The Mistress (13 page)

"
Preston.
" She let out a needy whimper as she thrashed against him.

"You close, baby?"

"Yes!"

"That's too bad," he panted heavily, and slid all the way out of her. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

"Preston!"

He chuckled at her discontent. He tensed his fingers on her hips, and callously flipped her onto her stomach. With a satisfied groan, like that of a caveman, he threw his body onto hers. In one slick thrust, he sheathed himself inside of her once again. "Fucking you from behind never gets old," he moaned into her ear.

Marissa buried her face against her pillow, which slightly muffled her idyllic squeals. His arms tightened around her thighs as he slammed her into the soft suppleness of their bed. His strong embrace around her legs kept her from spreading them apart, meaning that every hard stroke inside of her felt especially snug. She bucked and pushed her ass into his body so that she could feel his entire length. “Make me cum!” she demanded.

"I love you like this, all wild and horny." His tongue writhed into the opening of her ear in a blatant tease. "Your tight little pussy is so hot." He kissed her ear. “Wet.” He kissed her again. “And it takes all of me with ease.” He kissed one last time.

He gunned into her flowing opening again and again. All that existed in the air were harsh, little grunts mixed with provocative word after provocative word. He could feel her fluids’ sea around him, and he buried his face into her neck with a gasp. She loved the verbal stimulation she was getting from him; it made her arousal grow more intense and her pending orgasm that much more satisfactory.

"Preston ... Oh, God!”Marissa pleaded huskily, her religion coming out just as she was about to hit the brink. "Oh, please, yes ...oh God, yes! Just like that!"

“You like that? Hard, rough, and dirty. That's what you get for being bad," Preston taunted, his eyes squeezed shut. She clenched around him, and he lost the ability to say another word. He could only thrust frantically into all of her pulsing, drenched flesh. That was all it took, though. He came frantically, and his mouth pressed against the soft skin of her neck and sucked hard to stifle his loud, boisterous groans.

When his senses returned, he winced a little. "That's going to leave a mark." Softly, in an apologetic fortitude, he kissed the spot his teeth he had only just moments ago mauled with wrathful expertise. "I'm sorry, baby."

Marissa laughed dazedly. She could barely catch her breath, her entire body still thrumming deliciously. "I think you're forgiven."

F
orgiveness. That word encompasses a lot, but it doesn’t encompass forgetting. Haley could forgive a lot, but she couldn’t forget. Things were getting worse. It had been six weeks since the initial sexual encounter with Preston, the moment they had first fallen victim to lust’s dangling web of sin.

She could forgive him that he had not yet came clean to his wife, but she couldn’t forget. His inability to commit to anything was completely unforgettable. She just wanted him to choose, or at the very least shed some light on what he wanted. Things were getting serious; Haley and Preston’s relationship was
real.

You could argue that their relationship had been real before the physical encounters began, but it had continued to grow closer as of late. In fact, the infatuate honeymoon stage was even dwindling away like a dying flame, and their relationship was blossoming. Some things though did not add up, and the more she pondered on it – could she really trust a man that lived a double life? Could she trust Preston? Did it really matter? He was married to a woman that she cared for; the angrier she got at his deception, the more she wondered, though: what did she want him to do about it?

Did she want him to choose her over his wife, break apart his entire family, segregate her from the kids? What did she want? She didn’t know; but to at least hear
something
from him was a good place to start. He hadn’t spoken on the matter once – not once in six weeks. And it had been all she thought about.
How was that fucking fair?

All the thoughts jumbling in her head had finally done a number on her. She was losing it. Frustrated, she thundered into the closed door of his home office. “We have to talk,” she snapped, storming in. She walked passionately to his mahogany desk and rounded to the side he sat on. She looked to him, and when he didn’t look up, she slammed his computer shut with force.

“Come right in.” A hint of sarcasm slithered off his tongue. He wasn’t happy.

