The Ceo's Contracted Mistress
The Ceo’s Contracted Mistress Chapter 12

Bobbie considered she had not an ounce of common sense and Everly was a hundred percent correct. This man made her stupid. More than stupid. Because, as he sat going through every single photograph she’d ever taken of the kids, she was tucked up under his arm, resting against his bare chest as if they had not missed a day. Every notion he could have lied to her or was still lying to her had vanished into the deep recesses of her brain and as they shared the tumbler of his expensive bourbon, she knew she couldn’t blame the alcohol for what she was feeling.

It was all him. Well, all him and her reaction to him. For whatever reasons he had of his own, he appeared quite capable of forgetting the past or how they had been at the end of their relationship when she had left, and most importantly how they had spent nearly nine years hating each other. He was, for all outward appearances, completely at ease with her. He was asking questions about the photos, laughing at some of the stories, growing quiet at others but never removing his arm from around her shoulder where he hugged her to his side.

They were now on year six of photos, it was after midnight and as tired as her eyes felt, she didn’t want to sleep. He was making small circles with his thumb on her bicep, and she felt her eyelids pulling down as he quietly flipped through photos of the family on a camping trip.

He had paused at a photo of her, Max and Ollie posing for the camera. The three of them were making funny faces for the camera, the kids totally hamming it up. Max on one leg and Ollie leaning off a tree stump at Bobbie. They appeared dirty, unkempt, and unruly and thoroughly happy.

“They look so happy,” he whispered.

“They’re happy kids,” she agreed quietly.

“They’re beautiful,” holding the tumbler of bourbon in his hand he pointed a finger and traced Max’s face. “So beautiful. I know you say they look like me, but I see you in them. So much of you.”

“Really?” she tilted her head to look at them, “where?”

“Ollie has your build, your legs. She also has your nose. The smiles and eyes are mine, dimples too, but she has your nose. Max, it’s his facial expressions. Where he looks like me, the dirty looks I’ve seen him shoot in several of these photos are all you.”

She couldn’t even deny it. “Last year his teacher told me half the reason Ollie was getting into fist fights was because Max gives dirty looks when another kid says what he feels is stupid. He has no problem correcting anyone either which is the other half of the problem. He’s a bit of a know-it-all. Kids mouth off at him or get aggressive with him because of his inability to not roll his eyes and then Ollie is defending him.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have to suffer fools,” Olivier made a face.

“He could be a bit more diplomatic than telling his rival in the science fair his replaceings were flawed and while pointing out the error in front of judges.”

Olivier shrugged as if the behaviour were appropriate, and Bobbie could tell he was smugly proud of the child. She pushed him, “don’t think I don’t see the look.”

“Our boy is smart, and I love he has the confidence in his knowledge to correct when there are errors,” he squeezed her to his chest. “Diplomacy is for chumps.”

She nudged him, “not funny. Speaking of diplomacy, he was upset last night I was talking to a man on the phone. Keep it in mind he’s been the only man in my life for a long time. He may have trouble sharing.”

“I will remember,” He paused on a photo of her sleeping in a hammock with both kids cuddled up on her. “Who took this?”

“Everly, she found us like this one afternoon at home,” she smiled, “I have this one framed.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I think so too,” she yawned, “I’m exhausted.”

“Go to sleep,” he kissed the top of her head.

She was surprised by his words and evidently, her silence spoke volumes.

“I’ll wake you,” his voice was teasing. “I seem to recall exactly how you love to be woken up. It involves,” he chuckled against the palm of her hand she put to his mouth, his eyes dancing with merriment at her discomfort. “Chérie, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve become a prude.”

“Not a prude,” she grunted as she rolled away from him to her side and snuggled into a pillow. She shivered when he pushed her hair off her neck and kissed her neck.

“Goodnight, chérie,” he whispered against her ear.

“Goodnight, Olivier,” she whispered as she rolled onto her belly, tucking her hand under her pillow. The feel of Olivier’s hand rubbing her back gently lulling her to sleep far quicker than she had expected.

She was unsure of the time when she woke next, fully encapsulated in strong arms wrapped around her and a leg thrown over her h*p. The gentle warmth of heavy breathing behind her told her he was fast asleep holding her. She wondered what time it was, and she grimaced as she noted her phone buzzing on the nightstand. It was what had woken her she decided, and she reached for it.

