Page 53 of Mistletoe Missus
What the actual fuck?
I found the picture on my cell phone after searching through my previously opened tabs and was in utter shock. There was a photograph snapped without my knowledge of me giving Mitt head. The memory of his office and my husband’s muscular hand with his wedding band immediately gave away where the picture happened. I couldn’t ever forget such a hand gripping my hair, and the memory made me wet all over again. I wished I could wipe the heated event from my mind, but I couldn’t. Our fiery encounter was goddamn hot and had consumed me since.
The embarrassment of the lustful moment had led to me fleeing my husband’s office in a flustered mess with my pussy weeping through my panties. I was soaked. I had to change the ruined thong as soon as I got back to the estate and answer to a persistent best friend who’d kept calling me for an update on Operation Divorce. The plan had gone up in smoke, or in my case, flames, with my drenched pussy unable to put the fire out. My aching arousal craved more satisfaction and the bitch between my legs wanted more of my husband than I shouldwant. But his cock was amazing, and I wanted him to fuck me until I couldn’t walk straight.
I had informed Holly that our scheme had failed and the only positive in her eyes was at least I got a sweet-ass ride out of the deal. Mitt could’ve returned the Rolls-Royce, but it was on its way for me to drive all around the city. I just had to suck him off to keep it. But her words made me disgusted with myself. I wasn’t someone Mitt could use to keep a car I didn’t even want when all I needed was the divorce he’d denied me of. This wasn’t about money, but about my freedom that I wanted back, but I had let Mitt stake his claim.
Mitt had made me get on my knees, and giving into him was his way of proving I was his. Not only was I upset with him but also with myself. I had allowed him to get to me and confirmed I’d do anything he wanted. I hated the power he held over me, but I couldn’t deny the control I had experienced with him. The way his dick pulsated in my mouth, and how I could make him squirm. All the noises coming from his delicious mouth until he came right where he wanted to. Straight in my mouth.
The recollection of stimulating my husband sent me into a feverish heat on my way to breakfast the next morning. An entire day had gone by after I had swallowed his come. I hated to admit that I had loved the taste of him, but I didn’t know if he’d enjoyed himself. He never came home from the office—he must’ve slept on the sofa. Mitt left me helplessly wondering if he had hated the oral sex I had given him. He certainly appeared to enjoy himself, but I had my doubts.
Should I even care?
No, absolutely not, but this was what Mitt did to me. He left me confused, vulnerable, and uncertain. All his hot and cold moments caused my head to spin. I hated the way he left me unbalanced but couldn’t deny how he made me questioneverything I had done until this point—the moment I was about to walk into the dining room and give him shit.
“How dare you?” I glared as I walked over toward Mitt, who was seated calmly in his chair. He had already started eating without me.
He chewed some bacon, swallowed, and peered up at me. “Me? You’re the one who is late to breakfast, Wife. I’m famished after all the energy you depleted me of yesterday.”
My cheeks blushed. “I’m not talking aboutthat.”
Mitt shrugged. “Then I have no idea what you could be referring to? You’ll have to be more specific.”
I held the screen of my phone up to his face. “I’m talking about this.”
“Oh, yes,that,” Mitt breathed as he took a sip of orange juice and held no remorse.
“How could you?” I questioned with anger.
“It happened in the heat of the moment, Tinsley,” Mitt explained without a flicker of regret. “You were sucking on my dick, and I was enjoying it.”
Mitt admitted what I had been unsure of. He loved my mouth wrapped around his cock. Enough to take a picture of the sensual act.
I flushed even brighter, but I pressed on. “So, you figured it was okay to go into my phone and take a picture of it? Why not take a picture on yours? That way, you could jerk off to the memory because I’ll never be doing it again.”
I spun around on my heels, fire boiling through me. Unable to believe the nerve of this man and how big his ego actually was. I couldn’t stand Mitt and needed to get away from him.
Mitt grabbed my wrist.
I gasped as he pulled me to him. I spun back around, and I fell onto his lap. The back of his hand brushed my cheek in an ever so gentle caress—enough to leave shivers running down tomy toes. He caused me to forget the reason I was hellbent on leaving the room, and I fell into the spell he cast from those magnificent hazel eyes—eyes of pure intensity as they swirled with passion and amusement all at the same time.
“Beau kept calling you,” Mitt admitted as he touched my lips, and his warm breath fanned my face. “So, I figured I’d send your ex a message.”
Stunned, I stared at Mitt, bewildered by his willingness to go to such great lengths. He had texted Beau. My husband had gone into my phone and sent my ex-boyfriend a clear message.
Stay away from me.
I couldn’t turn away even if I tried because the magnitude of his gaze turned into a stone-cold ice storm. The mention of my ex put him right on edge and the bitterness in his body language was clear. Mitt Morgan was envious and downright dangerous.
I asked through parted, trembling lips, “Why would you do that?”
“Because you belong to me, Tinsley...” Mitt answered without hesitation and took my hand. “And this ring proves it.”
The wedding band Mitt had bought for me twinkled against his handsome face as he gazed down at it and peered back up at me. His wife. Mitt’s eyes turned into a soft and sweet glimmer. He made me feel as if I was his everything.
“You didn’t have to confront Beau like that.” I sighed and turned my head away.
Mitt grabbed my chin, turning me to lock eyes with him. “I’d do anything for you, angel.”
