The Mistress

by Lexie Ray

  She grabbed it and held it tightly within her palms. She was going to ask him. She stormed through their bedroom and into the hallway. Crossing the threshold of their bedroom, she heard voices: Sophie’s and Preston’s voices. They were speaking normally and not in hushed whispers, but her instincts told her to stop and listen. Call it complete paranoia, if you will, but she had to listen.

  Part of her hoped that it was in regards to what they had just discussed earlier this week. Hopefully it would shed light on issues that Preston had still left her in the dark about. Hopefully she would know more about what the hell was going on in her own house. Everyone was being strange, and she wanted to know why.

  But it wasn’t what she heard. She heard anger in the child’s voice, and she wondered why. “Daddy, I don’t think you can love two people at the same time,” she cried out.

  “It isn’t always black and white, sweetie,” he responded, as if he knew all too well. He sounded sad, but she couldn’t place why. What the hell? What were they talking about? “Love isn’t cut and dry, and there are several different kinds of love.”

  “But he likes her better than me!” she screamed. And then it hit her. Sophie had a boyfriend. She was talking about her boyfriend. She was glad that Preston was trying to ease her spirits with his motivational speak. She smiled, and just as she was about to take a step, he spoke again.

  “This is about your boyfriend?” he asked, confused. He didn’t know that? What did he think they were talking about?

  Unexpectedly, her cell phone rang loudly, and she knew there was no longer a need to hide. She would have been found out. She answered quickly and acted as though she were merely just beginning her trek through the hall. It was Joseph, and now she had even more to talk about. She buried the charm into her pocket and walked out the door. She was ready to meet her friend and gain some third party insight on her confusion.

  ~~~

  “He’s cheating,” Joseph said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his sweet tea.

  Marissa shook her head. “Too easy,” she responded. “Preston knows better. We made a pact. We would never cheat. We would talk to the other before we made that mistake.”

  “What if it just happened?” he asked, perplexed. “People don’t always know they’re going to cheat. Shit happens.”

  “But you know when things aren’t going the way you want them to...you know when things need to be fixed,” she defended, crossing her arms, offended.

  “And is everything what you want it to be in your relationship? Do you think things need to be fixed?” he asked, trying to make a point.

  “Well, of course things need to be fixed! I’m sitting here with you, suspicious as hell, and you’re talking about the possibility of him cheating on me and the kids!”

  “Honey, you’re talking to me. You’re not talking to him. You said it yourself – if things needed to be fixed, you’d talk about it. If you’re not holding up your part of the deal, how can you expect him to? That pact was made ages ago, and you know it’s not always that easy. Sometimes there’s a problem and you don’t know it’s a problem until it’s too late. And it isn’t the kids he’d be cheating on; it’d be you. Only you.” He was speaking so directly, and with no sign of empathy. She was getting angry, but she didn’t know why; maybe it was the fact that he was voicing what she had feared, or maybe it was because she had feared it all along. Was he cheating? Was something going on?

  And then it all whirl-winded into her mind all at once. The signs, the signs, oh, the fucking signs.

  Was she blind? She hoped that she and Joseph were completely off base, but she wondered once again – only for an entirely different reason: should she trust Preston? Could she?

  ~~~

  "I want to give you everything you want," Preston told her, running his fingers through her hair. "Whatever that may be, Haley.”

  “You know, whether it's sweet and tender, or passionate and forceful, or even kinky. Really. As kinky as you may want it,” he continued, obviously trying to keep from laughing at his own joke.

  Marissa had gone out with her friend Joseph for the day, and Haley and he were in charge of the kids. Well, truthfully, he was supposed to be working. To be fair, he had been working – working on her nerves that is. She was trying to make the kids lunch, but he was consistently making moves and driving her to the brink of insanity.

  She blushed at his words and didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she turned her back to him and began chopping up vegetables frantically. “Smell that?” he asked.

  “The food?” she asked in annoyance.