A text from Everly. “Where the hell are you?”

“Baby daddy’s room.”

“Really? Are you stupid?”

“Unequivocally and without any doubt. Kids okay?”

“Yes, I went to your room to get nail polish remover and you weren’t there.”

“When?”

“Just now. Half an hour ago, I didn’t notice Max had left the cap off the green polish and I got up to go to the bathroom and kicked the whole thing on the floor. Definitely getting a cleaning charge from the hotel. Used all my remover and yours. Won’t come off the carpet and I spread it everywhere.”

Olivier’s voice was raspy as he looked over her shoulder, “tell her you’re sleeping with the owner of the hotel and damages caused by his kid are covered and go back to sleep.”

She giggled at his comment and sent it exactly back to Everly who sent her back an eggplant emoji and a winky face. She snuggled back into the pillow and heard him chuckle. “What?”

“Baby daddy,” he bit out a laugh as he pulled her until she was rolled facing him. “Come here, silly woman.”

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she whispered as he tucked her onto his bicep and curled her into him.

“You didn’t. Everly did texting you at three in the morning. I’ll take it up with her tomorrow.”

“I’m sure she’ll love that. Grady’s the lawyer but the only reason she married him was to have someone to argue with.”

“Shh,” he put his hands against her lips. “You talk too much. Go to sleep.”

She lay there listening to his breath even out. She was wide awake now and she stretched her fingers across his bare abdomen to hug him back. Why did it all just feel too familiar and right? Nine years ago, she had loved him desperately and had been too terrified to tell him. Then she’d hated him. Yet, as if there had been no time to have passed since the last time, he’d held her while she slept, she felt comfortable in his arms. His leg was heavy over her thigh and his heartbeat was a steady rhythm near her cheek. She hadn’t slept with a man since him.

“Bobbie, I can hear you thinking. If you don’t go to sleep, I’m going to give you a reason to be awake.”

She squeezed her eyes tight and held her breath as his arms pulled her closer to him and she could feel the very real hardness of his length pressing against her. He was wearing boxers which weren’t holding anything back. He was as wide awake as she was apparently and evidently as aware of her in his bed as she was being in it.

He g*****d as she adjusted beside him, and she grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Just stay still,” he gripped her h*p still, his voice pained as he struggled to control his reaction to her.

Bobbie couldn’t help it, she giggled at the tone of his voice and the desperation at which he was trying to get his e******n under control.

“Care to share what is so funny, chérie?”

“I think I’m overtired, and everything is funny,” she giggled louder now. He tickled her ribs playfully and rolled onto his back, pulling her atop him. She rested her cheek to his shoulder, her face tucked into his neck.

“God, I had forgotten how perfect you fit to me,” he sighed deeply as he caressed her back in long sweeps, sliding his fingers under the hem of the t-shirt to touch her bare skin.

She shivered against the immediate onslaught of emotion and desire from the feel of his fingers against her flesh. His fingers splayed now on her skin massaging her gently. Too many years between them and yet as she lay against his warm body, she found herself wishing they were both without the barrier of their clothes and their thoughts.

“Bobbie,” he whispered as she shuddered on him again, “I’m trying ridiculously hard to give you a bit of time to process what is happening but if you keep grinding on me like this, we’ll both be naked in seconds.”

His words made her pause and then she lifted her face to look at him, her blue eyes replaceings his dark ones in the dimly lit room. She took a breath, “I do have five nights I need to knock off the books.”

He cursed in French and flipped her on her back. “Are you sure?”

“We’re wide awake. I mean,” she gripped his shoulders over her. “It’s been a while for me. I may as well make the best of a situation. Taking opportunities when presented and all that.”

“Define a while,” he lifted an eyebrow as his hands were already disposing of her t-shirt.

“Almost nine years,” she admitted not breaking away from his gaze.

He looked to the ceiling as if he were praying and then looked back to her after a long exhale, “nobody has touched you like this since the last time we were together?”

“No.” She made a face.

“No? What was the face?”

“It’s part of the reason Max doesn’t like the notion of me talking to men. I went on a date. It didn’t go well. A guy tried to touch, and he got a few unwelcome gropes in when he tried to force himself into my house. Grady was jogging by and heard me screaming. He beat him to a pulp.”

