The Accidental Mistress by Sienna Mynx Page B

in
unison, thrusting. His cock plunged into her. His balls hit her
dripping cunt with a loud wet smack. She shook her ass and he
slipped in even further. Christophe drilled into her repeatedly;
the mirror began smacking back into the wall, her reflection and
his shimmering before them. They never broke eye contact. Never.
They breathed in sync, moved as one. He folded over her and reached
his hand beneath to squeeze her clit. She came. As her reward, he
throttled her beaten sex, again and again and again....
    Zuri shuddered. Her palms now sweaty, slid
across the dresser. Christophe had to catch her under the waist to
keep her from going flat the surface. His thickly veined cock
stretched her deliciously. He worked his dick in and out in such a
frenzy the friction sparked a tidal wave of emotion and she crashed
gloriously.
     
    Zuri shot up in bed. She looked around in a
panic. Sweat covered her face and chest; her robe had come open to
reveal droplets trickling down between her breasts. She looked down
at herself. Her body was still aflame, her pussy mostly. She
swallowed a deep breath and tried to regulate her breathing.
Darkness engulfed her. It took several torturous minutes to realize
it had been a dream. She scrambled out of bed dragging the bed
sheets out of its neat folds and tucks and realized she had fallen
asleep in his room. Even if it wasn't a dream, she needed to
escape. As she turned for the bedroom door she heard the suite door
open. Someone had entered. In her panic, Zuri bolted. She chose the
closet, closing its double doors gently. The shutters gave her a
view of the room. Her quick thinking saved her a world of
embarrassment. It was Christophe Montague.
    He walked inside with his luggage. He
dropped his bag and stared at the bed. Was he frowning? She could
barely see his face. Zuri covered her mouth. She had rumpled the
sheets. Damn it! She wanted everything neat and tidy. Now he
believed the room was un-kept.
    Zuri grimaced when he went to the phone on
the nightstand and called downstairs. He requested someone come up
immediately and tend to his bed. His voice, sharp and heavy with
frustration, wouldn't bode well for any plans she had to charm him.
The dream still had her heart racing. In her dream, he saw through
her plan and fucked her anyway. He called her a whore, and then
fucked her like one. Her dream was a warning. She would need to
play this smart.
    Christophe stormed out of the room and Zuri
stepped back into the wall of the closet. She slid down. It was
only a dream, so why was she tingling with need for more?
    ***
    Christophe poured a glass of scotch. The bar
was stocked with Johnny Walker, blue and black label. It was an
improvement to the state he found his bed in when he arrived. He
sipped his scotch as the maid tidied up. He had read a little on
the Oasis, and its sister hotel, The Lagoon, during his flight. He
expected a little more polishing. But in fairness, he was early,
and they may have been overbooked.
    Either way, he decided not to judge them
just yet.
    " Monsieur , everything is in order,"
the maid announced, returning with her arms full of bed sheets. She
pushed them in her cart. He walked over and gave her a tip then
bade her goodnight.
    Christophe was wiped. All he wanted was a
shower and bed. He walked over to the drink he half finished and
tossed back the final shot. It would lull him to sleep. Strolling
into the bedroom, he shed his suit jacket.
    ***
    Zuri heard movement. She
crawled over to the closet door and peeked. On her hands and knees
she pushed her eye to the slotted opening. Christophe peeled off
his shirt. Zuri couldn't tear her eyes away. She didn't want to
look anywhere else; the sight of his fabulous body transfixed her.
With each discarded item his male perfection unveiled. Mon Dieu! He had taken
well care of himself over the years. He was broad shouldered and
athletically built. There were strong powerful cuts of muscles to
his back. When he turned she found the