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Forbidden Love: My Uncle's Secret Lover

Forbidden Love: My Uncle's Secret Lover

shuyu

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I fell in love with an older man, but he won't marry me; I'm just his hidden bed partner! I really want to marry him, no matter the means, even if it means crossing his boundaries and breaking his principles.

Chapter 1 Falling In Love with An Older Man

I've fallen for an older man. But he'll never marry me. I'm just his shameful mistress, hidden in the dark!

I'm so eager to marry him that I'm willing to do whatever it takes, even if it means crossing his bottom line and shattering his principles.

1

"Daddy, I want to get married."

I tilted my head to look at Derek and told him my heartfelt words with great earnestness.

His last name is Davis, and his first name is Derek, but I've always called him Daddy.

Derek looked up at me and gently patted my head. "Erika, don't be silly."

His voice was indulgent, but I knew he was serious, even angry.

Yes, he wouldn't marry me because I was just his hidden mistress.

He firmly adheres to the philosophy of non - marriage!

Daddy is 40 years old this year. However, he isn't greasy at all. Since he has been working out all year round and has some assets, he is like a seasoned veteran. Like John, handsome, a little bit of roguishness and naughtiness.

But I love him just the way he is. He's not only good - looking but also wealthy.

I looked at Derek and seriously said again, "Daddy, I really want to get married."

Derek looked at me steadily, seeing my seriousness, and asked, "To whom?"

I replied, "To you."

Derek said, "Erika."

His voice remained gentle, yet the indulgence in it had vanished. Compared with how he was just a moment ago, he was truly furious.

But I didn't back down, even feeling aggrieved. "Derek, I want to get married, to marry you, to be your wife, to have children with you! I don't want to be a hidden mistress anymore!"

Derek only heard one thing: "You're not a mistress, but you won't be my wife."

Just a lover, I knew that, but I still felt wronged. After five years with him, this was still the outcome.

I was seething with anger. I threw off the quilt and got out of bed stark - naked. We had just had sex, and I hadn't even taken a shower yet.

I thought that at least when we were still in the bed, he should have coaxed me. Even if he deceived me by saying he wanted to marry me at this moment, it would be fine.

But he didn't.

Not marrying is his bottom line, his principle.

I got dressed, grabbed my bag and phone, and was about to leave, but Derek stopped me, standing naked in front of me.

However, he didn't feel the slightest bit of shame. Instead, he asked me, "Where are you going at this late hour?"

I said, "Let's take a break."

After saying that, Derek was visibly stunned, and the atmosphere froze.

I regretted it a little because I really liked Derek. He was undoubtedly a great partner, even as a lover-a cultured, caring lover.

But thinking about it, I didn't regret it. I just wanted to get married, to challenge his bottom line.

I admit that I was pressuring him.

Derek looked at me, then picked me up and placed me on the bed. He bent over and stroked my hair gently, with great tenderness and indulgence.

I looked at him, still naked, and teased, "Daddy, even now, you want to have sex again?"

Derek tucked me in and said, "It's one o'clock now. It's not safe for a girl to go out. You stay home, I'll leave."

I lay there, watching him get dressed. As he was about to leave, he turned back and asked, "Do you really want to get married?"

I thought his attitude might be softening, so I nodded, "Yes."

Derek didn't say anything, just gave a slight nod, then closed the door and left.

He really left. In the large room, I was the only one left, wrapped in the blanket that still carried his scent.

Suddenly, tears welled up in my eyes.

I mentioned marriage, and my relationship with Derek was pretty much over. He would soon have a new lover.

2

I stood in front of the full - length mirror. Looking at myself, I saw the wavy curls and the sexy, alluring slip dress. I was full of charm, with an excellent temperament, and also very fashionable.

This current me has almost made me forget what I used to be - just a frumpy factory girl.

I was eighteen when I started seeing Derek, very young, very naive, and very rebellious.

I was born into a family with a preference for sons over daughters. As the second child, I was like the filling in a sandwich, unloved by both my father and mother. No matter how many things I did to please them, I could never measure up to my elder sister and younger siblings.

In order to protest and draw my parents' attention, I, who had always achieved excellent grades, deliberately answered the questions randomly during the college entrance examination, thus failing the exam.

But my parents still didn't care. My once-proud academic achievements became a joke after my exam failure.

