinity radiating off him—it all felt so familiar. So intoxicating.
He tossed me onto the mattress and yanked the towel away.
As my eyes adjusted, my stomach dropped—he wasn't wearing anything either.
My mind went blank. "G-get out!"
He didn't answer. Instead, he flipped me onto my stomach, his hands kneading my hips like dough.
End of Forbidden Hands on My Silk Robe Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Forbidden Hands on My Silk Robe book page.