Promise: The Deception Trilogy, Book 3

by Fallon Hart

  His hands slid up my waist and gripped me there. “You really don’t mind?”

  “No,” I promised him. “I’m good out here with my book.”

  He sat up and wrapped his arms around me, staring at me such adoration it was a wonder I didn’t melt into goo all over him. “How did I get so lucky as to meet you?”

  “My sister conned us both.”

  "Right," his lips quirked. "I suppose we should really forgive Mel considering the results."

  “We should.” I pressed a quick kiss to his lips and got off his lap. “But we’re not telling her that.”

  Laughing my husband pulled me back to him and kissed my belly before he stood up and pressed a quick kiss to the tops of each of my breasts. Chuckling I pushed him toward the villa. “Go work.”

  While Griff wandered into the villa to do just that I got comfy on my lounger and began reading a romance on my e-reader. As I read through the story, I realized it wasn't even half as exciting as my romance with Griff and abandoned the book for something more angsty. I struggled to get into anything. Flipping from one book to the next. I didn't know how much time went by when one of the two ‘butlers' on in our twenty four hour staff was suddenly standing over me.

  “Oh.” I sat up, a little startled by his presence.

  He was a young Frenchman called Louis whom I gathered was only in his early twenties. He shared the job with Elena, a young woman from California. They both wore a uniform that was a mix of white T-shirts, white linen pants or shorts with boat shoes. The pants and T-shirt were made for Louis and his wiry, muscular physique. "Madame Mandeville, Monsieur Mandeville asked me to bring out some refreshments for you."

  I smiled as Louis placed the tray with soda water and fresh fruit down on the table beside me. My husband. Always looking after me. “Thank you, Louis.”

  “You’re welcome, Madame Mandeville.”

  Curious about the staff here, I asked before he could leave, “Is this your full-time job?”

  If he was surprised by the question, he didn't show it. "For now."

  “What’s the dream?” I asked, reaching for the soda water.

  “Dream, Madame?”

  “You know. What do you want out of your life?”

  He gave me a very French full-bodied shrug. “I am only twenty-one. I’m still trying to … uh… how you say… work that one out.”

  I grinned. “I never had that problem. I always loved books and wanted to work in a library.”

  His eyes darted down my body quickly before he looked away, frowning like he’d done something he wasn’t supposed to. “You… I am surprised. Librarian.”

  Guessing he meant he was surprised I was a librarian I sighed. I got that a lot. “We come in all shapes and sizes. What do you love to do?” I gestured for him to take a seat on the lounger next to me.

  He did. "I love traveling. That's why I find myself here."

  “But you won’t stay long?”

  “My mama she say I have uh… esprit d’aventure… uh… how you say… wandering lust?”

  “Wanderlust.” I nodded. “Then if that’s what you love, that’s what you love.”

  “You like to travel?”

  "I haven't traveled much. This is my first real vacation."

  His eyes rounded. “Very nice first vacation.”

  I grinned. "Well, I have a very nice husband."

  Louis’s cheeks flushed a little as he stood. “He has a very nice wife.”

  “Thank you, Louis.”

  “Call for me if you need anything else. I am available to you until five o’ clock and then Elena will be here to serve you.”

  I nodded and watched as he walked away. Griff had appeared and was walking toward us. He and Louis shared a nod, and I reached for some pineapple slices as my husband neared.

  Even wearing sunglasses, I knew he was frowning.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Was the butler flirting with you?”

  I laughed. "Of course not. I was just asking Louis if this was his dream job. And he's only twenty-one."

  “What does that matter?” he grumbled, sitting down on the lounger where Louis had just sat. “He’s only a few years younger than you and have you seen you?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve told you before, not every man in the world is attracted to me.”

  “Then they’re fools. You’ve got a body made for sex.”

  I turned and lifted my glasses so I could throw him a mock frown. “Are you telling me you only love me for my body?”

  “My cock loves your body. My heart and mind love your heart and mind.”

