BW | Chapter 1: After the Wine

Camila.

She possessed the kind of smile that could stop time. Her gaze was singular, a look that pierced the heart and stirred a primal need to protect and cherish her. While many fell under her spell, only one ever truly held her attention. She was the woman you would promise the world to.

She was also the woman my brother married.

I noticed her first, long before my brother ever fell for her. My feelings ran deep, but I was a coward; I never found the courage to pursue her. Eventually, my older brother stepped in, originally intending to bridge the gap for me. I could only watch from the sidelines, helpless, as they fell in love with each other.

I served as John’s best man, forcing a smile through grit teeth. I wore that same practiced expression when their son, Mico, was born. They were the portrait of a perfect family.

Everything I ever dreamed of seemed to fall effortlessly into my brother’s lap. I respected him—he was my role model—but sometimes, no matter how much I tried to deny it, I was consumed by jealousy. He was everyone’s favorite. He had our parents’ undivided devotion, and he had the woman I loved more than life itself.

“Jake?”

Camila’s voice snapped me out of my trance.

“You’re so quiet.”

“Ah, just a lot on my mind,” I replied, forcing a smile.

“I suppose so. You’re building another bar, so you’re always busy,” she said with a faint smile.

“I only do it to forget how miserable I am,” I whispered to myself. I watched her every move. Over the years, her beauty had only deepened. I burned with the desire to know the softness of her hands, the feel of her skin against my lips.

I quickly looked away when John entered the living room, preoccupied with a phone call.

“I understand. I’ll leave this week so we can start the project,” John said, pacing the floor.

Camila rose from the couch and approached him as he hung up.

“You just got home, and you’re leaving again? You hardly see Mico anymore,” she said, her voice laced with resentment.

I sighed inwardly. If she had married me, I would never have left her side.

“I’m sorry, hon. But this is a massive project. I can’t pass it up,” John explained. He was a brilliant architect, always in high demand.

“But it’s Mico’s birthday next week. Can’t you leave after the party?” Camila pleaded.

“I’m really sorry, Camila, but the schedule is set,” John replied firmly.

“You always let your son down. You always let me down, John,” she said, her voice low but sharp.

“Jake is here to help you. I’m sure Mico won’t be lonely,” John answered coldly before turning away.

I watched them in silence.

Yeah, I wish I could take your place as Camila’s husband, I thought, a silent, desperate prayer.

My brother left the following day.

When Mico’s birthday arrived, I took charge of the party. I played the doting uncle to the extreme, simply because it gave me an excuse to be near Camila. I had been in many relationships, but none lasted. I couldn’t move past a love that my brother’s wife could never return.

As the celebration wound down, the house grew quiet.

“Jake, leave that. Let the staff handle the cleanup. Come join me—let’s try the wine Mama sent,” Camila called, holding a bottle.

“Where’s Mico?” I asked, following her into the living room.

“Exhausted. He’s fast asleep,” she said, gesturing for me to sit on the long sofa. “Thank you, Jake. Not just for today, but for always being there for Mico and me.”

“It’s nothing. We’re family,” I said softly, taking the glass she offered.

“The woman you marry will be very lucky, Jake,” she said. She smiled, but I saw the sadness she was trying to mask.

“Do you regret it?” I asked. The question slipped out before I could stop it.

A small, bittersweet smile touched her lips. She traced the rim of her glass, struggling with her emotions.

“It’s too late for regrets,” she whispered. “We have a son, Jake… and I could never regret him. Mico is the best thing in my life.”

But despite her words, the sorrow in her eyes was unmistakable. It felt like a weight pressing against my own heart.

Driven by an impulse I couldn’t control, I reached out and took her free hand. I pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her palm, pouring years of hidden longing into the gesture.

“J-Jake?” Her voice was a mix of shock and fear. She tried to pull away, but I held on, drawing her hand to my chest, right over a heart caught between right and wrong.

“Can you feel it?” I asked, my voice thick with pain. I searched her eyes, desperate to read her. In her wavering gaze, I found the strength to finally speak. “I loved you before he ever met you… before you were ever married.”