“I will!” she screamed in response. She was actually becoming frightened at the insanity littered within her words. “We haven’t once talked about what is happening, what’s going to happen, and why this is happening! I’m not sure if it’s some game you’re playing or if you actually feel something for me; I’m not sure if you want me or your wife; I’m not sure what you expect to come from all of this – and I sure as hell don’t know when you got the idea to fuck the nanny but we-” her rant was cut short by him angrily leaping from his desk chair and leaning his forehead onto hers with fury.

“I don’t know!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. Preston had never lost his composure; at least, not around her. He was used to high stress, and the fact that he was now inches from her face, screaming at her, honestly caused her to flinch.

As if honing in on his intimidation and her sudden fear of him, he backed away slightly. His hands were on his hips, and he paced across the back of the room. “I don’t know if I love her anymore...” Preston finally admitted with his back turned to her.

She had secretly wanted to hear those words. All mistresses do. Ignoring the fact that she was claiming the title more easily, she continued processing what he had just said. Now that she had actually heard him say it aloud, though, she couldn’t stop thinking about one particular night; in fact, it was the night that brought them together as friends. It was the night her marriage unofficially ended. It was the night her world crashed down from all corners and surrounded her with the debris of everything she missed out on.

~~~

“I
don’t know if I love you anymore,” Daniel confessed sadly.

She had waited for him at home that evening, awaiting the truth after so obviously being lied to. She had supposed – after sitting there for hours – that Jared hadn’t alerted him to any suspicions. Perhaps she was that good of a liar herself – and hadn’t raised any flags with him when she called that evening. But, maybe – just maybe, there wasn’t anything to be alerted about. Maybe there really was nothing to all of this. She was hoping with every fiber of her being that it was merely a misunderstanding, a white lie with a bigger and positive agenda. She was hoping it would be nothing, and despite the small swirling in the pit of her stomach telling her otherwise, she actually believed it. She actually had been optimistic. Until now.

Could she be angry? He was being honest. Fucking honest Daniel, whom she had just caught in a lie. Well, at least he was
finally
being honest.

“Who is she?” she asked quietly, sitting on the couch as she had been for three hours, awaiting his arrival.

“Jessica,” he responded plainly but quietly, expressing true guilt.

Jessica. She didn’t know what was better: knowing the woman, or not knowing the woman. She didn’t know the woman; in fact, she had never heard mention of a Jessica before. She didn’t know her from Eve, not in the slightest. She was sure it was better that way, but part of her wished that she had known of her so that she could have seen it coming.
If
she could have seen it coming, anyway.

She remembered nodding, barely able to formulate a single word, let alone coherent sentences. She was truly taken aback. She really had been blindsided. It was then she left it all – all of her stuff, her husband, and all of the hope she had for a family – behind.

~~~

“I
hate to say that, because I do care for her, and she’s been the only person for me for so many years... But so much has happened-” The more words he spoke, the less intelligible it was. It was his sobs that brought her back from her memory. His shoulders raised and fell quickly; his words were muffled behind wet sounds.
Preston Lancer was crying
. He was showing his vulnerability, and she knew how hard it was for him to say the words that he was saying.

Could she really feel sorry for him though? He had cheated on his wife, and he had used her to do it. She fell for it – all too easily. She fell for him – all too mistakenly. “I love you instead...” he asserted before turning around. He had regained some of his composure.

She had to admit, this cycle had made her a bit of a cynic, but she couldn’t help but wonder what he was saying to Marissa through closed doors – so
could
she trust him? Could she trust in what he just said to her? After all, she wasn’t naïve. She knew that she couldn’t trust her emotions, her resolve, or even her judgment. And if she couldn’t trust herself, who could she trust?

She
really, really
couldn’t trust herself, in fact. He spilled his heartfelt musings and came to her with open arms, and once again she was putty in his embrace. Once again she fell victim to the desire and the eyes of seduction. Those eyes. Those fucking eyes. Blue with hues of green encircling and sparkles of yellow throughout, they looked so innocent. They were red and swollen from the hard sobs of vulnerability, but she was still dazed when she looked into them. Fucking innocent-looking eyes.

