The Accidental Mistress (23 page)

He gave her no time to respond. Instead he proved the veracity of his toothpaste claim by taking her mouth in a hard and deliciously minty kiss. Lizzie gave her all in return, dropping her bag on to the floor so she could wind her arms tightly around him, pressing her body to his.

His body was already on the same page too, his cock pressing hard against her belly. Moving fast, she slid her hand down, gripping the firm muscular round of his buttock, then working the towelling robe up and out of the way, so she could caress his bare arse.

‘Mmm … bold,’ he whispered against her lips. ‘So what now?’

‘We finish what we were up to when we were so rudely interrupted.’ She squeezed him, letting her fingers float and explore.

‘I like a woman who knows what she wants.’ He rocked his hips, pushing himself at her.

‘And I like a man who does what he’s told … sometimes.’

Now where had that come from? She hadn’t come here intending to take the upper hand, but touching him, and feeling his erection kick, filled her with power. And with the lust that had been thwarted last night. He was a beautiful man of power himself, but she could command him when she chose to, and she chose now.

‘Really?’ There was challenge in his voice, as his mouth roved over the side of her face. Last chance to change her mind and slip into their delicious, familiar roles.

‘Really,’ she affirmed, her own voice bordering on sharp. Letting her fingertips settle against his testicles, she twisted her face, then took the lobe of his ear between her teeth, capturing him in a dual threat.

He fell perfectly still, but it was a wild, energised stillness as he fought his urges. He’d told her he’d only occasionally subbed in his life, and she wasn’t sure it came particularly easily to him. It might even be a stressor.

But John was a controlling man, and if she wasn’t careful, he’d overwhelm her: with houses, presents, simply with his breathtaking charisma. He wouldn’t do it in a bad way … But he’d still do it, and even though she revelled in his dominance, it wouldn’t hurt to redress the balance now and again.

‘Of course,’ he said in a quiet, vague voice, as if he’d fallen into a fugue of some kind, compelled there by her touch. Lightly, oh so lightly, she closed her teeth a little more, just nipping, and then, crooking her wrist, she cupped his balls and held them.

A divine shiver went through him. Power all contained. His breathing skittered, and got ragged. She still wondered if he was smiling, though, out of her sight.

She released his ear, but not his testicles. They were hot and firm to her hand. She didn’t squeeze them. That was a
pain too far. She was only a playful mistress, not a cruel one.

But she could be the kind who’d make him serve her. ‘I’m horny, John. I’ve barely slept a wink. I’ve lain awake, frustrated. Wanting what I didn’t get from you last night.’

He opened his mouth against the side of her face, but she said, ‘No, don’t speak. No words.’

Instead of words, he stole a kiss, his lips like velvet against her cheek, his tongue flickering against her skin.

‘Uh oh, watch the make-up,’ she warned, even though she wore neither foundation nor powder, and her lips were defined by her usual long-lasting lip pen.

He kissed again, defiant.

‘Wicked man. Wicked, wilful man. I ought to punish you for that, but I don’t want to get all hot and bothered and sweaty when I have to go to work.’ She imposed her hold on him, infinitesimally, and his mouth stilled against her face.

It was a fine balance of power. But not active enough for her somehow. She released him, and then pushed him away a little, looking him up and down. Somewhere in their clinch, his robe had come unfastened and his cock poked out rudely, fully erect.

‘Did I say you could point that thing at me?’

He shook his head, his uncombed hair ruffling. His face was composed, but his eyes were full of merriment. He was just as terrible a sub as she was herself.

‘Wipe that smirk off your face and take your robe off. Let me see all the goods.’

All grace, he shrugged off the bathrobe and tossed it in the general direction of a chair, where, amazingly, it landed and stayed even though he’d not looked. Show off!

Lizzie kept her own expression cool and appraising, even though everything in her was silently wolf-whistling.
She would never tire of looking at John, naked. His lean, beautifully proportioned body was a joy. Regardless of his world-weary remarks about his years, he was in far better condition than most men half his age.

He was clearly expecting her to give an order, so instead she asked a question.

‘So … apart from the obvious …’ – she nodded at his quivering cock – ‘what do you want?’

Still smiling with his eyes, despite what she’d said, he answered, ‘Thank you for your kindness, mistress. I think I should like to service you. If you wish it.’