  He laughed and put his arms around her waist. “No. That smell of... 100% you. That lovely aroma of sweat and female juices flowing from in between your legs. It has your signature all over it,” he began. She rolled her eyes. It seemed like that was all that was on his mind, as if he was some sort of crazed sex fiend. They rarely had conversations anymore, and when they did it seemed like a ploy to get her into bed. “I want to be inside of you,” he whispered, his aim on a seductive tone, but honestly he just sounded lecherous and annoying.

  "Haley?" he called out, concerned. It was then that she felt him pull her around to face him. A finger reached out and touched under her chin. He tilted her head up and kissed her, deeply. “I’m just joking,” he said lovingly. “I’m not meaning to annoy you – I just missed you.”

  And then it happened – she fell into his embrace, letting him pull her closer and press up against her. He ran his hands over the small of her back, and she moaned into him.

  "Preston," she whispered. “The kids are upstairs.”

  He shushed her and kissed her again, and without being told, he stopped. He pulled away. “Don’t ever act like I just want sex. I love you.”

  With those words, he left. And in an instant she felt like an asshole. She felt as if she had just accused him of something horrible and that he was hurt. She felt sad. Why did she love him so much?

  She finished the kids’ lunch and served it to them before she tried to address the issue with him. She found herself about to knock on the door of the office, but when she reached the door, it suddenly opened. “I heard you coming,” he said, turning and leaving the door slightly ajar so that she could enter. That damn creak in the floor.

  “You know, we’ve had sex in here three times,” she said, a smirk on her face. She knew she should feel bad, but she had come to terms with the fact that when she was around him – her guilt didn’t matter. Nothing did.

  “Twice,” he corrected, turning to her just before he reached his desk.

  “No. Three times,” she responded seductively, as she hurried to him and slammed against his lips in a fiery kiss. “So what was that that you were saying about my smell?” she asked, pulling apart from their heated passion for only just a moment before crashing into him once again.

  “I can smell your arousal, and right now – I can see it in your eyes,” he responded between kisses.

  “And what’s this about being kinky?” she asked, ridding herself of her shirt so that she was clad only in a black lace bra.

  It was crazy, really. Haley remembered the first time that they had engaged in sex. She was angered at the fact that he ripped away at her shirt – and now, here she was entertaining the thoughts of kinky sex. All sorts of it, in varying degrees of kink. Her resolve was growing the more she was with him; he had created a wild side. And sometimes, she was scared of that wild side; it was a beast that reared its head unswervingly until she satiated its cravings. Sometimes it was inconvenient. Especially with the kids in the house, and especially when she knew that everyone had noticed her growing distance from them. It was only a matter of time before everyone figured it out.

  "Does it make you wet thinking about it, Haley?" he asked her hotly, before enveloping her lips with his again. He teased the clasp of her bra with his fingers until he snapped it open and removed it, smoothing his palms across her flesh.

  She whimpered at his words.
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br />   "It's okay," he continued. "I'm hard thinking about it.”

  He found her hand and moved it to his cock, just as he did before their first date together. It was hard, extremely so. Her fingers closed around his girth, and he groaned out her name in pleasure. Even weeks later – even after the honeymoon stage of something new – they still were lost in one another’s passionate groans.

  Haley’s mind wandered and her body moved on pure instinct, and before she knew it she was on the desk, her legs spread, naked. Preston was also miraculously naked. How it all happened, she wasn’t sure. She could only assume that it was heated, because she had blacked out – the measures of passion obviously taking over. He slid his fingers up and down her dripping folds, moving deftly and working her clit with great expertise. Not that he had needed it, but he had had a lot of practice over the last couple of months.

  "I think you are quite the sex addict,” he said, rubbing furiously. "I think you want me to bend you over, and instead of fucking you in this dripping pussy of yours, finger you in your tight little asshole."

