My Mistress's Eyes Novels & Stories

pulling me in, her eyes glowing brighter. As our war of tongues continues I place my hardened length at her entrance, she wraps her legs around my waist and doesn’t wait for me to enter on my own doing, she slams herself onto my cock using a sensational amount of strength from her legs. Her arms are round my neck and I feel like I’m locked in paradise. Her wet, juicy walls now victoriously sliding up and down my shaft, my arms cupping her breast and her arms pulling her as close to me as she can get. I stand up still holding her breast as her legs are bouncing her up and down my length, I pull my mouth apart from her as I pant for breath, I notice we’re floating again but I couldn’t care le

[Maisie, want to come overseas and start a business with me? Ezekiel's love had healed me for just a fleeting moment. However, Ophelia's friendship reminded me that saving myself could take me much farther and last much longer.

“Now ride him. His face. While he’s still soaked.” Liane dropped, mounted Gabriel’s face, and cried out as his tongue found her again. Mistress sat back on the throne and spread her legs. “All of you. Watch me cum.” They did. Her fingers circled her clit, slow, precise. She watched Liane tremble, watched Eren sag, watched Gabriel give every last bit of himself. Then Mistress threw her head back and moaned — low, guttural, victorious. Her orgasm rolled through the room like thunder.

“Send for Dennise.” She arrives without ceremony, which means I trained her correctly. Black on black, silk that drinks lamps, leather that forgives movement, hair a river down her back. The violet in her eyes has deepened since her waking; it catches candlelight like the inside of an amethyst. She bows, not low, not humbled. A recognition of rank, not a mistake of identity. “Mistress.” I turn the dossier toward her. “You will end this house of cats in seven nights.”

I see the hunger in all their eyes, but I will trust her because she has yet to lie to me. The dishes being pulled away draws my attention, and my Mistress taps her leg. I stand up and sit on her lap, but she doesn’t want me sideways; she wants me to face her guests. I look at everyone and then look at her. “Mistress...” “What did I say about being a good girl?” She lifts her brow at me. My eyes go to the pendant that rests between her breasts, breasts that I have had in my mouth in order to please her. I lick my lips, because of the candy I know is inside the necklace. She shakes her head no, though.

I turned off the shower but I still couldn't get his scent off me. Wrapping myself in a robe, I went to my closet to pick an outfit for my interview tomorrow. I didn't want to be late. I needed this job. I ended up chosing a deep blue straight gown and a pair of red heels. I laid in bed and wrapped myself in blankets trying to sleep but I couldn't. Everytime I closed my eyes I was met the same set gold eyes. Haunting me and pulling me away from sleep. By the time it was 6am in the morning, I had gotten little to no sleep and my eyes were dull.

His eyes burned balls of hatred. Chris cried softly as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t believe what had become of him. He was nice. He was so nice to her. He treated her like a delicate flower… and the love he had for her in his eyes… was beautiful. Alas, all she could now see in those silver eyes was hatred. “You have no rights, Christina. None.” “You lost the right to touch me the day you walked out on me.” He gritted out. She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his.

When the door barged open, I wiped off the tears quickly from my eyes, hating to have anyone see me in that broken state. I forced out a rough smile, expecting to see the maid, June, but lo and behold, it was the wicked witch, his mistress; Ophelia. My smile fell off my face, dread replacing whatever positive feeling I’d tried feigning. Her raven black hair glistened under the bright lighting of the room and her blood-red lips parted into a wickedly beautiful smile, cat eyes gleaming.

Hearing this, I glanced at my reflection in a nearby store window and froze. My makeup was now a total disaster, mascara streaking down my cheeks. My hair was also a tangled mess from all the running. I had no idea how Graham managed to recognize me in my current state. I barely even recognized myself. I took the tissue and hastily wiped my face, trying to fix the damage. Then, feeling embarrassed, I muttered a quiet thank-you. Graham didn't respond. Instead, he reached out and gently smoothed my messy hair with his warm hand. I instinctively stepped back to put some distance between us, but he moved forward again, effectively closing the gap once more.

I’ve seen their eyes change to that weird colour once when there was blood and I assumed that they’d be sensitive to the smell. My feet moved automatically keeping up with the group as they made their way through the house, the Mistress narrating on her way through the massive halls. She stopped pointing to a picture that hung on the wall, taking about her country smiling like a Cheshire cat. I sneered and her head whipped in the direction of my voice, her eyes narrowing on me. I stood still needing to pull my cap down further into my face. She stared for a second, trying to hide the obvious irritation that I had caused her, but I meant it. If her country meant hat much to her then she neede