Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight; I just own a dirty mind.

Prologue

The sounds of her low moans and the slapping of skin filled the silence of the house.

"Tell me how much you love my cock," I heard his gravelly voice as he demanded a response from her. This was not part of his job. He wasn't supposed to talk. He was sent in to fuck her and do the job that I was not able to get done.

I waited with held breath and bitter thoughts for her response.

Don't say it.

Say you still love me.

Say that he is nothing.

"Yes," she hissed loudly, shattering my heart as the sounds of their frantic fucking filled the air.

"That's it my dirty girl," he groaned loudly in a triumphant manner as I shook my head. He knew I was listening.

"Come on my cock again. Show me how much you love my cock fucking you," he grunted loudly, ripping my heart out as she moaned in response. I knew that moan. It was her on the edge of madness. I had earned that moan once, the same moan she gave him freely.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be anything more than her getting what she wanted, what I couldn't give her, but what my own brother could. It was supposed to be about creating a child that would genetically related to me and since I was not able accomplish that my brother reluctantly volunteered to assist us. It was supposed to be Edward fucking her senseless or her actually enjoying it. It was supposed to be fast and emotionless, not him degrading her and her enjoying it.

"So fucking wet, baby. So fucking wet for me," he moaned as I cringed over the wet sounds their fucking created as it making the ache in my cock intensify. I hated that listening to him fuck her made me hard, made me want to be inside of her as well, even though just thinking of them like that made me sick. I hated that she was wet for him. I almost hated her and that thought made me sick as well.

"I love your pussy," he grunted as the bed creaked under the strain of their movement as I swallowed the bile that had risen in the back of my throat over the thought of him inside of her.

She was mine. She was my wife. He was fucking my wife. He was fucking my wife because I had asked him. I had told him he was my brother and I could only trust him to do this for me. I told him that I needed him to do this. I guilted him every chance I got, reminding him of the lost happiness Rose and I were suffering from, and how only he could help us. I had no idea what I was doing or the fire I was playing with since the moment he said yes changed everything.

The moans reached a frenzied peak as the head board continued to bang against the wall, punctuating him fucking her with each loud bang as Rosie cried out in what I hoped was pleasure. The ache in my balls increased as I listened to her come. It was torture of the sweetest design to hear my wife cry out like that since it only made my shameful need to fuck her hard after him increase.

I listened to Edward's gritty groan that signaled his end while I unbuttoned my pants in hope to release some of the pressure I felt, but it was no use. I was too hard, too ready to be second best in her life and part of me hated it. Part of me hated her that I had been reduced to this.

I opened the bed room door and found him still collapsed on top of her. Both of their bodies, glistening with sweat, were heaving from the exertion as they gasped for air. The room reeked of sex and spent pussy, but it was nothing short of the most amazing scent in the world to me. I loved her like this and it only added to my hate for her.

I watched as Edward continued to slowly rock inside of her, his fingers were working against her clit, milking her for every bit of cum she would give him as grinded his softening cock in and out of her. It was disturbing and erotic all at once as I watched him pleasure my wife as if he was born to.

"That's it," he murmured soothingly in-between the soft kisses he pepper the sweat glistening skin of her back. Rose's body arched in response to her orgasm while a low moan escaped her lips just as her sex glazed eyes met mine in embarrassment. I could see the fear and humiliation in her eyes as she held my gaze for the space of a heartbeat before closing them in pleasure as her body's reaction took over once more.

"Come for me, sweetness. Come on my cock," he cooed to her while ignoring me as I stood there, pants down and dick in hand. It was my turn and he knew it, but he was just prolonging his moment even though we both knew he would have her again and again before the night was out. It was his way of putting me in my place, punishing me for whatever sins I had committed against him in this mess.

I couldn't stop the slow stroking of my cock as I watched my wife arch under the pressure of her release. It was a beautiful sight that made my cock weep for release even though my brother was still buried within her. She was beautiful on her knees, face down, ass up in the air with my brothers cock slowly slipping in and out of her as she cried for him. It was an erotic sight that fueled my private jerk off sessions just seeing her like this, so stunningly spent while riding high from her release.

I waited, impatiently, as Edward continued to grind against her until the tremors that left Rosalie shaking stilled, only then did he pull out of her with a hiss of displeasure. He looked at me, but it was a pitiful look that made my stomach twist with the sickness that threatened to swallow me whole each time he fucked her. I hated his pity even more than the fact that I needed him to give me what my Rosalie wanted.

I watched him roll off the bed with the agility that I had never been blessed with, naked and proud and what did he not have to be proud of? He was fucking my wife as if it was his damn job and what was worse than that was that it was his job. I had paid him to be with her. I had paid him my share of our parents' fortune to do this, to be with her and to give her the one thing I couldn't. It was the fact that Edward kept him here with his dick wet from my wife.

He was barely off the bed before he reached over and smacked her ass hard causing her to groan loudly while he chuckled in response. He knew she hated that, not that it stopped him; that it made her feel used and like a whore, yet he insisted upon it. It was a reminder that she was being used; she was nothing more than the willing whore in this mess that I had created all in the name of loving her.

"She's all yours for the time being," he taunted as he left the room, exiting to the shower, leaving me and Rose alone, not that she would look at me. She remained face down ass up in the air with the random tremor coursing through her as she half lay there. She was beautiful and sickening all at once covered in his scent while dripping his come.

"You hate me," she said in a whisper of a voice as she refused to look at me. Her words were accurate and yet so painful to hear since I never wanted her to know how much I hated her in these moments.

Wordlessly I slipped behind her. I could see her pussy swollen and used. It disgusted me and made me ache for release all at once.

"Just do it," she whispered in an almost embarrassed tone as she remained face down, refusing to look at me, yet knowing me well enough to know that I needed to get off. I needed her and the reminder that she was still mine even if she smelled of him.

Without another word aligned my cock to her opening before slowly sinking inside of her with a low groan, blocking out the smells of sex and how wet she was from him as well as every bad decision I had made that led to this moment in time.

Thank you for your time.

The Dame