The Devious Husband: Sierra and Xavier’s Story (The Windsors)

I’m so furious I can barely think straight as Sierra and I make our way home, my mind endlessly replaying the way she just looked at Graham. Neither of us says a word as my driver pulls up in front of our house, the tension palpable.

“Why are you so mad?” Sierra snaps, slamming the door closed behind her.

I whirl around to face my wife and pull my tie loose. “You can’t be serious,” I retort. “How the fuck am I supposed to feel if not fucking mad, Sierra? I just sat there as my wife nearly fucking ran after another man.”

“He’s a friend!” she shouts, throwing her purse on the console table in the foyer. “I wanted to follow him because that wasn’t how I wanted him to find out.”

“No,” I say mockingly. “Had it been up to you, he’d never have found out at all. Tell me, Sierra. Would you have kept it from him forever if you could?”

“Why the hell are you suddenly acting like my husband when we’ve barely spoken in two weeks? Just who do you think you are? You can’t just touch me the way you did and then treat me like I don’t even exist!”

I sigh and stare up at the ceiling for a moment. She’s right, of course, but she’s also evading my question. “That’s not an answer and you damn well know it,” I tell her, my voice losing all fight. “You know what? Fuck it, Sierra. Fuck this.”

I turn my back to her and walk away, heading straight for our dressing room. I figured she wouldn’t want to be around me right now, but much to my surprise, she follows me. “You want an answer?” she asks, her voice faltering when she notices I’ve unbuttoned half my shirt.

“Actually,” I tell her. “No. I don’t care, because it doesn’t make a fucking difference. It never does.”

“Yeah, you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t care,” she says, her tone filled with bitterness.

My shirt falls open, and I raise a brow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Her eyes flash, and she takes a step toward me. The vulnerability she shows me knocks me off my feet, and I take a steadying breath. Sierra hesitates, and then she shakes her head. “Forget it,” she tells me, her voice soft. “It doesn’t matter.”

She sighs and turns to walk away, but I grab her and pull her back to me. “What do you want from me?” I ask, pained. “Just tell me, and I’ll fucking do it.”

She rises to her tiptoes, her lips so close to mine I can almost taste her. “Nothing,” she whispers. “Everything.”

I groan and tighten my grip on her hair before I kiss her, losing myself in her. She whimpers softly and opens up for me, and I instantly deepen our kiss, my tongue tangling with hers. She tastes like chocolate and cinnamon, and it drives me completely wild.

My wife gasps when I push her up against the wall, but she doesn’t take her lips off mine for even a second as she wraps her legs around my hips. “Fuck,” I groan, kissing her like my life fucking depends on it, like this is the only time I’ll ever get to kiss her. Hell, it might just be. Every moment with her is precious, and I’ll never take even one single second of her wanting me for granted. It won’t last, after all.

“Xavier,” she moans, her hands pushing at my shirt as I move my lips to her neck, needing more. I shrug out of my shirt and tug at her top, pushing it up. She helps me get it over her head, and I take a second to look at my wife in that sexy black lace bra. “I need to see you,” I whisper, before reaching behind her and unhooking her bra.

Sierra blushes fiercely and threads her hand into my hair, pulling my lips back to hers before I can push her bra aside, and I oblige happily, kissing her as I carry her to our bed. My beautiful wife gasps when I lay her down and move on top of her, holding myself up on my forearm.

Our eyes lock as I reach for her bra. She looks so vulnerable as she lets me pull it away, and it’s a mystery why, because she’s the most beautiful woman alive. “Fucking gorgeous,” I murmur as I lower my mouth to her skin, loving the way her nipple hardens against my tongue. She squirms underneath me, her hand moving over my arms, like she can’t get enough of my body either. I’m in a daze as she squirms underneath me, my thoughts revolving solely around her. She does that to me — keeps me in the moment, makes me unable to remember anything else.

“Xave,” she says, sounding desperate. I smirk as I move my lips back to hers, loving the way she moans against my mouth when I slip a hand underneath her skirt, the back of my fingers brushing over her lace panties. “Wet,” I murmur gleefully, pushing the fabric aside. “Look at how wet you are for your husband.” I’ve fucking missed her, missed the way she feels in my arm, the way she tastes. I didn’t even realize that I’ve felt incomplete for the last two weeks, right until this moment.

I pull back to look at her, committing this image of her to memory. She looks like a fucking goddess lying here with her skirt around her waist, her dark nipples hard and pure desire dancing in her eyes. Sierra bites down on her lip when I push my middle finger into her, my thumb swiping over her clit. “You’re so fucking tight, baby,” I groan, my lips brushing over hers.

She balls her hand in my hair and kisses me, and fuck if it doesn’t drive me completely insane. She tangles her tongue with mine leisurely, her hips moving against my hand as I slip another finger into her, teasing her g-spot while my thumb presses against her clit. I need her desperate for me, her pussy dripping and silently begging for me.

“Xavier,” she pleads, repeating my name over and over again as I increase the pace, my touch becoming rougher.

“You want to come for me, don’t you?” I murmur, smirking as I keep her on the edge. God, she has no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this exact moment, how thoughts of her kept me sane at the worst of times.

She nods, soft little pants escaping her lips. “Please.”

I bury my free hand in her hair and push a third finger into her, noting how incredibly tight she is. “Tell me you’re mine,” I beg, needing to hear the words. I know I don’t deserve her, but fuck, I need her.

“I’m yours,” she moans. “I’m all yours, Xavier.”

Something swells in my chest, and I smile at my wife as I give her what she wants, making her come. Her muscles contract around my fingers, and the way her eyes flutter closed as she moans my name will forever be ingrained in my mind.

Her body relaxes, and I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly. I’ve missed her so fucking much. She doesn’t know how how badly the thought of her looking at me in fear or disgust has haunted me, how much of a relief it is that she still wants me.

I turn us onto our side when her breathing evens out, my gaze roaming over her face as she slowly caresses my back. “Don’t ever, for even a single second, think I don’t care about you, Sierra. You’re always on my mind. Always.”

“I lied,” she says, her voice breaking. She cups my face, vulnerability sparkling in her eyes. “When I told you that I wouldn’t pretend I’d stay away from Graham, I was just trying to provoke you. There has never been anything going on between Graham and me, and I never agreed to go out for dinner with him today. He truly is just a friend, and I’ve never wanted anyone but you…”

Relief unlike anything I’ve ever felt rushes through me, and I bury my hand in my wife’s hair as I pull her face to mine and kiss her.