Page 83 of Becoming His Mistress

She links her arm through mine and we press our shoulders together. “You’re going to be amazing, no matter where you go.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

He gives me butterflies in my stomach.

My arms are still aching from my first ever shooting range practice with Mario. It’s safe to say my aim is terrible but it did improve by the end of the day.

To say shooting guns gives you a massive rush is an understatement. I’m thrumming with the adrenaline I got from it. I love this feeling.

I’ve never felt so in control of myself, so exhilarated. I got nervous after the first loud bang and dropped to my knees, covering my ear guards with my hands. But Mario coaxed me out of it and I eventually got used to the noise. It was a gut reaction that we both ended up laughing about, but it made me feel like such a freak. Though if Mario thought so he never showed it.

He also let me count twelve seconds between each shot without getting frustrated.

“Well hello, I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Ezra says while grinning when I enter his office and click the lock.

“You have half an hour,” I tell him as I move to his chair, still buzzing with excitement.

“I do?”

“You do,” I whisper, turning his seat and standing between his knees.

His eyes look me up and down when I slowly start to pull up my skirt, showing him the tops of my stockings, and my lack of panties.

I kick off my heels and slide one foot and leg through the arm of his leather, spinning chair, and then maneuver the other one through as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his hard cock free. I love that I can do that for him just by entering the room. We can never get enough of each other.

He lifts my white, low V-cut top up and over my red-lace-clad breasts.

“I hope you didn’t wear this to go shooting with my dad, you’ll have given the poor man a heart attack.”

“Let’s not talk about your dad when I’m about to fuck you into oblivion.” I reach for the handle under the seat, pull it and it drops three inches, so my feet are on the floor as I straddle him.

I kiss him deep and slow as I raise my hips and guide his cock to my entrance.

“To oblivion, hmm?” he asks, smiling until I slowly sink onto him, taking as much of him as I can. His smile vanishes at this point only to be replaced with such an intense look of complete wonder and awe. “Nobody has ever felt like you.”

I rock my hips, kissing his neck and biting his ear as his hands explore and rub every inch of my body that he can reach.

I don’t take my time because we don’t have time. I fuck him faster than I ever have, feeling it build in my womb.

We come, me first and then him, as always. He always waits until I’m done before he lets himself get there. One of the many things I adore about him.

I look at him after crying out my number and then his and kiss his lips gently.

“Every day I try to find excuses to come and see you,” I whisper, kissing his jaw as he still pulses inside of me and I throb around him. He starts to soften, the weirdest feeling. “Every night it’s torture.”

“You love me,” he murmurs, grinning like the happiest man in the world. “Just say it.”

“I can’t. I won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because when I say it, it means I feel it, and if I feel it, who will be strong enough to walk away?”

He taps the end of my nose with his tongue. “Then don’t walk away.”

I stand and climb from him, using every Kegel muscle I have, to stop leaking his seed everywhere. I enter the bathroom and we start our ritual of cleaning ourselves up, side by side, no embarrassment, just tender looks and touches.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asks, looking wary when I don’t hold his eyes for more than a few seconds following that conversation.

“I’m going to Seattle this weekend,” I state, pulling on my top and checking my hair in the mirror.

“What? Why?”

While clicking my fingers, I slip my shoes back on, smiling when he crouches down to help me wriggle my feet in. He kisses my thigh, stands, and wraps his arms around mine, stopping me from acting out my little quirks. “You’re nervous. What’s in Seattle?”

“A job interview,” I answer, and he freezes, his eyes, his body, his lips, everything falls and then freezes.

“Why do you need a job interview in Seattle?”

I try to pull away, but he holds me tighter. “I gave up my apartment yesterday morning.”

“So, get a new one. I’ll help you. I know the owners of some of the best apartment complexes in the city.”

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