The Accidental Mistress (2 page)

Immediately, as if he’d heard the thought, John sat up beside her. His eyes were dark, yet lambent, his cock enormous in his jersey trunks, but there was concern on his face, an expression that looked ascetic, almost pure.

‘Lizzie? What is it? Are you all right?’

She sat up too, still shaking. Shaking very hard. Was she in shock? John’s blue eyes narrowed and he dragged a soft blanket from the bottom of the bed and draped it carefully around her shoulders.

‘I … I’m sorry … I just feel a bit odd.’ It came out in a thin,
wavery voice, but he took her hand, and instantly she felt stronger. ‘I … oh, this is stupid. I’m stupid.’

‘You’re not. You’re the least stupid person I know.’ John’s arm was around her shoulder, holding the comforting blanket in place. ‘Now, tell me what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing … I don’t know … I’m really not sure myself.’ She wasn’t. Not right now. He was still temptation incarnate, and yet the intersection of a month’s worth of dreams and longing with the warm reality of John and his beautiful body had sent her into some kind of emotional tailspin.

‘I think we need a little drink. Even if it is early.’ John squeezed her shoulders again, and then slid off the bed, heading for the sideboard. For a special guest like him, there was a silver tray with various bottles upon it, plus a selection of crystal and a rather splendid cut-glass ice bucket. He picked up a familiar green bottle and gave her a questioning look.

Gin. Why not? ‘Please …’ she responded.

He sloshed a measure into two glasses, then looked back at her again. ‘I bet you really prefer it with ice and tonic, don’t you?’

‘Um … yes, I do, actually.’

He smiled and then added tonic and ice to hers, along with a slice of fresh lime from a small dish.

‘Cheers!’ They clinked glasses. Lizzie took a long sip, feeling the spirit settle her and put the brakes on the strange whirling sensation. She hadn’t had gin since she’d last been with John, and now she realised how she missed it. But it
was
much better with ice and tonic.

‘Better now?’

‘Yes, I think so.’ She tweaked the blanket round her shoulders and took another little sip of her drink. ‘I’m sorry. I had a bit of a turn there.’

John reached out, and did some blanket tweaking of his own. ‘You gave me a bit of a scare. You went quite white.’ He brushed his fingertips gently down her cheek, making her shiver in an entirely different kind of turn. ‘You have the most gorgeous creamy skin, love, but that icy white was way too much.’ He cradled her chin, looking into her eyes, searching. Concerned.

Oh, this is ridiculous. I want him to jump my bones, not turn into a nursemaid!

‘I’m OK now, John. In fact … I feel great! It’s just that it’s not every day that someone like me gets a handsome squillionaire for a boyfriend. I’m entitled to go a bit funny!’ She turned her face so she could kiss the palm of his hand, parting her lips against his skin. ‘But I’m all better now. Completely recovered.’

‘Oh Lizzie, Lizzie, I’m all right too. So all right that I’m bloody desperate to f—’ He shook his head, making his golden curls dance. ‘Sorry … I’m bloody desperate to
make love
to you. I just want to touch you and hold you and be in you. No funny stuff … just plain old missionary … Well, that’ll do for the moment.’ His blue eyes twinkled in the wicked boyish way that she loved.

‘Don’t worry, a fuck works for me.’

She wanted to say more but the words wouldn’t form. She opened her mouth, but a silly grin got in the way. She couldn’t stop smiling long enough to communicate verbally any more, so the only thing to do was to use actions instead. Putting aside her glass, she reached for his hand, then shuffled backwards on to the bed, dragging him along with her as she went and swivelling around so she was lying against the pillows.

‘Oh Lizzie, Lizzie,’ he murmured again, and like a horny
schoolboy, he almost threw himself on top of her. Claiming her mouth in a messy, frantic kiss, he rocked his pelvis against hers. Lovely heat bloomed, born of the friction, her pussy loving the pressure and his hardness, her body quickening in familiar, rampaging lust. Cupping his muscular buttocks, she pressed herself even tighter against him, using him to shamelessly work her clit, knowing she was but a breath away from coming after only moments. Such a rocket-ride to orgasm was as absurd as the entire situation, yet it was happening, boy, how it was happening.

But how could it not happen when she loved this man so much?