  He said it so seriously, tears burned in my eyes. “Don’t make me cry.”

  Griff grinned. “Good tears though right?”

  “Yes.” I swung my legs off the lounger. “Did you get plenty of work done?”

  His expression turned tender. “I did. Thank you. I was a little agitated not knowing what was going on with the club, with my ventures.”

  “I know that. You’re allowed to be.”

  “But this is your first real vacation. I don’t want to spoil it for you.”

  "Griff," I stood up and walked over to brush my hand through his hair, while his fingers tickled my bare thighs, "You could never spoil this. I'm just happy we're here." He tilted his head back, and I pushed up his sunglasses again. I hated not seeing his eyes. "This is still really new for us. Maybe one day you'll get to the point where you can be away from work and relax, but that's a big ask right now when you've never done that before. Let's not put pressure on each other for things that don't matter. Let's enjoy each other and who we are."

  “It’s not that I don’t want to spend my time with you,” he assured me. “I’m just not very good at lying still.”

  "I know." I kissed him softly, and then he rested his forehead against my stomach. My fingers played through his hair as we stayed like that in silence for a while. Eventually, I said, "I should go in and change for lunch."

  He lifted his head and looked up at me. "Do you want kids, Scarlett?" he asked out of the blue.

  “What?” I gaped.

  “Do you want children with me?”

  The truth was I was terrified to answer. I did want kids. I always had wanted to start a family of my own at some point. But unlike conventional married couples, Griff and I had never spoken about it because our marriage wasn’t supposed to turn out to be real. But what if Griff didn’t want kids?

  “Do you?” I held my breath.

  His brows drew together. "Honestly, I never thought about it until you. It wasn't ever part of my plan. But I want to give you everything, and if you want children, I'll give you that too."

  My heart pounded hard against my chest. “You have to want kids too. You can’t just do it for me.”

  His grip on me tightened as a fierceness flashed across his expression. "If they were ours I'd want them. I'm not saying I'm not fucking terrified of the idea, but sometimes fear isn't a bad thing, Scarlett. I was terrified of loving you and look how that turned out in the end. And I promise now that if we start a family, I will try to be the kind of husband and father I always wanted my father to be."

  I couldn’t believe what he was saying. “You’d have children with me?” I clarified.

  “When we’re ready, yes,” his expression darkened, “I’d enjoy the fuck out of trying to get you pregnant.”

  My breathing stuttered as I caressed his neck and shoulders, just thinking about him getting me pregnant. How turned on it made me was seriously surprising. "God, I'm so wet."

  Griff’s nostrils flared. “How wet?” he growled.

  “Ex-extremely.”

  Suddenly he pulled down my bikini bottoms. My fingernails bit into his shoulders. “Griff, stop,” I hissed, looking up and around to make sure Louis was nowhere in sight.

  My husband didn't stop. Instead, he got on his knees in front of me, lifted one of my legs over his shoulder so I had to clutch to him for balance and then he pr
essed his face into my pussy.

  At the touch of his tongue, I nearly lost my balance as pleasure zinged down my spine.

  “Christ, you’re soaked,” his voice rumbled against me.

  “Griff, we shouldn’t here. Someone could see.”

  “Let them.” And then he fucked me with his tongue.

  I undulated against his mouth as he sucked on my clit, my hands grasping his head probably too hard. He squeezed my butt, growling against my pussy as he tortured and sucked me.

  Then his fingers joined in, pushing into my cunt.

  I found myself lost in the moment.

  I didn't care we were out by the pool where someone might see us. I writhed against my husband, glorying in the building orgasm as he fucked me with his fingers and tongue. Finally, the tension coiled tighter and tighter until I was pumping my hips and crying out in gasps that grew louder and louder.

  The tension finally broke, and my hips shuddered against him as I came.

  I'd barely come down from the orgasm when I stumbled back as Griff released me. His eyes were black with need as he pushed down his shorts, his erection standing proud and free. Before I could question his public nakedness, Griff grabbed my hand and led me into the cold pool. My feet barely touched the bottom of it when he maneuvered against the side. He untied my bikini top and wrapped my legs around his waist.

