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A Rich Man's Lover

This is a story about an open-relationship between an unwilling prostitute and a married man. He was in an open marriage, but she's not the wife. To be one of the many partners of a man committed to another woman was her role. She wanted to hide her feelings that were starting to grow, her longing to be by his side, and lastly herself, by virtue of an open relationship. However, it was all for naught. When everything came to light, she desired to end the relationship they had. Her last words echoed through his mind as she bid him farewell through her mournful eyes. "If only I hadn't met you, I wouldn't be hurting this badly."

mrmrcia · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
203 Chs

January 24, 2021: Mujou

Tristan was about to button up his black shirt when a soft whimper made its way into his ears. He quickly made his way to the bedroom and was welcomed with the scene of a woman stirring in her slumber. The man went straight to her side of the bed to check if she's awake.

Once he was seated at the edge of the mattress, Tristan observed as her eyelids sluggishly revealed her aberrant pupils. The awe that he felt when he sighted such beautiful colours was even greater than the first instance he got a glimpse of it, now that he had his attention focused on them.

"Good morning, and sorry. Was I too noisy?" Tristan said, latterly giving Syn a brief kiss on her forehead.

Save for when she's confined in a hospital, the young lady was not accustomed to seeing somebody greet her first thing in the morning. Throughout the six years that she had spent living in the city, the lady had not invited a single person into her apartment unit.

Furthermore, whenever she's out with a client, Syn would, without fail, bailout as soon as the deed was over. Thus, her reply to Tristan came in a tad tardy, since she first tried to recall the events that lead her to her present situation.

"Hmm... no?"

That answer of hers came off more as a groan rather than a word.

"You can go back to sleep. It's only a quarter past six."

This time, Syn cleared her throat, which was quite dry, ahead of speaking, "I'll be seeing you off."

"Are you sure? We were up until the wee hours of the morning. You're sleep-deprived."

"It's fine."

"Really?"

"Really."

Finality was apparent in her voice, leaving Tristan the sole option of consenting, though partially.

"Well, return to your sleep once I leave. Are you going outside? It's Sunday today."

"Yes, work."

"What time are you going to be home?"

"Around ten in the evening, I think? And you?" Syn said as she rubbed her eyes. 

"I'm not certain yet. I'll text you. Do you have any breaks in your schedule?"

"None."

Tristan, with a look of slight dismay, stared at Syn's eyes and held it for a few seconds.

"I'm seriously contemplating on revising the terms of our contract this instant. I'm glad that you recovered quickly despite the ordeal you went through yesterday, but you're too diligent. I offered to pay for your debt in full. There's no need for you to work."

Syn clasped his right hand with hers, reconveying the same compassion that she was receiving through their gazes.

"The reason I was able to recover quickly was that you stayed by my side the whole time. Also, we talked about this topic last night. I will only take what I can repay from you. That much is enough."

"It's not like I'm asking you to repay me. Why are you so stubborn?" Tristan then lifted her hand and caressed it with kisses.

He had an abrupt urge to do it in case of offending Syn with his intrusiveness. It was unnecessary, to say the least, for the woman did not take indignity in his statements.

"I want to pay the debt with my hard-earned money to feel fulfilment. I know that's rich coming from someone working in a vice industry. It's stupid of me."

All of a sudden, Tristan mounted the bed and pinned Syn's arms down. He planted his legs on both sides of her body. He engaged the lady in a moment of exchange with just their eyes until he broke the silence.

"Pray tell, what should I do to make you rely on me?"

"I wonder?" She tauntingly said, snaking her arms around his neck.

'It won't come to fruition anyway.'

Tristan was effectively roped in by Syn's provocation, immediately claiming the woman's lips that were still a bit swollen from their earlier show of carnality. She responded by closing her eyes right away to indulge in the arousing sensation.

It was a kiss that did not wane in hunger, slow and sensual. Syn stuck her tongue out and Tristan happily sucked on it, twirling and intertwining. The man went on to bite her bottom lip as he repeatedly nibbled its plump flesh.

A moan escaped her mouth whenever their lips parted, begging them to be connected once more. Tristan readily complied and proceeded to trail kisses on her jawline amidst taking off the entirety of the blanket that was hugging her nudity.

He then aggressively scooped the back of her head, pulling it towards him to deepen their kiss. His other hand delicately caressed the inner side of her legs, purposefully avoiding her private part. The teasing made Syn utterly desperate for his touch.

"Tris... hhnn ...tan, please." She breathlessly voiced out, conscious that he was now snacking on her slender neck down to her voluptuous breast.

"What, babe? What do you want me to do? Tell me."

Tristan smiled through his teeth as he let it graze her rosy nipple.

He gently laid her head on the pillow to free his hand and shortly used it to knead one of her bosoms, making sure to pinch its tit, while he diligently chewed on the other.

"Don't... haaa haa make me, hnn say it."

Tristan ceased the foreplay in an instant to scrutinize Syn's reaction. He smirked thereon witnessing the deadpan face of the woman.

"I thought we're trying out a new play for you to exaggerate your reaction. I've forgotten that you should be ravished mindlessly for you to be aroused."

"So you've noticed?"

"It would take years of convincing for a dominant like you to submit. Am I co-"

Syn grabbed a handful of his hair and gave him a rather catatonic expression. Her eyes were ferocious, making his spine shiver out of excitement bordered with fear.