If I wish it? You wave a gorgeous dick like that at me and ask me if I wish it?

‘Yes, perhaps that would be amenable. But nothing rough, nothing untidy. You can kiss me … down there … if you like, but don’t make a mess of my clothes. No mauling and grabbing in the process.’

Struggling to keep her face straight, she remembered how he’d given her head on command, at the Eyes Wide Shut party. He’d been so obedient, and so diligent, what a trip!

Without allowing him much time to absorb her words, she turned and sashayed over to the bed, and sat right on its edge. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she smoothed up her slim skirt, slowly revealing her thighs, the tops of her stockings and her suspenders … and finally her naked crotch and her dark bush.

Ta da!

John’s eyes widened and his tongue darted out, stroking over his plush lower lip. He probably didn’t realise he’d done that … but then again, maybe he did?

‘Thank you, mistress.’ She’d given him no permission to speak, but still, he thanked her for his gift.

A reprimand would be too obvious, so she narrowed her eyes at him. Bingo! He dropped his own gaze immediately, and a touch of colour gathered on his cheekbones. Whether this was a genuine response, or simply a combination of his phenomenal dramatic skills and his mastery of bio-feedback, she couldn’t tell. But the way his cock looked stiffer than ever was certainly real.

‘Well, then? What are you waiting for?’ She paused a beat. ‘And no, you needn’t crawl … you’ve got fabulous knees and I don’t fancy spoiling them with carpet burns. Now come on.’ He walked the few steps towards her, eyes still downcast, his erection bouncing meatily. When he reached her, he sank gracefully to his knees, like some kinky naked choirboy before an altar. He did look up then, and she could tell he wanted to lick his lips again; she could see fine tension in his mouth and jawline as if he was actively controlling the response. The sight was so stirring that she could only nod for him to proceed, rather than form the words. Leaning back on her elbows, she parted her thighs further.

John dipped lower, swooping in. She expected him to go right for her pussy, attacking with his heavenly skills, and swinging the balance of power back to himself when the sensations overwhelmed her.

But he resisted, pressing his lips very delicately to the pit of her belly, just above her pubic hair. The kiss was light, and reverent, not even a flick of tongue, and he followed it with more of the same, visiting and worshipping every inch of the slight curve there, and the grooves of her groin, before circling back and laying a closed-mouth kiss against the dink of her navel.

Lizzie gasped. How could that be so bloody; arousing? He wasn’t even exploring her belly button; he was barely
touching it, and yet she squirmed uneasily, feeling the seesaw start to tip towards John. He was hardly doing anything, yet he was getting the better of her.

‘More action,’ she commanded, her voice roughened by a sudden dry throat.

He gave the faintest of nods, then laid his hands on her, combing apart her pubic hair with his thumbs, parting her labia, and exposing her clit. But, again, instead of storming in to lick and suck her, he kissed her there with the same dry, slight kiss, lips still together. He was almost nuzzling her in a way, gently saying hello, letting his mouth travel respectfully over the geography of her sex. It was about as far from the expression ‘eating out’ as she could have imagined.

When he’d travelled the entire area, he looked up at her, nothing submissive in his gaze, just questioning. She nodded again.

Then he returned, lips parted, tongue working.

It was still slow, still full of reverence, but thorough, so thorough. He licked at her neatly, painstakingly, coating a zone that was already swimming with additional moisture from his tongue. She was burning hot, burning up, but somehow his lips and tongue were cool, like balm, both infinitely provocative but also soothing. Subsiding fully on to her back, she reached down and buried her fingers in his untidy blond curls.

‘Mmm …’ She could no longer keep quiet, even though she knew she was in danger of undermining her dominance through her uncontrolled response to his majestic skills.

From beneath heavy eyelids, she looked down at him, both venerating and tormenting her. Sex wasn’t the answer to all life’s questions and complications, far from it, but like this, it was a bloody good place to start.

‘More,’ she urged again, falling back against the mattress. He went to work with a fury now, tongue lashing and flickering, diving around, but again and again, jabbing and jostling her clit. Pleasure gathered in great surges, racking up and up and up, while her body, with a mind of its own, surged as well. She jerked against him, goading and commanding, more and more. Digging her fingers into his scalp, she twined and twisted at the silky strands of hair.