He was quiet for a moment, “remind me to personally thank Grady.”

“I made him cookies. We’re even.” She chuckled as Olivier tossed his briefs across the room, the hard length of his semi-erect c**k pressed against her middle. “Can we talk about something other than Grady though? It’s making me dry up.”

He laughed loudly at her comment. “Really?”

“Could you think of your sisters when having s*x?”

His shudder told her what she needed to know.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew her down to him. “Olivier, I want you. I’d be lying to say I didn’t. I’m done talking. I’m done pretending I’m not still attracted to you after all this time. Please?”

His lips claimed her hungrily, his tongue immediately deep into her mouth, twisting around hers. His nose brushed against hers as he turned his mouth from side to side sweeping his lips along hers, demanding she k**s him back with equal fervor. She didn’t back away from it and opted to dive in headfirst. He tasted of bourbon and sleep and if she honest, better than she ever remembered.

Making him a villain in her mind had been too easy for her. An easy way to cope with the pain of his upcoming and expected rejection when their contract had ended, she had quickly believed the story the couple had concocted in their hotel room. Yet, as she lay here, under him, with his hands warm and demanding on her body, his mouth kissing her as if he never wanted to stop, she remembered his words from earlier. If she had really considered the things, she had known of him in the short time they were together, she should have known better.

Even now, as he expertly navigated her body as if he hadn’t missed a day, replaceing the sensitive areas he’d once mastered effortlessly, she knew he’d paid exquisite attention to her back then. He moved his body half off her, his lips leaving hers to trail hot, wet k****s along her jaw, down her neck to where his palms lifted her full breasts. His thumbs stroked her n*****s, the dusky rose color darkening as he tormented them with his fingers. He slid his tongue along the protruding bud of the mound nearest his mouth and she arched her back to him, her fingers sliding into his hair.

“Olivier,” she whimpered when he suckled deeply on her. Her hands clutched him to her as his tongue swirled around the pebbled flesh. He pressed her breasts together and his mouth paid equal homage to both handfuls sliding back and forth from left to right as he feasted on her sensitive peaks.

Then he was on the move again, his mouth lowering through the deep recess of her cleavage along her navel, pausing to plant soft k****s, as light as butterflies dancing in the wind along her abdominal scar. His words were muffled as he gave a lingering k**s to the white mark and though she didn’t understand verbally what he said through his whispered mumbling, the emotion of his voice clearly told her he was paying reverence to her body for what it had gone through.

He moved lower still slipping between her thighs and she g*****d loudly when his lips passed along the inside of her groin, the roughness of his unshaven jaw tickling the inside of her thigh. “Oh god,” she whispered as realization of what he was going to do hit her. It had been too long and as she considered, she had long stopped shaving and trimming the area other than what could be visible from her bathing suit, she panicked and reached for him. “Olivier, there’s no need. I just want –”

“There is great need,” he pressed another k**s to her inguinal area. He captured her protesting hands and pinned them at her stomach as he continued his exploration. He looked up with wicked intent to meet her gaze, “I love this natural look. Don’t change this.” He nuzzled against her core, and she bucked against the immediate intrusion of his tongue to her slit. His tongue was flattened against the mound of her as he inhaled the scent of her. “So wet for me,” he whispered. “Always so wet for me.” He appeared lost in a memory as he began to meticulously devour her.

His lips, tongue and teeth working in perfect rhythm to guarantee her an o****m and she could feel it building low in her pelvis as his thumb found her c******s while he continues to greedily drink the juices weeping from her body. It was as if he knew she was climbing the twisting vines to her o****m, and he chased her along.

His hand which held hers tight to her middle released her wrists and moved to plunge into her, joining his tongue and thumb, curving just at the right spot, remembering with ease the location of her most sensitive internal spot. With a few firm strokes, she felt the dizzying fall from the heights of her pleasure as she was sucked down deep into the chasm of her o****m. His name was a hoarse cry on her lips as she twisted and turned under his unyielding touch. Only after she was panting hard, clearly surfacing from the intensity of his manipulation of her body, did he withdraw his fingers and lips to slide back up her body.

