His Forbidden Mistress: Veil of Deception

"Please..."

I was gasping, my voice catching in my throat as I looked at David lustfully.

Every part of me was screaming for more.

"Faster..." I whispered, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a desperate plea.

I was begging but David immediately clamped his hand over my mouth.

His palm was warm, smelling faintly of expensive cologne and the scotch he'd been drinking earlier. He leaned in close, his eyes dark and intense, pinning me against the cold, hard wood of the wall.

"Shh," he hissed.

"Don't be too loud. My wife will hear us."

I closed my eyes tight.

I did the only thing I could-I curled my toes against the carpet, my nails digging into his shoulders.

I tried to suppress the urge to scream. Every time he thrust, I felt the friction of his long cock, the overwhelming sensation of him inside me.

It was too much. I was losing my mind!

Then, the sound we both feared echoed through the house.

"Honey? Are you almost done in there?"

It was Cyndrel.

She was just downstairs, probably finishing up dinner, completely unaware that her husband was fucking his mistress in his study.

My eyes flew open, and I looked at David with pure panic.

My eyes pleaded with him, silently begging him to finish this before we were caught.

He increased the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent. He was relentless, his movements powerful as he drove us both toward our climax.

I buried my face in his neck to muffle my cries.

I could feel the tension building, a coil tightening in my chest until it finally snapped.

We both hit that peak at the same time that left me shaking and weak in the knees. I let out a long, shaky breath against his skin, my body slumped against his chest as the adrenaline began to fade.

"Fix yourself," he whispered, his voice returning to its professional, detached tone.

I scrambled to compose myself.

My hands were shaking so badly I could barely straighten my skirt or button my blouse.

I forced myself to sit down in one of the guest chairs across from his desk. I smoothed my clothes over my lap, trying to slow my racing heart.

Across from me, David sat in his large leather swivel chair. He adjusted his tie, smoothed his hair, and opened a folder on his desk like nothing had happened.

The door creaked open. Cyndrel walked in, a wide, genuine smile on her face. She looked so beautiful.

"Oh, it looks like you two are still in the middle of a meeting," she said, looking from David to me.

I forced a nod, my neck feeling stiff.

"Yes, Sir... was just finishing up the quarterly projections," I said.

"Well, don't let me interrupt the hard work," she chirped, walking over to David and placing a hand on his shoulder. She kissed his cheek.

He placed his hand over her and smiled. For some