Taylor

Asher’s POV

I let her go after that. I watched as she ascended the stairs, stealing glances at me and blushing profusely. I couldn’t go after her; I didn't trust myself to keep my hands off her if I followed her up to her bedroom. I wouldn’t hold back, so I stayed at the foot of the stairs, my cock straining in my pants.

I peeked at my watch, it was a little past 9 pm. I downed the contents of my glass; I couldn’t stay in the house knowing she was up there. I tried to imagine what she was up to, picturing her naked in the bath, which did nothing to help me. The mansion didn’t feel big enough to protect her from me. If I stayed any longer, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from charging into her room.

I rang for the housekeeper. A tall, fat lady with black hair tied back appeared at the doorway. “My wife needs h—” I paused. “My wife,” I repeated, savoring the words. It made me feel so good on the inside. I looked to see the housekeeper still staring at me expectantly.

“My wife needs he