She remembered once wondering if they were the devil’s eyes, and now she truly believed they were. Seduction. Deception. Innocence. Kindness. Playfulness. Anger. They encompassed everything within them – and not only did they encompass it all, but did so with such amazing expertise that it frightened her. Every single look that they seemed to represent was as if it were the only look the spheres could glimmer out. It was as if he mastered them all, perfecting them until he needed to convey them with merely a flick of the switch.

They
were
the eyes of the devil, indeed, and she was the devil’s plaything. She let him walk up to her frozen body as she quivered with fear and excitement. She had no idea why her body betrayed her, but what was worse – she had no idea what to do about it.

He wasted no time, grabbing her hips roughly, and in one quick movement lifted her to just above his desk before crashing her cruelly down atop the luxurious wooden surface. He deftly undid the button of her jeans and roughly tugged the zipper down. She mewed in response – wishing that she could suppress her sexual prowess. Wasting no time, he yanked her skin-tight jeans down the length of her legs. She kicked her feet out of the legs haphazardly in response. She was being so ungraceful, partly because the denim caught on the shoes she forgot to take off first, and partly because he ultimately and genuinely just made her a flustered mess. She secretly cursed herself for losing all motor functions to the extreme yearning she felt for him, but in the last month she had learned to accept it. Not particularly like it – but accept it all the same.

She was still exhausted by the continuing battle between her conscious mind and her sex, and she in truth wanted no part of it any longer. But something kept pulling her back to him. She really did revel in the fact that he may very well be true evil, but she ultimately knew otherwise.

She wasn’t sure if he was just a man, confused by who he loved and desperate to find out, or if he was just a manipulative bastard eager for sex and attention due to some sort of repressed psychological battle. Regardless, he wasn’t evil. He was just Preston. And she loved him – no matter what. She hated it with every fiber of her being. But she did. She loved him. She loved him more than anything. She loved him more than herself, and she loved him more than the family she had always strived for.

And that was her answer.

Without even realizing it, her mind brought her to that sad conclusion. It was what she needed to know. At least, for that moment it was. She had just discovered through her chaotic, disorderly musings that she loved the man more than anyone or anything that she held dear. What did that mean? Well, it meant that she kissed him – hard. It meant that she was ready to sacrifice everything for his love, even if it meant that no one else would love her. She had to try. She had to try for him. She had to try to be with him.

He slid his hands up and down her thickly toned thighs, and moaned when he felt the wet spot of her underwear. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she was ready to experience today with him, and every day for as long as she could. No matter what happened, she wanted to be with him while she could, no matter if it was just this moment, or tomorrow, or even fifty years from now. She just wanted him. All of him.

He brutally shoved her against the desk and feverishly jostled the damp fabric of her underwear aside and slid his finger into her forcefully, without warning. She was soaked already, so apparently he felt no need for foreplay. Haley cried out. She was surprised by the sudden intrusion, but it also felt impeccably good. She arched her hips up towards his hand. She hated that he was so good at this.

Preston was too far gone – lost in the moment – to even bother teasing her. He slid a second finger into her dripping heat as he brought his thumb up to rub against her clit.

"Yes!" Haley shrieked.

His rhythm sped dramatically as he thrust and curled his fingers within her. "Preston, please. Now..." Haley had barely whispered, enjoying his ministrations so much that she could hardly become audible. He slipped out of her, but continued working momentously against her clit while he jerked his sweatpants down with his free hand.

It was quite humorous actually; she had yelled in protest when he removed his fingers, but soon nearly shot off the desk with excitement when he suddenly and forcefully replaced them with his member. He slammed into her quickly with determination, his sweatpants still pooled around his feet, her shoes clanking against each other as she wrapped her legs around him, and their shirts were still clinging to their bodies. She giggled slightly at the thought, but hid it from him. She didn’t want to ruin one of the few precious moments they had together.