  "Preston, oh my God," she moaned. She couldn’t believe she was actually entertaining the idea of allowing that. She had never tried anal before, and it had never appealed to her until now. He had that effect on her, after all. She tried to squirm, but he held her firmly in place, grabbing one ass cheek with his other hand, lifting her slightly off the mahogany surface. While he massaged her ass, his other hand trailed from her clit and teased the entrance of her pussy.

  "You like being naughty for me, don't you, baby? You like to pretend you're a good girl, but what you really want is for me to do dirty things to your body and make you scream. That’s all you ever want, isn’t it?”

  This was torturous. Her face and body burned with an intensity of a volcanic eruption, and he was looking at her as if he was ready to devour her. Every word sent magmatic fire through her veins. He kept going. "I could fuck your ass until you forgot that you'd ever liked it any other way, and then I'd make you cum and beg me to never stop.” She believed him. She didn’t believe a lot that he said anymore, truthfully, but she did believe that. She believed he could get her to do anything sexually and have her beg for more.

  "Preston, please," she managed. He had two fingers inside her pussy now and was plunging them in and out at a pace that made her head spin. God, she wanted him; always and forever, especially now, as his fingers delved into the core of her body.

  "Please what, baby?" he asked her, placing kisses on her neck as his fingers continued to work energetically between her legs. “Tell me what you want."

  When she didn’t answer, he pushed her back harder into the desk, and without another word, topped her. Her legs instinctually opened to him, accepting him, and everything he was.

  Preston held himself closely above her, his blue orbs searching her own, as if he were looking for answers. For what, she had no idea, but she wanted to find them for him. Her ragged breath was strong between them, and she quaked as he entered her pussy slowly, never breaking her gaze.

  "Preston!" she gasped.

  He pulled back and pushed into her powerfully, quite viciously actually, but in all honesty, it was what she needed to feed the raging beast, the desire he had built up within her. She moaned loudly as he pounded into her, and when he lifted her legs up and threw them over his shoulders like he so expertly did from time to time, she cried out, his girth hammering deeper into her than she had ever imagined.

  "Oh my God!” she chanted repeatedly, grabbing onto the edge of the desk, clawing at the wood.

  "Fuck, Haley," he managed to voice through gritted teeth.

  "Preston stop, stop," she protested underneath him, trying suddenly to wiggle away from him.

  He growled, but stopped moving immediately. He let her legs go and leaned forward to rest his sweaty forehead against hers. "What is it?" he questioned, completely breathless, but his annoyance was audibly noticeable.

  "Sorry," she panted. "I don’t want it to be over quite yet.”

  She was sure she looked thoroughly ravished lying underneath him, her back against the desk top. He sighed and kissed her. She felt her emotions pouring out through her kiss in return. She began exploring his mouth languidly with her tongue and pulled him closer. She realized that what she wanted was not what she thought she wanted. She loved their hot intensities and their lustful engagements, but that wasn’t all she wanted.

  She wanted him to reassure her – of what, she wasn’t sure. She knew he couldn’t reassure her about what he wanted, because she was sure that he absolutely didn’t know what he wanted. She needed him to make love to her, not just fuck her. Still inside of her, unmoving, and as if he had sensed it all, he stretched his body out gently, their legs intertwining. He leaned into her mouth and gave her one more slow and passionate kiss. Her heart fluttered a bit, but finally slowed its pace, and he ran his hands over her gorgeous curves, stroking her.

  "You are so beautiful," he whispered. She shuddered, partially from his words and partially because he began caressing her breasts. "You are perfect," he continued, his face burying into the crook of her neck. He pressed light kisses against her flesh. "There are so many things I want you to feel; not just sexually, but it’s the best way that I can express it."

  "Preston," she gasped, her fluid-soaked walls clenched around him.

  "More?" he asked, and she nodded in response. He pulled out of her slowly, and she looked up at him in confusion. He quickly answered her looks when he moved to the side and gently rolled her to face away from him, molding his body against hers.