“Jake…” she breathed, stunned. I expected a slap, a scream, a wave of fury. Instead, she just stared at me, paralyzed.

“I love the way you look at me,” she whispered, her voice trembling with confusion. “You make me feel like the most special woman in the world. No one has ever done that… only you. It’s too late to realize that now, Jake. I’m married to your brother.” She paused, closing her eyes tight. “If I have one regret in my life… it’s you.”

The words felt like a blade to the chest.

“Don’t—” she started to protest, but it was too late. I pressed my lips against hers.

She didn’t return the kiss, but she didn’t pull away either. Encouraged, I claimed her mouth completely, finally tasting the dream I had chased for years. When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless.

“This is wrong, Jake…” she said, her voice shaking with fear.

“I want you. More than I want—I love you. I’m going crazy without you.” I gripped her hand as if she might vanish if I let go. “Push me away now, Camila… before I commit an even greater sin.”

But it was too late for both of us. I knew we would eventually reach this breaking point. I was prepared for anything—a strike across the face, a cold dismissal.

I didn’t expect what she did next.

She took my hand and led me toward the guest room. Once inside, she locked the door. When she turned to face me, her face was flushed and her lips were trembling.

“Jake…” she sobbed my name. Before she could say another word, I lunged for her, meeting her with a kiss that was desperate, hungry, and fueled by a lifetime of ache.

I nipped at her lower lip, tasting the faint trace of wine. Camila responded with soft moans that only pushed my desire higher. She gripped my arms as my lips traveled down to the curve of her neck.

“J-Jake…” she pleaded as I pressed my teeth against her skin.

“Don’t leave marks…” she whispered, a final, failing defense against the temptation.

“I’m sorry,” I growled against her skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I can’t help it, Camila. I want to mark you. I want you to be mine.”

“I may not be yours… but at this moment, Jake, I am.” Her voice was a fragile thread of honesty.

I didn’t waste another second. I reclaimed her lips, my tongue seeking hers. The moment we touched, a jolt of electricity surged through me. Camila fought back, her kiss hot and urgent, as if she were releasing every emotion she had ever suppressed. Our tongues danced in a frantic rhythm of longing. My hands wandered over her face, her hair, her waist.

I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs. Every point of contact felt like a wildfire spreading between us. I had never known a kiss like this—one heavy with grief, fear, and absolute raw passion.

Overcome, I lifted her by the hips and laid her on the bed. I stepped back for a moment, looking at her, and the sight nearly broke me. Her red dress, soft and clinging, accentuated every curve. As the fabric hiked up her thighs, I swallowed hard at the sight of her smooth skin.

“Jake…” she called out, a mix of fear and anticipation. She crossed her legs, a reflexive attempt to shield herself from my hungry gaze. I looked up at her face; her cheeks were crimson, and she was biting her lip, trying to fight the desire written in her eyes.

I smiled bitterly. She was falling, just like me.

I knelt at the foot of the bed and pressed my lips to her thigh. Camila jolted, but she didn’t retreat. She closed her eyes, finally surrendering.

“I want to taste you,” I whispered.

She remained silent, allowing me to claim her, letting me into the places she had tried so hard to keep guarded.

“Hmm… nn– ngh…” She ran her fingers through my hair as I explored her. I didn’t stop, spurred on by her ragged breathing.

“J-Jake… nn…” she gasped, trembling as she tried to stifle a cry. I felt her resolve breaking as she began to slick with want. I lost myself in her, tasting her as if I were a starving man.

Camila arched her back, her body curving toward the sensation of my tongue.

“Jake… S-stop…” the plea was weak and stuttered, but she didn’t push me away. Instead, her grip on my head tightened. I parted her legs further and, sensing she was on the brink, I used my fingers to drive her further.

“Ahh… mm…” She couldn’t hold back the moan. She bit her lip so hard I thought it might bleed, fighting the total descent into my arms.

When I couldn’t bear the distance any longer, I moved over her until we were face to face. I silenced her with a kiss of pure possession. Camila bit my shoulder, a sharp, hard nip as she tried to keep from screaming while I worked my fingers inside her.

