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

Xavier balls his hand into my hair, our eyes locked as his free hand roams over my body. “Now tell me, Kitten… how should I punish you for your lies?”

I gasp when his hand disappears between my legs again, and I whimper involuntarily. “Xavier,” I plead, uncertain what I’m asking for. I’m so sensitive, but I don’t want him to stop touching me. My thoughts are hazy, clouded by desire and that look in his eyes. I’ve missed him so much. Every time I fell asleep alone, I’d find him looking at me this way in my dreams — like I’m all he could ever want.

“Was it fun, making me jealous?”

My head falls back as he draws circles around my clit, not quite touching it, but still bringing me closer to another orgasm. It’s excruciating, intoxicating. “Yes,” I tell him. “I loved it.”

He laughs and slips a finger into me, entirely unaware how captivating his laughter is, what it does to my heart. “Bad kitten,” he murmurs, pressing against my g-spot hard. I moan and pull on his hair, trying to make my restlessness known, but it just makes him chuckle in that sexy, irresistible way.

“Bad husband,” I retort. “It’s not right to tease your wife like that.”

His hand stops moving, something that looks a whole lot like vulnerability crossing his face. “What did you call me?”

He looks at me pleadingly, and I just know that in this moment, it’s just me and him. No pretenses, no games. I cup his face, my thumb brushing over his bottom lip. “My husband,” I repeat, my voice trembling. “Isn’t that what you are?”

He draws a shaky breath and drops his forehead to mine, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, before he tilts his head and kisses me. This kiss is different to the ones before it — it’s slow, intentional, almost like there’s a hidden message his body is trying to convey.

When he kneels between my legs and reaches for my skirt, I don’t resist. His breath hitches when I lift my hips for him, and within seconds, I’m lying in his bed naked. I never thought I’d find myself here — married to Xavier Kingston and desperate for him, but nothing has ever felt quite this right.

I reach for his pants, and he groans when I undo it, my hands trembling with anticipation. He rises to his knees when I push his pants down, his dark eyes filled with desire and disbelief. “What about this?” he asks, placing my hand on the waistband of his boxer shorts. I hesitate, and he smiles at me, not a single hint of judgment in his eyes. “Take it off for me, baby.”

I do as I’m told and undress my husband. “So obedient,” he says as he helps me push both his trousers and boxers off entirely. I bite down on my lip when he grabs my hand and wraps it around his cock, his hand covering mine. “You’re such a good girl,” he tells me, and my cheeks flush instantly. “Why can’t you always be this good?”

He moves my hand back and forth, and I watch him, desire pooling between my legs. Xavier is the one moving my hand, but it’s clear he’s at my mercy. He looks at me like I’m a goddess, and he’s my devout worshiper. “If I were, your life would be far too boring.”

He releases my hand, but I keep up my movements, earning myself a delighted expression as he starts to caress my nipples, his movements making my spine arch. “But perhaps I’d have a shred of sanity left.”

“I like you just the way you are,” I say without thinking.

Xavier’s eyes widen, and he looks at me like he wants to believe me but can’t. He leans over me, covering my body with his. “Is that so?” he whispers, his lips hovering over mine.

I move my hands to his hair and tilt my face in a silent plea for a kiss, one he instantly fulfills. I moan when I feel his cock pressed against me, and I involuntarily begin to shift my hips, needing him closer. Xavier groans against my mouth, his hand reaching between us to align himself.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, his forehead dropping to mine. “If you want me to stop, I need you to tell me clearly.”

I tilt my face a little, and he pulls back a fraction to look at me. “Don’t stop,” I tell my husband. “I want you, Xavier.”

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words.” My head falls back when he begins to slide against me, the tip pushing in with every move. It’s a maddening rhythm, and the way he rubs against my clit with each shallow thrust distracts me from the fact that the way he’s stretching me feels a little uncomfortable, even though he’s barely even inside me.

Xavier kisses me, his tongue tangling with mine, his movements filled with barely restrained desire. “How does this feel?” he asks, pushing into me a bit further.

I whimper, reluctant to admit that I can’t take it. I don’t want him to know I’m inexperienced, and that I’m a little scared. “Fine,” I tell him.

Xavier pulls back to look at me, his gaze searching. He presses a sweet lingering kiss to my forehead before pushing off me, and I tense, but he smiles reassuringly as he kneels between my legs and grabs my hips. “My sweet little liar,” he whispers as he lifts my hips and pushes the tip of his cock into me, leaving it in place as his hand moves between my legs, his touch leisurely as he begins to stroke my clit, our eyes locked. “I won’t hurt you, Sierra. Not if I can help it.”

My breath hitches when he pushes in another fraction, his thumb caressing my clit in a way that should be criminal. His movements are slow but intentional, his eyes taking in every single shift in my expression as he slowly builds me up again, his hips rocking back and forth slightly — just enough to slowly inch his way further into me.

“I’m… I’m so close,” I whimper.

He grins, his touch becoming rougher. “Then come for me, my beautiful wife. Let me hear you.”

My spine arches as an orgasm even more intense than the previous one rocks through me, his name on my lips.

“Good girl,” he whispers, looking pleased — proud. “You can be such a good girl when you want to be.”

He pulls almost all the way out of me before thrusting halfway in, and I moan as my head falls back, my muscles tensing around him. It’s too much, too deep. “Xave,” I plead. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he promises, his thumb back on my clit. “You can take all of me, baby. You were made for me, Sierra.”

I reach for him, my hand wrapping around the back of his neck as I pull him closer, needing his lips on mine. He gives me what I want, kissing me slowly as he continues to thrust into me shallowly, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting into me, sliding just a little deeper into me each time.

“You’re doing so good,” he promises, his words a soft whisper between kisses. “Almost there, baby.”

His forehead drops to mine as he pulls back and pushes all the way into me. “Fuck. Sierra,” he moans, sounding delirious. The way he says my name makes the discomfort bearable, and I hold him tightly, my hands roaming over his back.

He brushes his nose against mine, once, twice. “You okay?” he asks, his tone filled with tenderness.

“Yeah,” I whisper. I thought he’d start to move immediately, and he has no idea how grateful I am that he’s giving me a few moments to adjust to the sensation of him inside me. I’ve never felt so stretched out, and it doesn’t hurt per se, but it also doesn’t feel as good as it’s always described in my romance novels.

Xavier holds himself up on his forearm, his eyes on mine as he reaches between us and presses his fingers against my clit. “Can you give me one more, baby? Just focus on my fingers.”

“I can’t,” I murmur, feeling so sensitive that I can barely take it.

“You can,” he says as he traps my clit between two fingers, stroking back and forth gently. The indirect touch drives me wild, and he grins when I begin to rock my hips, beginning to love the way he feels inside me. Each of my little movements just adds to my mounting desire, and the way Xavier watches me doesn’t help. He looks at me like I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, like nothing exists but me and him.

“That’s it,” he whispers when I begin to moan incoherently, his gaze heated. “That’s my girl.”

“Xavier,” I moan, overwhelmed by the way he’s made me feel. I can’t think straight, my thoughts clouded by desire, by him.

“Come for me, baby,” he demands. “Come for your husband, Sierra.”

He pushes me over the edge, and the moment I come, he pulls back almost all the way, before thrusting fully back into me. It doesn’t hurt this time, and he grins when I moan, my legs hooking around his hips.

“You like that, huh?”

I thread my hand through his hair, a mere inch between our faces as he begins to take me with deep and slow thrusts. “Your turn,” I tell him, my voice thick with lust. “I want to see you come for me.”

He grunts, his eyes falling closed briefly. “You’ll be the death of me, Sierra Kingston.”