The Accidental Mistress Read Free Page B

been vain about her shape, and always ruefully admitted that even though she looked a bit like the 1950s glamour model Bettie Page, she didn’t have that goddess’s incredible figure. But seeing the reflection ofherself in John’s brilliant eyes, her self-esteem soared and she
loved
being in her own body.
    Slowly, and with a bit of a burlesque flourish, she let the thick, fluffy robe slide down her arms, then straightened her spine and set back her shoulders, to present herself to the eyes of her master.
    ‘Beautiful,’ said John softly, drawing in a deep breath, as if she were Venus rising from the waves, or even the great Bettie herself, reborn to her glory days. ‘Now touch your breasts. Put on a little show for me. Let me see how you pleasure yourself when I’m not around.’
    ‘Well, I don’t stand up to do it, and that’s a fact.’
    Oops, a slip-up. Insubordination. She could already imagine the impact of his hand, hot on her bottom. Retribution.
    John sighed, a gusty theatrical sound. ‘Did I say you can speak? No. And if I desire you to play with yourself while standing up, you play with yourself while standing up. Do you understand me?’
    Lizzie nodded, snagging her lower lip between her teeth as she braced herself up and went about her task.
    First, she cupped herself, cradling the slight weight of her breast and flicking at the nipple with her thumb. Just that small action made her gasp, sending a sharp silvery jolt of pleasure right from the tip of her breast to her aching clit. She couldn’t help but rock her hips, and she daren’t look at John, knowing he’d have seen the movement, as he saw everything.
    ‘Be careful. Be very careful. Now, pinch your nipple. Do it hard.’
    Swallowing, she obeyed, shocked by the pain, yet in the eternal paradox, also loving it. In all the brief time they’d spent together, she hadn’t completely figured out why shecould both dread and enjoy punishment. In normal logic, it didn’t make any sense, but in a beautiful chintz-clad bedroom at the Waverley Grange Hotel, it was exactly as it should be.
    She pinched harder, suppressing her gasp as her clit throbbed, almost as if that were being squeezed too. Maybe that was next?
    ‘Touch your pussy with your other hand. Rub and squeeze at the same time, caress your clit.’
    Again she obeyed, shocked at the wealth of slippery, silky fluid between her sex lips. As she stroked her clitoris lightly, she held her breath. She was incredibly close. As a woman with a fairly average relationship with her orgasms – sometimes easy, sometimes not so much – it always astounded her that with John, they were always within reach. Sometimes, he only had to look at her and she was on the brink. If anybody had suggested that was possible before she’d met him, she’d have told them not to be so daft. But with him, strange miracles could happen.
    ‘No climax. Not yet. Not until I’ve spanked you.’ His wonder-smile was devilish, a wicked icon to her eyes. ‘But try and get as close as you can without orgasming. Go right to the edge.’
    You swine! You perverse swine!
    She railed at him inside, but she obeyed him, loving the perversity, loving the way he pushed her. Her clit trembled beneath her fingertip, and she tried to back off a bit, rub a bit to one side. Could he see what she was doing? She was often convinced he had X-ray vision, and that he could see every secret of her body, and sometimes even her heart.
    ‘You’re cheating, Lizzie,’ he said, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. The bathrobe he wore was thick and luxurious, but she could still see the prominence of hiserection. Its tantalising promise took her mind off her own problems. Soon … soon … she would have him again.
    ‘The game’s rigged.’
    ‘Tut tut … I never said you could speak. When I was in the army, we’d have called that insubordination, young lady.’
    Despite his instruction, her fingertip stilled, and her other hand dropped