  Griff pushed inside me.

  And he made love to me in that pool until we were both crying out loud with ecstasy.

  Afterward, I realized it wouldn't have mattered if Louis saw me. He'd have heard our mutual cries and moans and groans and grunts of euphoria for miles.

  I didn’t care.

  We loved each other.

  We were on vacation.

  And my husband wanted to have kids with me someday.

  Life was better than I could have ever imagined. The 'me' from weeks ago would never have believed this was the kind of bliss waiting in my future.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Griffin

  “Merry Christmas, my love,” I murmured in my wife’s ear early the next morning.

  She stirred in her sleep and brushed her hand at her ear as if I were a pest.

  I chuckled. “Scarlett, wake up.”

  “Urggh.” She groaned and turned into me without opening her eyes. “No,” she said hoarsely. “I’m so tired.”

  “But it’s Christmas.”

  “I don’t care.” She snuggled her face into my chest, hiding.

  So fucking adorable.

  “You will care when you see what Santa brought you for Christmas.”

  She groaned. “Don’t say your cock. It already broke my vagina.”

  I shook with laughter and saw her smile peeking out. “Have I misused you terribly, my love?”

  Suddenly she flopped onto her back, her tits bouncing deliciously with the movement. Her eyes were open, and she was staring balefully at me. "Don't even think about it."

  I massaged one of her breasts, gently. “I thought you loved sex with me.”

  "I do. But I've also never had so much sex in my life. I'm sore."

  Genuinely concerned I coasted my hand down to her pussy and pressed my hand soothingly over her clit. “I’m sorry, my love.”

  She squirmed, her hand catching around my wrist. Her cheeks flushed. “Oh my God, I don’t know whether to stop you or let you keep going?”

  “Let me.” I was growing hard. “We can pleasure each other and still let your cunt rest for a bit.”

  “Griff,” she gasped, reaching out for my cock. “Why does your filthy mouth have to turn me on so much?”

  I grunted as she tugged on my cock. “I don’t know. But I’m glad. Oh yes, Scarlett, harder, tug me harder.”

  She took instruction well, jerking me off as I played with her clit. I tentatively eased my fingers into her cunt, but she winced. Jesus, she was sore. I pressed a kiss to her swollen nipple and returned my ministrations to her clit. "I am sorry."

  "Don't be." She undulated against me, her grip on me tightening to almost painful. It was fucking marvelous. "I loved it. I just… need a rest… oh, Griff…oh God…"

  “Yes,” I grunted. “Like that.”

  She came first. Short, sharp. Beautiful. A flush spread over her perfect, now golden, skin.

  My balls drew up, and I took her hand off me. Scarlett's brows drew together in confusion but cleared when I straddled her waist and took her bountiful tits in hand. She gasped as I slid my hard cock between them and squeezed them around it.

  Her hands went to the headboard as I fucked her tits.

  It was hot.

  Jesus. I was going to come fast.

  I let go of her, grabbed my cock and wrenched it hard, roaring her name as my cum spurted out all over her fantastic breasts.

  Her chest heaved, her cheeks were bright. “So dirty,” she breathed. “so hot.”

  I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. “I’m still hard. You’re like fucking Viagra.”

  She started to giggle uncontrollably and a rush of love swept over me. “We need to get you cleaned up.”

  “You realize you say that every morning to me?”

  “Yes.” I pulled her up to sitting. “Your husband is a lecherous bastard.”

  She glanced down at her cum-covered tits. Cum dripped off one of her nipples, and my cock swelled. "Jesus fuck."

  She grinned at me. “Merry Christmas.”

  It was my turn to burst into laughter.

  ◆◆◆

  After a shower and breakfast, Scarlett and I settled in the villa's lounge. Management had decorated for Christmas at my request, and when we arrived, we had placed our gifts for each other and from friends under the Christmas tree in the corner.