She whimpered into the pillow, but he gripped her chin. “Look at me, chérie. I need you to watch me as I fill you up.”

It had always been this way. A man bent on possessing her body and making sure she was very aware of what he was doing, he’d made her keep eye contact every time he slipped into her. This time, even after all the years had gone by, was no different.

She flicked a glance down to his now rigid and erect c**k, proudly risen between her legs, pre-cum glistening on the tip. His head red and swollen as Olivier’s fingers massaged and manipulated his member trailing it through her dampened curls at the apex of her thighs. She felt she couldn’t look away from where he was about to penetrate but his curt command again to look at him made her meet his gaze hungrily.

“I want to see your eyes when I fill you.” He repeated his demands.

As he gently pushed past her folds she held his gaze, swallowing hard against the emotion and the raw need she saw there. There was no doubt in her mind, the only thing he was focused on in the moment was her, only her. The world could collapse around them and all he thought of, in this second, was her, under him, her calves wrapping around his h**s and their bodies joining at the middle.

She lifted her h**s to his when he filled her completely and she sighed. It was as if she were home. Where she belonged. He was deep inside, stock still as if afraid to move and they stared at each other, wordlessly as his c**k twitched inside her. She gasped slightly at the movement and then he smiled, the wicked dirty smile he always had given her in the past when he was ready to take her to heaven.

His hands moved along her thighs to slide up her body, one had resting on her h*p the other cupping a breast and he began to move. Slowly he pulled backward, and she sighed with the movement knowing exactly what was coming next. He slammed into her, filling her to the brim quickly, brutally and with full force.

It was how she’d loved it back then. To be taken. To be possessed and owned. He’d f****d her mercilessly a hundred different times. His strong hands were holding her exactly where he wanted her as he ruthlessly thrust into her repeatedly. She screamed his name loudly, her gasps and m***s echoing around them. Flesh slapping flesh, wet squelching noises filling their ears and the raucous hammering of the headboard against the wall behind her speaking to the ferocity of his lovemaking.

She came undone. Fast, effortlessly, he brought her to o****m again, and she twisted wildly under him as he gripped her legs unrelenting. When she stopped writhing, he pulled out from her and flipped her exhausted body over, pulling her up on all fours.

Kneeling behind her, his strong thighs on either side of her quivering ones, he spoke resolutely into the darkness of the room, “My turn now, chérie. I’m going to c*m hard but you’re going to c*m with me.”

A light slap to her a*s made her shiver in anticipation as she felt his c**k nudging her entrance from behind. She pulled the pillow to her face to scream into it when he pushed hard into her. His thumb circled her anus as he plowed her and when she screamed into the pillow, he ripped it away tossing it to the floor.

“Scream for me, Bobbie. I love hearing you scream for me.”

“f**k me Olivier. Don’t stop,” she begged as his h**s slapped against her a*s.

He was ruining her again. At one time she had allowed herself to talk dirty, be depraved and naughty because she was his w***e. It had given her the excuse to live out all her sordid fantasies. No need to be the good girl when she was being paid to be bad, she had lived every single thrilling desire she had through him, and he’d entertained every one of her wishes. He had taught her to never hide from what he wanted to give her. His lessons were coming back to her with gusto.

Now, here, in his bed, while his hard body was railing into her, his thumb poking into her bottom and his other hand occasionally slapping her a*s, she was right back where she’d been. His dirty girl doing all the wonderful, naughty things he loved to do to her, and her body was soaking it up, craving it more and more.

His tempo quickened and his hands moved to grip her h**s with both hands, f*****g her hard and fast. She knew he was close, and she slipped a finger down to her c******s to bring her closer than she already was. The headboard slammed, the bed was creaking and squeaking. She was screaming at the top of her lungs and his shouts were likely heard in the lobby of the hotel. She felt his hand snake around under her to pinch a n****e tightly and with the one touch, she came undone. She came hard and mere seconds after the hot sensation of his c*m filling her took over as he rocked his way through his o****m. Her name was shouted loudly into the room and when he collapsed on top of her, pinning her underneath his heavy frame, she stifled a sob.

“Crying, chérie?” he laughed as he nuzzled her neck.

She whimpered into the mattress and then said the one word she knew he wanted to hear. “More.”