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

I stare at my wife in the mirror as she puts on her dress, and I can’t believe she’s mine. Sierra gasps when I wrap my hands around her waist and lean in to kiss her neck. “Xave,” she murmurs admonishingly, even as she tilts her neck to give me better access.

“You look far too beautiful.” These last couple of weeks with have has been the closest to happiness I’ve ever been, and it terrifies me. Every time she moans my name, her eyes filled with nothing but me, I wonder if I’ve asked for too much, if I should’ve just walked away when I realized she was ready to start chasing her own happiness.

Every time I watch her read her romance novels all curled up on the sofa in her library, the sweetest giggles leaving her lips randomly, I wonder how long I’ll get to have her, how long it’ll take for me to say the wrong thing and push her away, or put her in harm’s way.

I always knew she wasn’t meant for me, that she’s too good for me, but I’ve never been able to contain my selfishness when it comes to her. I’ve always craved her attention in whatever way I could get it, and even now that she’s my wife, I can’t get enough.

Sierra giggles when I unzip her dress, and her eyes sparkle with desire as it pools on the floor. She turns to face me and buries a hand in my hair, our eyes locking. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You, if I’m lucky.”

She laughs, and fuck if it isn’t the best sound in the world, followed only by the way I’m about to make her moan my name. “We’ll be late,” my wife says, even as she unbuttons my shirt, her hand roaming over my skin hungrily.

“I don’t care,” I murmur as I turn her around and bend her over her dressing table, our eyes locking in the mirror. She gasps when I part her legs and slip my fingers between them, my cock instantly beginning to throb when I find her wet. “This…” I murmur, before bringing my fingers to my lips for a taste. “This is all I care about.”

She moans when I circle her clit, teasing her ruthlessly. “Xavier,” she warns. “Are you going to mess around, or are you going to fuck your wife?”

I smirk, a deep kind of pleasure washing over me at the way she’s referring to herself. I fucking love it when she calls herself my wife. I groan as I undo my trousers in a rush, loving the way she moans when I slide my cock against her pussy. “You want this, baby?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, rocking her hips in an attempt to get me closer.

I push the tip in and reach for her hair, tangling my hand into it. She looks fucking magnificent in the mirror. That lustful expression, the way her tits are pushed up against the wooden table, and that beautiful flushed face. “How the fuck are you mine?” I ask, slipping into her an inch.

“More,” she demands.

I smirk as I reach around her and begin to draw lazy circles around her clit. “Not until you come for me, Kitten.”

She pants, soft little moans escaping her sexy lips as I push her closer to an orgasm while fucking her in the most excruciating shallow way. “Xavier,” she begs.

“Yes, my love?”

“Please.”

I smile and give her what she wants, my fingers moving faster, rougher. There’s nothing more thrilling than watching Sierra come for me and knowing I earned each and every one of those delicious moans.

Her legs begin to tremble, and I bite down on my lip as I push into her fully just as her pussy begins to contract, her body losing strength. I pull her against me and hold her up with my forearm against her stomach. She rests her head against my shoulder as I take her slowly, her breathing uneven and her eyes on me through the mirror. I’ve never experienced anything this intimate, and it’s messing with my mind, makes me feel things that can’t be real.

She tilts her head and kisses me, and just like that, she’s got me losing myself in her. I take her with hard, slow thrusts, and she moans against my mouth. “What are you doing to me?” I murmur against her mouth, certain she’s bewitched me.

Sierra smiles and reaches behind her, her hand wrapping into my hair as she brings my lips back to hers, demanding that I kiss her. I oblige happily, and the way she tangles her tongue with mine pushes me over the edge. She swallows down my moans and tightens her grip on my hair when I come, and it’s the most unreal experience. I’ll never get enough of her, not in a million years.

“We really are going to be late,” she tells me when I pull out of her, and I smile sheepishly. I’d better not tell her that my mother actually really hates it when I’m late. Instead, I just help my wife get cleaned up and dressed, taking every opportunity to touch her.

“Don’t forget this,” I murmur, slipping her wedding ring onto her finger. I hate that she rarely wears it, that I’m someone she wants to hide. Even if it’s only for tonight, I want to feel like she’s truly mine.

Sierra surprises me when she places her hand on my thigh as I drive us to the restaurant, and I grab her hand, entwining our fingers as I steal a glance at her. I’ve never wanted and feared something in equal parts, but that’s exactly how I feel about her. I’m terrified of fucking things up with her, but I also can’t let her go.

“You’re late,” Hunter says when we walk in, before reaching for my wife. I pull her back before he can hug her and glare at him, but she just laughs and pushes me aside to hug my brother.

“Hunter!” she says excitedly, and I watch the two of then through narrowed eyes. Much to my surprise, Sierra moves on to Elijah, and then Zach, before finally hugging Valeria tightly, treating them all like they’re her own siblings. I thought she’d be reserved around them, wary of our reputation, but instead, she’s treating them with unexpected kindness.

My heart feels a little funny as I watch her with my family, noting the way she seems to get a little nervous as she approaches Mom. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Mom says, grabbing her hand.

Sierra smiles shyly and holds up the small bag she brought. “It isn’t much, but I baked you some cookies for your birthday.”

Mom’s eyes widen, and she takes the bag carefully. “You did? For me?”

“I can see why you love her so much,” Dad says. I tense, unable to refute his words yet not quite ready to admit it either. “You look at her the way I look at your mother, Xavier. It’s okay to love her, you know? It’s okay to be happy.”

I keep trying to remind myself of that, but it’s near impossible to silence that little voice in my head that tells me that everything we have will disappear when she finally asks me the questions I know she has, and she’ll never look at me the same again.