Becoming His Mistress Read online A.E. Murphy

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
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He can’t keep his hands off me as it is, but when I’m in such a state of dress, he’s even more attentive which is saying something.

He kisses the inside of my knee and lifts me onto his desk. “Now sit still while I eat you.”

I remember when I used to be shy when he treated me like this, I’d try to find excuses to make him stop, but now I just place my heel-clad feet onto the arms of his chair and hold my weight on my arms as he dines on me like a starving man.

“If I didn’t love you before,” I breathe as he pushes a finger inside of me and sucks on my clit. “I do now.”

I wave excitedly at Izabella who is sitting alone on the veranda of a local café.

When I approach, she stands and kisses my cheeks before motioning to my latte.

“I got your usual choice, service is slow today.”

I look at the bustling business and smile. “I appreciate it.”

I stir my drink, sip it and hum happily.

“Where’s Maria?” I ask, looking around as I take the only available seat at the small table.

My lips part as she assesses me with hard eyes but doesn’t reply. Her gaze drifts to the collar of my shirt and the red mark on my neck above it.

“In my day, those were really tacky.”

I raise my collar and laugh nervously. My fingers tap against the side of my warm mug. “I think they still are, but I suppose they can’t be helped sometimes. Sorry. I should have covered it better.”

She sips her drink, her gaze still harsh and colder than I’ve ever seen it.

“I wasn’t aware you were seeing anybody?”

Oh shit.

She looks at my tapping fingers, so I release my mug and laugh nervously. “Just having casual sex.” I can’t hold her eyes. This is awkward. I have a bad feeling.

“You’re driving my son’s car?” Her tone is suspicious, her eyes are too, her body is tense.

“How do you—”

“I saw you come into the parking lot.”

“He was kind enough to loan it to me,” I reply, it’s the truth. That’s probably not the only truth I’ll be telling her today. This is not going well.

“He’s good to you, my son?”

Oh dear. I really don’t feel good anymore. I squirm in my seat, looking everywhere but at her.

“Always. He’s a great friend.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” she repeats her question from our last meeting and my heart sinks into my stomach. Her tone is bold, hurt. Her eyes magnify it. “Because we’re friends and friends don’t lie to each other.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop.” She slams her hand down onto the table, and I halt my fingers from beating a casual rhythm. I hadn’t realized I was even doing it. I shift in my seat, bouncing slightly, unable to keep still.

“Is there a reason you’re so jittery?”

I shake my head, feeling my eyes burn. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be.”

She slams her hand down on the tabletop again, over my tapping hand which restarted what I thought I’d stopped, making me jump a foot out of my seat. “You’re having an affair with him, aren’t you?” I’m stunned. I don’t know what to say so I just stare at her with panicked eyes while trying to pull my hand free. “I knew this would happen. I warned him to get rid of you.”

I’m shaking. I wasn’t expecting this as I should have been. “Where’s Maria?”

“I lied about Maria, because whenever I have suggested lunch alone over the past few weeks, you have turned me down and now that my daughter-in-law has come to me crying that my son has filed for divorce, I know why.”

Oh no. This is not good at all.

“You lied to me,” she hisses. “You lied to my face. After everything I’ve done for you. After I took you into my home, and my heart.”

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, hiccupping lightly. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. Neither of us did.”

“My granddaughter is hurt.”

I wince at that.

“His wife is hurt.”

“I really think you should be talking to Ezra about this.”

She shakes her head. “My son is weak. Only weak men abandon their wives for girls half their age. There’s no talking to him.”

“He’s not weak,” I implore, “it’s way more complicated than that.”

“There’s nothing complicated about the shame of a woman who disgraces her sister by sleeping with her husband.” She leans towards me, her gray eyes blazing with anger as my hazel eyes burn with the tears that flow freely down my face. “It gets no lower than that in one’s life. I understand desire and passion and I certainly understand sex. But to claim a man as your own when he has promised his soul to another, there is no greater shame.”


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