Page 41 of The Devious Husband

“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.

Thirty-Seven

Sierra

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.

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