Kissing her hard, John ran his hand up and down her body, supporting himself on his other arm. It was a frantic exploration, as wild and inaccurate as the kisses, but as rousing as his most complex and sophisticated sex games.

When he thumbed her nipple, and jerked his hips, knocking her clitoris with the knot of his cock, she growled against his lips, coming quick and hard.

Holding her tight, he let her soar, pulsing with pleasure. The peak lasted just a few moments, but when she descended she was smiling, renewed and energised. Her funny turn was a thing of the past, and she was ready to go again, and take him with her this time.

‘Well, that was very nice, John, but I thought you wanted to fuck me?’ She tugged at the waistband of his underwear.

He laughed. ‘Of course I fucking well do, you minx!’ Rolling on to his side, he wiggled out of his trunks, still managing to look elegant while his erection bounced free and slapped against his belly. As Lizzie reached for it, he tapped her fingers gently aside and went for her knickers too, helping her out of them. Moving against her, pressing
his body to hers, he kissed her hungrily, then drew back, even while she was winding her arms around him again and squirming against him.

John grinned then kissed her again. ‘And you’re a demanding madam, Ms Aitchison. Perhaps I should spank your luscious bottom first for being so forward.’ Sliding his other hand beneath her, he squeezed her bum.

‘Later, maybe … But let’s do the wild thing first, eh? I’ve been gagging for it for a month.’

‘So refined,’ he said with a laugh, adjusting their positions so he could slide his hand between her thighs. ‘Now, let’s concentrate on the job in hand.’ Twisting his wrist in a clever, clever way, he slid a finger inside her, and rubbed her clit with his thumb.

‘Please do. Although could we possibly engage some of your other anatomy … you know … further south?’ She rocked, pressing herself against his cock.

‘Hell, yes!’

He clasped her sex in a brief hard squeeze, making her gasp, then shifted around with a swift mammalian grace. Sliding his hand beneath the pillow, he pulled a condom packet out from under it.

‘You were sure of yourself.’ She watched him handle himself, sliding on the contraceptive. ‘Condom always at the ready, eh?’

‘Hopeful, rather than sure, love. One always lives in hope,’ he said, adjusting the fit, then, happy with it, rolling between her thighs.

Leaning his weight on his arm, he kissed her, his mouth soft, beguiling, and loving. Between her thighs, he guided his cock to her entrance, notched himself there, and pushed in, working his hips in a long, smooth shove.

Lizzie clove to him, bringing her knees right up, tilting her pelvis, coaxing him,
commanding
him to go deeper.

‘Yes. Oh God, yes,’ he chanted, starting to thrust. It wasn’t eloquent, but to Lizzie it was music. She added mutterings and encouragements of her own, swinging herself against him as he plunged into her. On instinct, she locked her ankles at the base of his spine, straining against him and drawing him in deeper.

Grunting, gasping, and happily cursing, they rocked and slammed against each other, every one of John’s thrusts knocking against her clitoris, again and again.

It didn’t take long, and within moments, she was coming again, shouting out loud, barely coherent, praising his name as her body rippled and clenched and embraced him. Her fingers gouged at his back and buttocks as she climaxed, and she knew, in a clear high-floating part of her mind, that she was hurting him, but she could no sooner stop doing it than stop breathing.

‘Oh my lovely, lovely girl …’ John’s voice cracked as his hips hammered, the unmistakable strokes pounding into her as he seemed to come and come and come, taking her up, flying high with him again.

‘Oh my lovely, lovely man,’ she echoed, laughing with pleasure and going limp as they floated down together, spent.

‘So, what now?’

It had to be said, but still Lizzie froze, waiting on tenterhooks. Back in the car park, at the station, he’d been all about her ‘taking him on’, but what did that really mean? They led completely different lives, located in completely different places. How on earth was a proper ‘relationship’ going to work?

John gave her a crooked grin, and a shrug, and her tension ebbed. The gesture was so boyish, so not the all-powerful businessman, that it always got to her. She loved him as the dominant one, and her sometime master. But seeing glimpses of this other John, the cute, slightly unsure, slightly younger incarnation, was just adorable … and another huge turn-on.

Focus, woman.

