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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I empathize with him. Of course I do. But if he’s made his decision he needs to settle on that decision.

“Nothing is going to tear us apart,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. “Nothing.”

“You say that and then in a few days when you tell her that you’re moving on, you come to me with more scratches and guilt and decide to leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he insists and then crushes his lips to mine. “I’m happy. You make me so fucking happy. But sometimes in my grief and guilt I forget that. I forget how badly I wanted you. How much I craved you. I’m not letting you go. Not a chance. Not for all the money in the world.”

“You love her too.”

“I do, but I don’t need her like I need you.”

I grip his cock between us and his eyes flare. “Show me how much you need me,” I breathe against his lips.

He dips, shoves my skirt up to my waist, lifts my thigh and with a bit of tugging he pulls his cock free and slams home making me cry out from the force.

“I want you forever. I want to fuck you every single day. I want to taste your sweet lips. I want to fill your womb with my seed and create a life tied to both of us.” He thrusts with each statement, grinding his pelvis against my clit, kissing my neck and whispers the words against my skin. “You’re everything I ever want and need.”

“I love you,” I breathe. “I want to be the only woman you ever need.”

“You are.”

“Then fuck me, prove it, mark me.” I bite into his neck and suck so hard I just know there’s going to be a ring of red there when I lift my head. He cries out and pummels me with his hips, fucking me so furiously the door bangs with each thrust.

We come together, clinging to each other as our orgasms spiral into one. His cock pulses, my pussy clenches, our breathing is haggard, and our hearts are synchronized.

“We need to stop fighting over this,” he mumbles, “I don’t want to fight with you. What can I do to reassure you that you’re all I want?”

“You can’t, not until your divorce is final and we’re open with the world. Until then I’m going to panic every day that it’s my last day with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

His pain… he’s not afraid to feel it.

“I’d love to stay and chat,” I say, my tone deep and manly as I hold a lock of my hair across my upper lip. “But I really mustache.”

Ezra throws his head back with laughter and yanks my hair from my fingers. His eyes sparkle with amusement when they search my face. “You’re in such a good mood.”

I skip around him like a happy little lamb and throw a box of Lucky Charms into the shopping cart. I pick up a second box and point to the words in the middle. “One could say you can’t resist my charms.”

He chuckles and takes that box off me, only to put that one in the cart with the rest of the food.

His arm snakes around my shoulders and he pulls my head to his lips which soften against my temple.

We’re just getting a few things, enough to last us until we leave on our vacation in six days. My lucky number.

We head directly to the fresh produce where he baulks over the quality of some of the veg. He picks up a healthy-looking carrot after digging through some not so healthy ones.

“Oh look, honey,” I declare loudly, picking up a sprouting potato. “The potatoes are rooting for us.”

He groans dramatically and throws the carrot he was holding at my chest.

Giggling, I catch it, toss it into the cart and stand on the end like a child, making him push me. I hold his eyes, a smile tightening my cheeks. He’s so handsome with his gray eyes, chiseled jaw, thick, tame brows, a nose with a slight crook in it that one wouldn’t notice if they hadn’t spent hours examining his features like I have.

“You’re such a child,” he comments but he’s joking, he loves it when I get giddy like this which these days is more and more often.

“Bitch, peas,” I say, grabbing a bag of the tiny green vegetables as we pass. “I’m…” Damn it. I can’t think of anything. I spy strawberries and cringe as I say, “Strawesome?”

“That was terrible.”

“I don’t see you doing any better.”

He reaches into the cart. “You’re a real pizza work.” I look at the pepperoni pizza in his hand and jump off the cart end, then I round it and throw myself at him, pressing my lips to his while giggling. “What did I say?”


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