‘You bastard!’ she shouted, over-tipping into climax as he redoubled his devilish efforts. Mashing herself against his face, she squirmed and squirrelled about, riding the delicious cascade, gasping and yipping the cliché, ‘Yes, yes, yes.’

With the fine arts of his tongue, he coaxed her through another climax, and then another, until a pale shadow of her domina act whispered,
Enough, he’s ruling you with it!

Hitching herself half-upright, and grabbing him by his hair and ears, she hauled his greedy face from out between her legs.

‘You really are a devil, you know,’ she gasped, trying to glare, but ending up grinning at him.

‘I’m sorry, mistress,’ he said, his smile and his half-laughing voice telling her he was having at least as much trouble with his role as she was having with hers.

‘You’re insolent, and you get above yourself all the time. Don’t think I don’t know what your tricks are? Trying to get control over me with your infernal tongue skills? There’s a difference between giving someone pleasure, you know, and driving them completely off their heads with it!’

‘Forgive me. I’ll try not to do it again.’

‘My arse …’ she jeered, loving the play-acting. ‘If you wish it, madam.’

Lizzie had to bite her lips, fighting the laughter. How
could a sophisticated man of forty-six look like a wicked imp of a randy teenaged boy? Kneeling there, smirking at her, with his shiny-wet lips and the gleam of her even on his chin? ‘Wicked, wicked man,’ she growled, feeling desire start roiling again, building in the still warm embers of orgasm. God, she wanted him in her now. In deep, probably too deep to maintain any kind of decorum or uncrumpled condition in her skirt. ‘You don’t deserve any kind of relief for that monster …’ She nodded down at his rearing, reaching cock, so thick and ruddy. ‘But because I’m a fair mistress and a nice person, I think I’m going to have to let you have me.’

‘That would be wonderful, mistress.’ His beautiful, beaming smile was like gold, dazzling her and turning her head.

‘Yes, and to be even more wonderful, you can have me in your choice of position, you rogue. Just as long as you behave yourself and don’t rip my skirt or anything with your antics.’

‘I’ll try to contain myself.’

She noted the lack of ‘mistress’ now. The sense of tilt made her giddy, like sipping Champagne before breakfast. John, on an empty stomach, was intoxicating.

‘So, what’s it to be? How do you propose to service me?’ She chose the word carefully, to redress the teetering balance.

‘Doggie style would be nice.’

More than nice. Her entire body rippled, as if every cell had just gone, ‘Ooh yes …’

‘Ah, that takes me back to our first time,’ she said, reaching out to touch his face, where her silk still shone on his lips and his stubble-clad chin. She’d barely noticed the morning whiskers when he’d been pleasuring her, but she wondered now if she might have a bit of beard-burn on the insides of her thighs.

‘Happy days,’ he replied, cupping her hand, then drawing her fingertips to his lips and kissing them.

‘Indeed, but don’t you want to see my face?’ she challenged. ‘You always claim that you love to see my face as I come … or you come … or we both come.’

‘You have the most beautiful face in the world, mistress.’ He pressed a kiss against her palm, stroking it with his tongue and creating infernal echoes of what he’d just done below the border. ‘But when I’m fucking you, I also love to lean over your back and bury my face in your gorgeous hair while I’m deep inside you.’ He gave her a saturnine look. ‘And you also have an arse that would launch a thousand … no, a million ships!’

‘Cheeky!’

‘Precisely.’

‘Oh, get on with it, then.’ She snatched away her hand, and cuffed him lightly on the chin.

‘Perhaps you could take your skirt off? So it won’t get mangled if I lose my head?’

Lizzie grabbed him by the back of the neck, and kissed him hard, then stared into his dazzling blue eyes, holding her nerve by just a thread. ‘You’re just trying to get me to pander to your filthy kinks again, aren’t you, Mr Smith? To exhibit myself to you, naked from the waist down, just in my stockings?’

His eyes were like fire, a fierce flame, a torch. ‘And your heels,’ he added, slyly.

‘You’re incorrigible.’

‘I know. But you like it.’

‘Fuck you … yes I do!’

Without replying in words, he rose to his feet and drew her up too. Pausing now and then to kiss her lips or her hair,
he unbuckled her belt, and then laid it over a chair. Then he tackled her slim skirt, which had slid down to cover her modesty, undoing the button and the zip, then sliding it over her hips. He offered his shoulder for her to lean against as she stepped out of it.