‘Well, to be honest, love, I haven’t really thought it all through yet. I just decided to drop everything and come north, when Brent said … well, when he said you were missing me.’ He poured tea into two turquoise china cups, then added milk. He’d rung down for room service after they’d made love, and
it had arrived while Lizzie had been showering. Now they were sitting together on the bed, bundled in towelling robes, nibbling the Waverley’s delicious home-made biscuits, the tea tray their impromptu ‘what next’ picnic.

‘And I thought I was the impulsive one. You’re usually the man with the plan right out of the gate, being Mr Business and all.’ Lizzie grinned at him. It was always fun to tease him. She knew what it often led to, and that was something simple and thrilling and relatively uncomplicated, compared to the tangle of ‘relationships’.

‘Indeed I am. Just shows what you do to me, you perplexing madam.’ John grinned back, his face alight. She’d never seen anyone with a smile quite like his. Always new, it had that magic quality of lighting up a room. Her hand shook as she reached out for the cup and saucer he held out to her.

The tea was perfect. Milk, no sugar, just as strong as she liked it. He’d clearly noted her preferences a month ago.

‘It’s quite a kick to be able to send a grown man, and such a mega alpha male, doolally. I’ve never quite managed to do that before.’ She took another sip of her lovely tea. Why did a simple cuppa taste like nectar after sex? Or even
before
sex? The glint in John’s eyes had subtly changed. ‘I could really get a taste for driving you to distraction.’

‘Careful, little escort girl, don’t get above yourself.’ His tone was teasing and husky, and there was desire in his gaze again. A fond kind of desire, but still fiery enough to make her heart rev up and her own lust gather low in her belly.

‘Ah, but I’m not your escort girl any more, and I can do what I want now.’ Shooting him a fierce look of her own, she reached for a biscuit and nibbled a bit. It was heavenly, but gorgeous as it was, she wanted something
more
heavenly. And just as delicious.

‘Is that a fact?’ replied John, his voice arch as he set aside his cup and saucer on the tray, and gave her cup and saucer a look as if to say they were superfluous, and that she was blatantly defying him by hanging on to them.

Favouring him with a slow, provocative smile, Lizzie sipped her tea in a leisurely, savouring fashion, and ate more of her biscuit.

John shook his head in mock despair.

‘I think you owe me something, Lizzie.’

‘Since when?’ She knew what it was. She couldn’t help but smirk.

‘Since when we were at the party at the mansion, Ms Wicked, and don’t grin like that at me.’ He sat so still, and his face had a slightly stern look now, even though there was laughter in his eyes. ‘I granted you a rare privilege, and now it’s your turn to pay me back.’

Excitement surged, a sharp, high wave inside her. For a while, memories of that party had been a blur, and it’d felt wrong to revisit them in the face of what had happened afterwards. But now that Brent was well and happy, it was OK to look back, and the erotic thrill of dominating John – albeit temporarily – was a treasure she recalled with profound relish.

He was in charge now, though. And probably would mostly always be. It was a sweet thrill all of its own and one that she’d missed during the weeks since he’d left. Not knowing if she’d ever see him again, she’d banished all thought of being spanked or played with in the way John had spanked and played with her … because she knew there’d never be a man she’d allow to do it to her again.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Oh, I think you do, Miss Aitchison, and it’s payback time.
Now take that tray and put it on the sideboard, then come back here.’ His eyes still fixed upon her, he slowly rubbed the palms of his hands together, as if assessing the rigour that they might inflict on her. Watching him made Lizzie’s desire roll, like a pot of thick honey on a flame. Her sex fluttered, as if already anticipating the reward she’d receive for her … endurance.

‘Come on, be quick about it,’ he added.

Sliding to her feet as gracefully as she could, she snatched up the tray, making the cups and spoons rattle. Her gaze shot to his, and he gave her a mock frown. At the sideboard she set the thing down as gently as she could, but there was still another clatter. Her whole body was trembling in anticipation.

Walking back towards him, to where he now lounged on the bed, she lifted her head, staring back at him boldly. She couldn’t help it; she knew she was the most useless submissive really, but perversely, her master seemed to like it that way.

John shook his head slowly, making his blond curls dance, and a smile haunted the corners of his beautiful, plush mouth. ‘Remove your robe, slave.’

That word always made her want to giggle at first, but his eyes blazed so fiercely at her that she lowered her gaze, and obeyed.