"That or the right amount, Mr O' Connor."

She raised her left foot and started rubbing his aching groin. A smirk crept up her lips when she felt his hard-on.

"Aren't you lively?"

She anchored herself with her vacant arm and pulled his head even nearer.

"You like that?" Syn whispered, completely bewitching Tristan, as she continued to massage his stiffness, harder and harder every stroke.

The feat earned a groan from Tristan who shut his eyes because of the fervent stimulation.

"Syn, you should... stop soon." His voice was raspy, out of better words to beg for his release.

"Hmm? Where are your manners?"

The woman forcibly yanked his head backward and started to make out with the man like a savage, nastily unrestrained, forbidding him to take a breather. They did not break eye contact throughout the kiss, which lasted a few seconds.

Syn decided to sink her teeth into the corner of his lips. However, Tristan did not wince out of the stinging pain but from the delight of having been bitten.

A tiny bruise, coloured Tyrian purple, marked the area where she bit him.

"What a masochist," Syn said while she marvelled at his thrilled countenance.

He was about to open his mouth when they both heard the doorbell rang. Tristan sighed, face sullen. 

"As much as I want to remain, I have to go to work."

"It's alright, though I'm sorry for that bruise. It's quite visible."

"Don't mind it."

Syn allowed the weight of her body to decline on the mattress languidly. Meanwhile, Tristan got off the bed and slipped Syn under the covers. Consequently, he fixed his attire, straightening and finally buttoning up his shirt.

"Call me when you leave the house, okay?"

The lady simply hummed her approval, somnolence beginning to attract her to sleep.

"Do you want me to get you some clothing?"

Tristan did not receive a reply from Syn anymore. He inspected her figure and perceived that she had long dozed off. The man bent down to give her another kiss on the forehead prior to exiting the room, briskly walking straight to the main entrance.

Directly after tapping on the monitor to see a live video of his visitor, he clicked the button that would unlock the door. Tristan was greeted with the presence of his chief secretary, Rocco Noack, who was still youthful despite being in his late 20's.

"Mr O' Connor, are you planning to make me wait for an hour inside a cramped vehicle? Likewise, the other executives are already in the office biding for your arrival. Please have some tact."

"I appreciate you scolding me this early in the day. Apologies, I got sidetracked."

"Of course, Ms Rosenfeldt is staying in here, no wonder you got sidetracked."

"Are you jealous?"

"Who would like your personality?" Rocco frankly gave Tristan a piece of his mind with a visage devoid of sympathy.

The boss, thankfully, was a veteran of catching his subordinates' bluntness. He just beamed to balance the mood, and because of that, he obtained the glaring of his intolerant secretary. The latter broke the silence, itching for a move-on.

"Please put your coat on and I'll procure your suitcase. Hurry towards the building's driveway. The car is on hazard there."

"Roger that."

"Oh, and before anything else, don't go around showing everyone that you had an intense make-out session. Patch that bruise." Rocco uttered, almost out of spite, before helping himself in the condominium unit. 

"Yes, Mr Noack."

They went on to their separate directions and met again at the lobby of the building. The two padded the carpeted floor, side-by-side, that would take them outside of the tower.

A stout jack stood by the front of a metallic black Bentley Mulsanne and held the rear passenger door open for Rocco and Tristan.

"Good Morning, Frank."

"Mornin' Sir."

There were no more conversations that ensued. It might have been caused by a sense of urgency. They comfortably settled themselves in their respective seats and left the driver to worry over the road.

"Rocco, any updates?" Tristan initiated the dialogue to inquire regarding some necessary information.

Rocco took out the work phone from his suit's side pocket and began to read the details to Tristan. 

"The faction that is attempting to oust the president from his post is gathering pieces of evidence of his supposed embezzlement. They are also urging the investigators to look up several savings and brokerage accounts they presumed to be under the president's ownership."

The secretary scrolled through the document first, trying to narrow the information. When he reached the part containing the most sensitive matter, he resumed.

"They also justified their reasoning by bringing their preconceived notion to light that the president is engaging in prostitution. They interviewed his previous partners. To no avail, they did not acquire the answers that they wanted. In addition to what I stated, the president's refusal to invest in the venture of fossil fuel excavation was met with criticisms."

"What else?"

"They are now spreading rumours of the president's perpetuated crimes to the board, urging them to have a vote for the reason that the CEO's reputation will plunge soon."

"Their ridiculousness knows no bounds. Mr Brecheisen owns 58% of the Eddinu Corporation's shares. The people on his side, on the other hand, hold 30% of the shares. His vote is the only one that matters."

"Agreed, that is why they're intruding on his private life as a method to shame him."

Unexpectedly, Tristan burst into a laughing fit, surprising Rocco.

"Are they dim-witted or what? That man doesn't recognize regret, much less shame. Those radicals are running around in circles. They look preposterous advocating for change when they are stuck with their venerable mentality."

Speechlessness hung in the air for a few seconds till Rocco spoke up.

"Can I ask you a question, Mr O' Connor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Complimenting what you said, the CEO's reign is wholly established and unshakeable, right? So why is there a need to call for an emergency meeting?"

Tristan crossed his legs and gazed out the tinted window. His response was something that Rocco did not expect.

"It's a contingency measure. If we don't spring into action, those poor people belonging in the faction will be deserted with nothing, not even sanity or life."