Page 69 of Marry Lies
How her small, yellow sweater wasjustshort enough to expose the golden skin of her abdomen.
How her full, pink lips were always tilted up into a mischievous smile.
How she seemed to be able to read my moods, and how fucking happy she looked when I had the chef make her celeriac soup earlier tonight.
And…how fucking happy that mademe.
I want her to feel at home.
My chest nearly tore in half every time I thought about her.
And worst of all, I am dreading the day she realizes our sham marriage isn’t worth it anymore—the day another man can have her the way I’ve wanted to since the night of the fountain in Paris.
Just the idea of her being with anyone else makes me feel sick.
Once she finds out about the money, she’ll want to be as far away from me as possible.
And it will ruin me.
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I exhale slowly.
Fuck.
I am so fucked.
With a determined pep in my step, I walk over to Estelle’s door, raising my arm to knock once, but a noise stops me. I lean closer, and then—
“Oh, god.”
I stare at the wood grain. Is she…
“Oh, fuck,”she whimpers, clear as day.
Everything inside of me heats, and my cock pulses inside of my trousers. I take a step back, wondering what to do.
I knowwhat Ishoulddo.
Ishouldgo back to my room and lie down on my bed, pretending my wife isn’t pleasuring herself on the other side of this door.
Ishouldleave this entire suite and distract myself with a cold dip in the pool.
It’s what a gentleman would do.
“Please, Miles.”
My cock is fully hard now, and I palm it once as I walk to the joint bathroom.
Because as much as I want to be the gentleman, the voyeuristic side of me wants to watch her.
I never said I was a good person. In fact, I make terrible decisions a lot of the time. If given the choice between being a good boy and walking away, or possibly watching my wife bring herself to the brink of an orgasm sayingmyname? I’d purchase my one-way ticket to hell if I could watch her for just a second.
There was never a choice with Estelle.
She already had me wrapped about her little finger.
To my surprise, the door leading to her bedroom is open just a crack, and since the light is off in the bathroom, I can stay hidden in the shadows. Her bedside table lamp is on low, casting a soft, warm light over Estelle as she’s…
Fuck.