My dad sent me to work in a clothing factory through someone from the village. I worked for half a year, and my salary was collected by the villagers-3, 000 $ a month, of which I got 1, 000, and the remaining 2, 000 went to my dad.

My dad said, "Your job offers free food, accommodation and work clothes. You don't need much money. 1000$ left for you is more than enough. You should be grateful for what you have."

I became more rebellious, so after five months, I left without taking my salary.

After I left, I wasn't in a hurry to look for a job. Instead, I spent all day long in Internet cafes playing games. In the game world, as long as I had great equipment, other players would be very nice to me when they talked to me.

Then I met a woman who, when I ran out of money, said she could introduce me to some people and find me a job that paid well.

She was such a nice and caring person. I trusted her deeply, so I just followed her.

Later, she took me to karaoke and drinking. There were many people there, both men and women. I stood in a line with a bunch of other girls, feeling like merchandise on display.

I felt so ashamed!

At that moment, I saw Daddy. He was sitting among the men, like a charismatic leader in a drama.

I didn't dare look at anyone else, just him. Then Daddy chose me and took me to a hotel.

When Daddy went to shower, I finally realized what was happening.

I also realized that this kind-hearted woman had sold me out.

This wasn't making friends; this was becoming someone's mistress!

3

I came to my senses and wanted to escape. However, I didn't even know how to open that high - end door. I was so rustic and clumsy!

Daddy came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, and saw me at the door, looking like a thief, stomping my feet in frustration. He laughed and asked, "What are you doing?"

I was frightened. I quickly turned around and pressed my back tightly against the door panel. I looked at the man with vigilance and defensiveness in my eyes. When I saw that he was only wearing that little, I blushed and averted my gaze in embarrassment, not daring to look at him.

But I couldn't help stealing glances at his chest and abs. It was the first time I'd seen such a handsome man, such a great physique. I instinctively took a couple of peeks.

I saw him smirk, as if he wanted to laugh but held it back.

He sat on the bed and called me over, "Come here."

I didn't want to go, but his gentle words carried a hint of command, like how my dad used to call me when I was little. I couldn't resist and walked over, standing in front of him.

Daddy looked me over, and his gaze made me feel ashamed-not because of how he looked at me, but because I felt out of place.

Everything here was so upscale, and he looked wealthy, while I was wearing 30$ market shoes and a 50$ market dress.

Also, I'm not prostitute. I still have at least that much sense of shame.

He asked, "Do you know what you're doing?"

I shook my head then nodded.

I didn't know before, but I understood now.

"What did Paige tell you?"

Oh, Paige was that kind-hearted woman. I used to call her Ms. Wallace.

I stammered and told him everything, finally pleading, "I didn't know. Please let me go, and don't hurt me."

I'd seen on TV that girls who refused would get beaten up, very badly. I was afraid of pain.

He asked, "How old are you?"

I answered, "Eighteen."

He nodded, then got up and changed his clothes.

I asked him again if he could let me go.

He pointed to the door, "I'm not stopping you."

I blushed, embarrassed, and lowered my head, "I don't know how to open it."

I heard his low laughter which sounded very pleasant. I peeked up at him. He had a beautiful smile that was really somewhat rakish and naughty.

He called me over and taught me how to open the door. It was a high-end lock with no handle.

So when I tried to open it earlier, I accidentally locked it.

But he didn't laugh at me. He taught me seriously and then gently said, "It's dark outside. It's not safe for a girl to be alone. I'll leave, and you can sleep here."

The next morning, when I got up, a man came to the door. I was startled, thinking that the man I met yesterday had changed his mind.

But it wasn't that. The man said he was Derek's assistant and handed me ten thousand$, telling me to go home and study well, and not to be deceived again.

I didn't want it, but the assistant left the money and walked away before I could catch up. I couldn't just throw the money away for someone else to take, so I picked it up.

Although I hadn't have sex with Daddy, I still felt the shame of being sold.

Who wouldn't love a handsome, wealthy, and gentle man?

About half a month has passed. Since I mentioned marriage, we have been in a cold war for such a long time. We haven't seen each other or sent messages to one another, and this has never happened before.

In the past, he would always be the one to soften and coax me. This time...

Derek was the one who reached out first. He asked me, "Erika, do you really want to get married?"

I still didn't want to give up. I wanted to challenge his limits, so I replied, "Yes."

Derek said, "Wanting to get married is a good thing. I'll introduce you to someone. He's good-looking, has a decent character, and comes from a good family."