  He grasped at her top leg so that he could hold her open for him as he pushed into her again, this time from behind. She moaned; she loved taking it from behind. It was the best position to her; it allowed him to fill her completely and create more physical closeness than many thought possible. He moved slowly at first, but when she grinded against him shamelessly in an effort to persuade him to quicken his pace, his speed began to pick up.

  Her whimpers became desperate. He was hitting the perfect spots with every thrust.

  "Cum for me," he told her. "I want you to pretend like I'm fucking your ass right now, and I want you to cum for me."

  She whimpered in surprise and even embarrassment. That slight mortification that she felt, though, she was nothing compared to the way his words went straight to her engorged clit, spreading heat throughout her entire body.

  "Is that why you like being fucked from behind so much, Haley?" he asked, driving his hardness into her wet, trembling core over and over again. That wasn’t why, but hearing him ask in such a crude manner made her body tremble, turned on to the point of no return.

  His groin slapped against her ass with every thrust, and it wasn't hard to pretend it really was her ass he was fucking. The thought was admittedly hot, something that she would never had thought possible before him. Her arousal was so intense that she could hardly stand it. She rubbed her clit desperately – just wanting to reach her peak.

  His gentle thrusts had become so much more forceful, and the desk began to creak under their movements. Haley felt herself spiraling out of control as Preston worked her body expertly, whispering dirty things in her ear. "Would you like me to stick it in your hot little ass?"

  "Preston!" she screamed as her orgasm ripped through her. It was the most intense, mind-blowing climax she had ever experienced. And that was saying quite a bit, because every orgasm with Preston seemed to blow her mind. But now it was even more intense, so intense that she felt her juices flow out of her and coat her inner thighs.

  She continued to shake in Preston's arms, her vision blurred. When it finally cleared and she became aware of her senses again, she found that he was still thrusting into her, her leg still in his hands and stretched up to allow him access. Her center began to spasm uncontrollably around him with every thrust.

  She knew he was getting close when he had buried his face in her neck and was rutting against her in unusually uneven s
trokes, his breath unsteady. "That’s it, Preston,” she moaned in his ear, urging him on. "You made me cum so hard. Oh, God, you feel amazing."

  He choked on whatever words he'd tried to say in response, and she smirked devilishly. It was comforting to know that she wasn’t the only one affected by lust in this relationship.

  "Can you feel how wet I am for you?" she cooed. “I love being wet for you. Cum for me, baby.”

  His breathing became even more ragged, and she could tell that he was close. Deciding to drive him over the edge, she moaned in the sexiest voice that she could muster, “I want you to fuck me, Preston. I want you to fuck me with that big cock of yours, bend me over and fuck my tight little ass until I scream your name,” and with that, he shuddered his release. She smirked again – she loved having some power over him for a change.

  Chapter 15

  She was late again. Marissa growled at her sister’s disrespect. This was the fifth time in six weeks that she had been late! Luckily they weren’t busy today, but what if they had been? Rachel was far from a clairvoyant. She couldn’t predict rain if she felt a drop hit her in the face, let alone their bakery crowd.

  Joseph went to her, grabbed her shoulder tenderly, and tried to soothe her, but that wouldn’t work. Not this time. She was livid. “There are only three of us, for fuck’s sake!” she yelled, surprising not only Joseph, but herself for her crudity. She pulled her hair in frustration.

  Truthfully, it wasn’t just Rachel’s antics, but also everything going on at home. She hated not trusting Preston, and she hated feeling like things were out of place. It wasn’t like her to be suspicious, but perhaps that was what scared her the most. The fact that she was suspicious might mean something.

  She grabbed a rolling pin forcefully from the utensil vase and began rolling out dough; she wanted to rid her mind of the utter infuriation with her sister and home life. She had been rolling out the dough so roughly that the wooden rolling pin clanged loudly on the metal tabletop. It was so loud, in fact, that she barely heard the bang from behind them – coming from the exit.