Page 17 of Forbidden Mistress

I shake myself a little. I’m not here to suck off a complete stranger. I’m here to do a job, get paid, and then go home. Simple. Easy. And hopefully, as the weeks progress, I can pick Lucien’s brain, and get some advice about getting my dad’s business back.

But that’s it.

His attention is back on the woman. “You’ve pleased me,” he says to her. “Stand.”

She rises, back rigid, completely still. Waiting.

My breath is caught in my lungs, and every nerve in my body is on full alert. Somehow, my breasts feel heavy, and my nipples are overly sensitive as they brush against the fabric of my bra.

“Remove your clothes.”

There isn’t much to remove, but she strips off her fluffy heels, her bodysuit, and her thigh-high stockings until she stands completely naked, except for her mask. Her beautifully curved frame is on full display, but she’s still turned away from me.

“On the bed.”

I hold my breath. Oh, my God. What’s going to happen? Again, I feel so awkward being here, watching them like a voyeur. But that’s why I’m here, right? To watch.

Chapter 7

Exclusive to Him

Hart’s submissive, the woman who until a minute ago was wearing the bunny costume, crawls onto the bed, obeying his command to do so. She lies on her back, spreading her thighs. I can see everything from this vantage point, but I’m not focused on her. I’m focused on him. He steps up to the bed and reaches over to take her large breast in his hand, pinching her nipple between his forefinger and his thumb. She writhes a little, tilting her head back. And then, with his free hand, he toys with the curls between her thighs, stroking her flesh.

The woman lets out a little moan, and he looks up at me. Even as he slips a finger inside her, his gaze never leaves mine. I can almost feel his fingers inside me, pumping in and out smoothly, languidly, drawing out my pleasure. Then he adds his thumb, circling it around her clit, drawing another moan from deep in her chest.

My own clit throbs, and every cell in my body tingles. My hands are folded on my lap, and I clench them into fists, squeezing until my fingernails break the skin of my palms.

I desperately want to get up and leave, but I can’t. I’m rooted to the spot, his sharp gaze holding me captive. I watch intently as he adds yet another finger, stretching her, and my own center pulses. I can imagine what his long fingers would feel like inside me, pushing in hard, then pulling out again, mimicking the would-be strokes of his cock.

His hand works her so hard, and so fast, her body moves with every thrust of his hand. Her mouth is open in a silent scream as her body is drenched in ecstasy—I imagine. I can only imagine, and it’s agony. I haven’t been fucked in so long. It’s been since last spring, to be exact. And just once. And that guy had never met a clit, let alone a G-spot, in his life. He was hot as fuck, but such a selfish lover.

I straighten in my chair, using the seat to apply a little more pressure to my throbbing center. I wiggle a little, and that only manages to intensify the desire pumping through my veins. Fuck.

With expert skill, he continues to twist her nipple, then with his other hand still working her clit, he leans down and swirls his tongue around her other nipple, taking it between his teeth. Ohmygawd. That nearly launches me off my chair. Swallowing, I realize my own hand has crept up and I am now pinching my own nipple through my dress. The sharp pain radiates through me, offering a small twinge of relief.

But it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough.

Then Hart lifts his head and again catches my gaze. When he sees my hand resting on my breast, pinching my own nipple, his eyes narrow—or maybe he’s smiling behind that mask? I can’t tell. But it has elicited some kind of reaction from him, and I’m empowered by that knowledge.

It’s so strange…I’m just supposed to be watching, not participating, but I feel like I’m the woman on the bed, being finger-fucked by Hart.

With a low, reverberating growl, he quickens his pace, his thumb working her clit violently. Seconds later, her thighs tighten around his hand, and she screams out, her arms flung outward, catching the comforter in her fists. Her head thrashes and her back arches as a climax crashes over her, and he keeps his fingers inside her until, finally, her body melts into the mattress, completely relaxed.

I can’t help but feel bereft. The woman has gotten her happy ending, but I’m sitting here, more on fire than ever. With a frown, my eyes flick to study Hart. I wonder if this arrangement is a bit selfish on his part.

As he pulls away from her, I remember with a start that I have a job to do here. I launch from the chair and walk to the sink. I wet two washcloths—one for him, and one for her—and then hand them over to him. He cleans the woman off first, then wipes off his own hand, and tosses them toward the lined basket. When one of them doesn’t quite make it and slides to the floor, I reach down to pick it up. His strong hand wraps around my elbow to stop me. Heat and electricity zip through me, and I’m frozen in place.

“You’re not here for that,” he says gruffly. “There’s a cleaning crew.”

“Oh.” I straighten, taking a step back. He releases me reluctantly, and the second he does, I’m pierced by a split-second feeling of emptiness.

“You may help Willow dress,” he orders.

Willow. So that’s her name here. I wonder what my name should be? I don’t really like the one Ms. Lawrence gave me, C. But until I figure that out, I guess that’s all I’ve got to work with.

As I grab Willow’s stockings and bodysuit off the floor, Hart turns toward the hidden door and leaves. Just…that’s it. No goodbye or anything. I stare after him for a second, wondering what the hell he got out of that besides frustration, like me. No happy ending for him either, apparently.

I bring Willow her things. She’s now sitting up on the bed, her skin flushed and looking like she’s just been to heaven and back. I place the bodysuit on the bed and prepare one stocking, so all she has to do is step into it. I hold it out to her, and with a smile, she moves forward.

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