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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“Dick… zipper,” he croaks, sounding agonized.

“Oh dear.” I crouch in front of him. “Is it Something About Mary trapped? Or just caught a little?”

“Unsure.” He falls to his side, still clutching his dick.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Halley asks, peeking around the island that was hiding us from view.

“In his rush for modesty he injured himself,” I explain, trying not to laugh my ass off. I pull away his hands and assess his softening penis for damage. Thankfully the zipper tore through the condom and pinched just the skin of his penis, leaving a bit of a scrape and likely a bruise but nothing major.

“Let me see?” Halley asks, sounding more curious than concerned. “Ooooh.”

“What does oooh mean?” he panics, looking down at his dick. “Turn on the light.”

“Nothing, I was just empathizing.”

“Can you both stop staring at my dick now?”

Halley giggles and I give his thigh a gentle pat.

“Your penis is still attached to your body. It’s not bad. Will some ice help?”

“Maybe a kiss better?”

I roll my eyes and peel the condom from him carefully before tucking him back into his pants. “Come on, Casa-no-no. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Sorry, guys,” Halley starts but I wave her off. “If I’d known you were getting with it in the kitchen, I might have peeked but I certainly wouldn’t have interrupted.”

“Voyeurism, kinky,” I reply while smiling at our mutual friend who is watching us with extreme amusement.

When I stand to full height, he rubs his penis area, a pained expression still on his face. “That’s not how I imagined I’d get your face close to my dick.”

I smack his chest. “Idiot. Who gets their penis trapped in their zipper?”

“Drunk me, apparently.”

I hook his arm around my neck, fully intent on babying him the way he thinks he deserves.

“You poor thing.”

Chapter Forty

No other man compares. No matter how hard I try to put them on his pedestal.

I left Robert in the kitchen after spending the night with him curled around my body, his sore but erect penis pressed against my butt all night. He kissed me when we woke, a slow and sensual kiss that I returned briefly before getting ready for the day.

When I escaped his apartment after brewing a pot of coffee for him to wake up to, I expected to just go home, sleep some more and forget about how drunk I was last night.

Instead I find myself face to face with an irritated-looking Ezra as he leans against the side of his parked car and assesses my state of dress. I took a spare change of clothes so I’m not doing the walk of shame, having known I’d probably spend the night at Robert’s.

“Morning,” he greets, his tone as tight as his body.

I stop and stare at him, the way his biceps are bulging against the fabric of his short-sleeve T-shirt make me remember how they looked while holding him up as he thrusted inside of me.

“The man that broke my heart, just who I wanted to see first thing in the morning.”

“It’s actually eleven, not daybreak, and I never meant to break your heart.” His voice… God, his voice… why do I love it so? “Can we talk?”

I look at where he’s parked illegally and wonder how long it will take for him to get a ticket. “What’s left to say?”

“Everything. Nothing. Something.”

“Why do you insist on it, Ezra? Why can’t we just pretend we don’t exist?”

He steps towards me, his gray eyes stormy with need and grief, “Because life without even a fraction of you just feels so fucking bleak.”

My breath catches because I feel the same. “I can’t sit and watch you and Elizabeth play happy family.”

“You won’t have to. I’m asking for emails, texts… anything… anything… smoke signals. Just something of you. Weekly updates. A conversation. Nothing seedy, nothing sexual… just…”

“Friends?” I almost laugh hysterically and sob even more hysterically. “You fired me. You left me in the middle of the fucking night after making love to me twice.” He flinches but I don’t hold back. “You promised me a family, a future, a life together and then you took it away without even saying goodbye to my face.” I shove his chest, ignoring passersby who look our way. I hope somebody films this, uploads it, and outs him for the shit he is. “You broke me. And now you want weekly updates on how I’m doing? What the fuck is that? I never even want to see you again.”

“You don’t mean that… what we have is… it’s real and you know it.”

“No, your marriage is real. What we had were sprinkles on the top of your perfect world and TNT in the foundations of my already shit one.”

“Cuore mio,” he breathes, looking pained. When he reaches for me, I slap his hand away.

“I’m going,” I say firmly.


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