“I-I want you…” she rasped, her eyes hazy and wet with desire.

“Are you sure?” I breathed.

“I want you,” she repeated, her voice shaking but her eyes burning with the same fire as mine.

That was all I needed.

I moved quickly, discarding my clothes until I stood before her, my own need impossible to hide. I returned to the bed, settling between her thighs. She flinched slightly, nervous, but didn’t stop me. She raised her hands as if to push me back, but as I pressed into her, her strength evaporated.

“Ah-ahh…” She gasped as I began to slide inside her. She bit her lip again, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle her cries.

With every inch, I felt like I was losing my mind. I was finally taking the woman I had loved for so long—my brother’s wife. It was wrong. The world would call it a sin. But in that room, it felt like the only right thing I had ever done.

“Jake…” she whimpered. She called my name, not his.

The sound fueled me. I buried myself deep within her, feeling the heat of her body enveloping me. She clung to my shoulders, her grip tightening with every thrust, as if she were afraid to let go.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, though my actions were anything but apologetic. I began to move with a primal rhythm, seeking out every corner of her.

“Ah! Ahh… Aaaah!” Her voice broke. The bed shook with the force of our collision. I lifted one of her legs over my shoulder, driving deeper, claiming her more fiercely. I reached for her breast, kneading her through the thin fabric of her dress.

“Hah… Aaaah!” she cried out at the dual sensation.

I pulled her up to sit on my lap, facing me. In this new position, I could reach even deeper.

“Aaahh… Ja-Jake…” she moaned, her mouth falling open.

I didn’t hesitate to tear the red dress away, finally revealing her completely. Her breasts shifted with every movement, a maddening sight. She arched her back, offering herself to me, and I took her into my mouth. I moved from one to the other, tasting her, ignoring the loud moans echoing through the room. I gripped her hips, helping her find the rhythm as she moved against me.

I lowered her back onto the bed, pinning her legs back and redoubling my efforts.

“Ahh… Jake… ohhh…” she cried as I moved faster, harder. Our bodies slapped together, the sound filling the silence of the night. I couldn’t stop. I wanted every moan, every gasp, every movement of her body that screamed her desire for me.

After a long time, we lay tangled together, breathless, until sleep finally claimed us. The room was silent, save for the sound of our synchronized breathing.

Jake woke up in the middle of the night. He watched Camila as she slept soundly beside him. He didn’t want to admit that this might be the first and last time. He knew that when his brother returned, this illicit connection would have to end.

He traced the line of her cheek, trying to memorize every detail—the curve of her lips, the length of her lashes. He wanted this memory to be burned into his mind forever.

Gently, he pulled back the sheet. The sight of her naked form reignited his hunger. He couldn’t help himself. He hovered over her, kissing her neck while pressing himself against her.

Camila’s eyes fluttered open. “Jake?” she moaned softly, gasping at the sudden contact.

“I know this will be our first and last,” he whispered into her ear, his voice a mix of agony and lust. “So I want to make every second count. I want to spend every moment making love to you.”

He kissed her swollen lips, a deep, lingering kiss that felt like a goodbye. He began to move again, slow and deliberate. Every thrust was heavy with the weight of everything he felt for her.

“Jake… ahhh…” she whispered, her eyes misty as she met his movements.

“I love you, Camila…” he confessed, unable to hold it back any longer.

“Jake… don’t stop… please…” she trembled.

Her plea drove him to be even more daring. He moved within her with a desperate intensity, feeling her nails dig into his back.

“Camila, I want you to remember this… that only I have been inside you like this…” He bit his lip and increased the pace, chasing the end as if it were the last thing they would ever share.

“Jake… Jake…” she moaned repeatedly, fighting the urge to scream.

“I’m close, Camila… Ahhh…” he groaned against her neck, pressing himself into her one last time.

“Me too, Jake… Ahhh… please… not inside…” she begged, her voice thick with emotion.

With one final, powerful motion, they reached the peak together, their cries breaking the stillness of the night. Afterward, Camila held him tightly, as if she would never let go.

“Jake… I love you too…” she whispered against his chest before her eyes finally closed, exhausted by the heat of the night.