A Most Unusual Mistress

Erotic romance author Raven McAllan is here today talking about her new release A Most Unusual Mistress.

Be warned, it gets steamy!

Buy now from Breathless Press

Why be a wife if a mistress has more fun? All Adriana has to do is get Ashley to agree.

Finding her intended bollocks-deep in his mistress, when she was trembling with wanting, did not impress Adriana. If being a mistress entailed being part of such passion, then a mistress only she would be.

Ashley. Earl of Addersley thought otherwise. He wanted a wife on his terms. He wanted a wife on his terms. Terms that would send this lady of the ton screaming, or would they?

He leant toward her. “Later, my love, I will introduce you to a much better way of tasting champagne. For now I suggest you sip it. Slowly.” For Adriana was gurgling and choking on her first sip. He patted her solicitously on her back. “Oh dear, did it go down the wrong way? ‘Tis bad when something does that.” He paused. “One needs to learn the correct way for anything to slide down your throat.”

Her face reddened, but she held her peace. How, he knew not, for he could tell she had a ready retort. He let his hand slide slowly down her spine, feeling the shiver she gave as he did so.

Suddenly, he could not wait until that part of the evening ended. For the sooner he escorted her home, the sooner he could join her and begin her slow sensuous introduction to seduction. She might say she wished to be his mistress, but Ashley had no doubt she would soon balk at some of his more extreme preferences. However, until he reached her refusals, he intended to enjoy all she was prepared to offer him. He was sure she would not be over- accepting of his demands, and once her limit was reached, her agreement to their marriage reinstated, and the ceremony over; he would return to the kind, considerate, and respecting husband a wife should receive. His more extreme proclivities would remain shrouded until such time he needed to unleash them. Then he would do so in the body of someone other than his wife. Someone who would accept and receive his ministrations without expecting either heart to be involved. He could not subject Adriana to his dark side. Well, he pondered, not all of it.

He realized his companions were looking at him quizzically. He essayed a smile. “Your pardon. I was wool gathering.”

“Wishing you were elsewhere?” Adriana asked archly.

“Wishing we were elsewhere,” he corrected.

“Well, that is easily achieved.” Adriana stood and shook out her skirts. “I am ready to leave.” She laughingly made her farewell to their companions, ignoring their knowing looks, and paused for Ashley to do likewise before moving toward the cloakroom.

He slipped her cloak around her shoulders as they awaited the arrival of her carriage. He accepted that his body was on a knife-edge. Strung out with all his senses heightened, it almost seemed he could feel her heart beat in time with his, their blood swirling around their bodies and their breathing as one. Fanciful, but very stimulating. As the carriage pulled up in front of them, he was punctilious in his manner, guiding her inside and helping her be seated to her satisfaction. How long had he to begin his campaign? Scant minutes, unfortunately, but enough for the initial skirmish. He waited until the carriage had begun to lurch over the cobbles, setting up that familiar thrum in his rod, before lifting her onto his lap, making sure her skirts were not trapped between them. His now-rigid tool, which he had swiftly released from its confines, rubbed deliciously along that warm enveloping hollow between her cheeks. Her gasp reverberated into the very area of his body that strained to feel more than the echoes of movement that a mere gasp elicited.

“Soon, my cock will be more than just rubbing your arse,” he said crudely into her ear, as he brought one hand to her clit and squeezed it firmly, eliciting another hiss of breath. “I will have it buried bollocks deep inside it, my balls on your mound and my dildo in your cunt. You will know not which is pleasure or pain, so great will be the depth of ecstasy you experience. As I come and fill you with my seed, you will cry out your completion and shudder around me as I shudder in you.”

She was silent. Had he gone too far? For in truth, he had not measured his words and had spoken from his soul.

“And I, my lord? What will I do in return?” Her voice was breathy, the arousal unmistakable.

“You, my love, will enjoy. For I will have you spread-eagled, tied, and captive, to receive all I choose for you to partake. Until we are both sated.” Gad, the picture he was painting was painful. All he wanted to do now was pick up his brush and begin to paint. Her. Over and over until he was satisfied his vision had nothing comparable. He felt the coach lurch around the corner, looked out of the window, and identified from the many houses on the opposite side of the square, that belonging to Adriana. Reluctantly, he lifted her onto the seat adjacent, ignoring—with difficulty—her soft moan of protest.

 
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.

She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.

A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she’s strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.