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

I lean back in my seat in my own damn conference room as my wife laughs at something Graham said, and all the while, I quietly plot his demise. It’d only take me a few days to sabotage his business and tank his share price, at which point I could swoop in and facilitate a hostile takeover. I can’t remove him as a shareholder altogether, but if I can get my hands on enough shares, I can force him off this project and make sure he stays far away from my wife.

“You can’t still remember that,” Sierra says, her eyes filled with glee. “I was six!”

Maybe blackmail would be faster. Surely there’s something I can find on him? No one has a clean slate — not even the kindest souls. A hostile takeover could take months, but his reputation? That could be ruined in a matter of days. So could his bones.

“Of course I remember,” he replies. “My mom has pictures of that day framed. Me and you in that tiny kiddie pool, down right brawling over that stupid bath duck.”

Our meeting ended twenty minutes ago, and they’re both still sitting here, reminiscing about memories I don’t share with Sierra, and it fucking destroys me. I’ve known her for nearly two decades, but he’s known her longer.

I breathe a sigh of relief when Graham finally rises to his feet and gathers his documents. Things seemed so perfect last night, but Sierra has barely looked at me today, and it fucking hurts. It’s like I don’t even fucking exist when he’s in the room.

“There’s a new bistro around the corner,” Graham says softly, his words clearly meant only for her. “Shall we go check it out if you haven’t had lunch yet?”

“Sierra,” I snap, my voice betraying my mounting anger. “Do you have a moment?”

Her eyes meet mine, and I hold her gaze, drinking her in. Graham’s shoulder brushes against hers, and he leans in, his mouth far too fucking close to her ear. “Want me to wait for you?”

She turns to face him and smiles up at him in a way that straight up cuts through my heart, slicing it into pieces. “No, it’s okay,” she says, her tone soft and sweet. “We’ll catch up later.”

She stares after him as he walks out, and I walk up to her, placing my index finger under her chin, lifting her face to mine. “What the fuck was that, Mrs. Kingston?”

Surprise crosses her face, and for a few moments, she looks entirely disarmed. “What was what?” she asks, her tone a little uncertain.

I take a step forward, and she stumbles back, until she’s perched at the edge of my conference table. Sierra’s eyes flash when I cage her in, placing my hands on either side of her. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” I warn her. “You’re fucking insane if you think I’m going to let you get away with flirting with another man right in front of me.”

She grabs my tie and yanks on it, catching me by surprise when she pulls me closer. It’s clear she’s not the least intimidated, and that look in her eyes takes the edge off my anger. “You’re insane if you think that was flirting.” She sounds furious, indignant.

I part her legs to stand between them, making her skirt ride up, and Sierra’s cheeks flush beautifully when I grab her hips and pull her against me. “Then what was it? Explain it to me, because I vividly recall you promising me loyalty and fidelity.”

My wife surprises me further when she wraps her legs around me and balls my tie in her fist. “It’s called reminiscing, Xavier. It’s something you do with friends — not that you’d know.”

“You’re right,” I tell her, placing my hand around the back of her neck. “I clearly don’t know.” My gaze drops to her lips, and her breath hitches. When my eyes meet hers again, they’re filled with barely disguised longing. “What I do know is that you’re my wife, Sierra Kingston. You’re mine, and it looks like you need another reminder of that little fact.”

Her breathing quickens when she feels me harden against her, and she tilts her head almost imperceptibly. “The last thing I need is a reminder,” she says, her voice different now, huskier, despite her best attempts to inject venom into it. “I’ve been trying my best to forget.”

Sierra inhales sharply when I rotate my hips, driving my cock into her harder. The desire that flashes through her eyes is unmistakable, but she’ll deny it with her last breath, I just know it. I tilt my head, my lips a mere inch from hers. “You fucking infuriate me, you know that?”

“The feeling is mutual,” she murmurs against my mouth, before tightening her grip on my tie and pulling me closer, until my lips are on hers. I moan when she kisses me, her hand wrapping into my hair while mine runs over her body, only to settle on her thighs. My tongue brushes over her lips, and she opens up for me, deepening our kiss as one of her hands roams over my chest.

My wife gasps when I slip my fingers between her legs and she pulls away just a touch to look at me just as brush against her panties. “Wet,” I murmur, loving the way she’s looking at me. “Just like last night. At least your body remembers who it belongs to, hmm?”

“I don’t belong to you,” she retorts, even as she tilts her hips forward just a touch, pushing against my hand harder. I smirk as I push the silky fabric aside, the feel of my bare finger against her soaking wet, smooth pussy nearly undoing me. Fuck. It feels like I’ve waited an eternity to have the mere chance to experience this with her.

I bite down on my lip just as she moans, her eyes darkening. “What was that, baby?” I ask, taunting. “I can’t hear your lies over the sound of your desire.”

She grabs the lapels of my suit, her breathing ragged. “God, I hate you,” she claims, and I look into her eyes as I slip a finger into her, curling it inside her as I press my thumb against her swollen clit. She moans so fucking beautifully that my cock begins to throb, my mind hazy with pure lust. She’s the only woman who can do this to me, the only one I’ve ever lost my cool over.

“Yeah?” I murmur, torturing her by circling her clit and never quite touching it. “You might hate me, but your pussy fucking loves me. You want to come for me, don’t you?”

She balls her hand in my hair and pulls my mouth back to hers, until there’s only an inch between us. “Shut up,” she whispers.

I grin as I slip another finger into her, my thumb finally caressing her where she needs it most. “Make me,” I growl.

Sierra kisses me, her hips moving with my fingers as I push her toward the brink of an orgasm. I swallow down all her moans as I increase the pace, my touch becoming rougher. My beautiful wife comes for me, and the fucking sounds she makes… they’ll feature in my fantasies for the rest of my life.

“He can’t give you that kind of pleasure,” I tell her once her inner muscles stop contracting. “For as long as we’re married, I’m the only man that’s touching you.” She blushes fiercely when I pull out my fingers and bring them to my lips, savoring her taste. “You’re mine, Sierra Kingston. Whether you like it or not.”

She pushes against my chest and slips off the conference table, only for her knees to buckle. I grin as I wrap my hand around her waist and pull her against me, holding her in my embrace. Sierra places her hand against my chest, her eyes on mine. For once, there’s no venom in her gorgeous emeralds — this time, there’s only shyness and something I can only describe as vulnerability.

“I was about to say no to his request to have lunch together,” she murmurs.

My heart skips a beat as I gently brush her hair out of her face. Does she realize how much of a relief it is to hear that? I doubt she has any idea just how much every little action she takes affects me, how much power she holds over me. “Don’t wait up,” I tell her, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I have meetings until late.”

She pulls away, seemingly snapping out of the sweet daze she’d been in. “As if I would,” she tells me as she straightens her skirt, the blush on her face diminishing the effect she was going for.

I chuckle, and she glares at me as she storms out of my conference room, leaving me staring after her. What has she done to me? I think I’ve finally well and truly lost my mind.