  I sat sipping my coffee watching Scarlett bring the presents over to the rug between the two sofas. It was a domestic scene that I hadn't in a million years imagined myself apart of.

  Whenever Scarlett gave the word, we'd try for children, and soon this vision would change to our kids opening their presents.

  The thought scared the shit out of me.

  But it also filled something inside me I hadn’t known had been empty.

  “I say we open Amelia and Quentin’s gifts first and then ours.”

  I did whatever she wanted to do. I wasn't very good at presents. This was the first year Xavier hadn't bought the gifts on my behalf.

  "Ooh." Scarlett stroked the silk Hermes scarf Amelia (and Quentin, though I suspected he'd left the gift-giving to Amelia as I had left it to Scarlett). "Very 'Old Hollywood.'"

  I smirked. “You’ll look like a red-haired Marilyn Monroe with that wrapped around your hair. Except for the eyes.” No one had eyes like Scarlett. Well, technically her sister did, but even then they weren’t the same.

  “Open yours.”

  I did. It was a TAG Heuer sports watch. "Nice."

  "Very." Scarlett settled on the floor by my legs and leaned up to look at the watch more carefully. "We'll need to thank them for my scarf and your timepiece."

  My lips twitched. "My timepiece?"

  She laughed. “What? Isn’t that what you English call it?”

  "No," I snorted. "We call it a watch."

  "Oh but timepiece sounds sexier in your accent." She preceded to put on an awful English accent. "'Let me just check my timepiece.'"

  Chuckling I shook my head at her. “Please never do that again.”

  “What?” she rested her elbow on my knee, her chin in her hand. The fake accent came out again. “Am I rubbish at it?”

  “You sound like Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady.”

  She giggled and slapped my leg. “I do not.”

  I grabbed her hand, caressing her palm with my thumb. “I’ve decided it’s fucking adorable.”

  “You’re fucking adorable.”

  I shook my head at her nonsense. “I’ve never been called that in my life.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “Hmm.”
I let go of her hand and pointed the present I’d bought her. “That one next.”

  "You first." She dove for the slim package wrapped in silver paper with a red bow at the end. It looked like ... jewelry? Intrigued by the flash of nervousness in her eyes when she gave it to me, I kissed her before opening it.

  “I’ll love it,” I promised.

  Scarlett smiled tremulously. "I hope so. I wasn't sure what to get the man who has everything."

  “You didn’t need to get me anything,” I murmured, unwrapping the present. “You alone are more than I deserve.”

  The paper gave way to reveal a velvet box. I snapped it open.

  The silk lining inside the lid had the words Graf Von Faber Castell on it. It was my favorite pen company. How the hell had she noticed that? I threw her a bemused, pleased smile. “You notice everything don’t you?”

  She gestured nervously to it. “It’s engraved.”

  I gently removed the jet black fountain pen with its eighteen-carat gold tip and turned it around. My breath caught.

  The words ‘You are part of my existence, part of myself – Yours Forever, Scarlett' was engraved neatly along the back of it.

  "Great Expectations." The words came out hoarse with emotion I couldn't fucking hide. Months ago, when we'd begun sleeping together, we'd laid in bed many a night talking about everything and nothing. She'd coaxed the title of my favorite book out of me. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens.

  “It’s your favorite.” She leaned into me and my gaze moved from the pen to hers. “Do you like it?”

  Did I like it?

  I trailed the back of my fingers down her soft cheek. “It’s perfect. Thank you, my love.”

  She bit her lip and grinned. "I'm glad. I just… This way when you're working, I'll always be with you."

  I put the pen carefully back in its box and leaned down to kiss her. It was hard, deep, and not at all the kind of kiss I would be able to give her on Christmas morning in front of whatever future children we had. I pulled back and kissed her nose. “I love it.” Then I reached down to the rug and took hold of my gift for her.

  She took the slightly weighty box in hand and gave me the giddy grin of a child.