I thought Derek was just saying it out of spite, but he wasn't. He sent me many photos. The men looked decent, not very wealthy, but most had cars, houses, and jobs, ensuring a worry-free future.

He genuinely wanted to marry me off, as if I were his own daughter, but I was just his mistress!

A patron marrying off his mistress-how ridiculous!

4

I also got angry. To be at odds with him and to prove that I didn't love him and that I wasn't inseparable from him.

I added these men as friends according to the information he provided. I met them, had conversations with them, and then took a group photo with them to show him. After that, I would list what I was dissatisfied with about each man, nitpicking about every little thing. I was so picky that even if a man took just one extra breath in my presence, I would consider it his fault.

I went on a date with a different man every day, disliking each one, and he kept finding new ones for me until the fifteenth-Aaron.

I stopped being picky because he resembled Derek. Not exactly, but his clothing style, personality, and the way he smiled had that slight roguishness, that hint of mischief.

With merely a three - point likeness to Derek, I just couldn't bring myself to be picky anymore.

I took a photo with Aaron, our heads close together, and sent it to Derek: "I won't be picky anymore. It's him. I like him. Thank you, Daddy."

A long time passed without a reply from Derek, long enough for me to think he was jealous and would compromise.

But then he messaged me, shattering my hopes and happiness.

He said, "Okay."

"Congratulations."

"Aaron is a good guy. I'm relieved."

Seeing those three consecutive messages, I was both angry and on the verge of tears. I loved and hated him!

Since I started to be with him at the age of eighteen, he treated me as if I were his own daughter. He supported my education through university, taught me about the ways of the world, helped me open a store and supported all my interests.

However, he also regarded me as his mistress and had sex with me in all sorts of ways for five years. After that, he got me married off as if I were his daughter.

How could there be such a patron, such a bedfellow in this world?

5

I hadn't established a relationship with Aaron yet. However, I was attempting to get along with him and go on dates with him. I believed that I could make it.

Like many young couples, Aaron took me shopping, to amusement parks, to the movies, gave me flowers, and created romantic moments.

Every time I went out with Aaron, I would tell Derek and send him photos of the food, the fun, the scenery, and even the increasingly intimate photos with Aaron.

They weren't very intimate, just holding hands, putting an arm around each other, and making heart signs in photos.

Just like that, I sent them to Derek.

Aaron wanted to kiss me, and I tried hard to let him, but I couldn't. I didn't like being touched by someone I didn't love.

But the photos I sent still disappeared without a trace, with no response from Derek, nor did he block or delete me.

I wondered if my provocation wasn't enough, if my determination wasn't strong enough.

Was it because Derek hadn't felt anything, and I couldn't let go?

To force him, and to force myself to let go, I took a bold step.

I went to a hotel with Aaron, the same hotel where I met Derek when I was eighteen. I even sent Derek a video.

It was a video of me telling Aaron to shower first.

I thought it would disappear without a trace again, but I preferred it that way.

Because Derek responded, "Take contraceptive measures if you don't want a child yet."

That one single sentence made me feel so powerless and crushed. He really didn't love me. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so nonchalant even when I was on the verge of sleeping with another man.

When Aaron came out of the shower, I was lying on the bed crying. He was bewildered, worried, and gently asked, "What's wrong?"

I looked up at Aaron through tearful eyes. He, with a towel wrapped around his waist, resembled Derek a bit, making today feel like it was back to when I was eighteen.

I cried even harder, sobbing, "Aaron, I'm sorry, I can't. You're not him."

I kept apologizing to Aaron, saying he wasn't him.

I don't know what expression Aaron had at that moment, but I only heard him gently say, "It's okay, I know. We can try again. I can wait."

But I didn't want to. I didn't want to deceive Aaron or use him as a substitute because no one could take the Daddy's place.

I left the hotel. Five years ago, I didn't leave, but five years later, I did.

Aaron still contacted me afterward, still asked me out, saying he knew, he liked me, and he was willing to wait for me to love him.

I refused and blocked Aaron. I shouldn't harm others.

I loved Derek more than I imagined, loved this mature, steady, gentle, and considerate Daddy.

Even if he didn't love me!

Although I love him deeply and want to show vulnerability, the pride he instilled in me over five years of being cherished prevents me from bowing down first. It's the confidence he gave me, the reason I could be so spoiled.

While I was searching for a subtle way to show weakness and make amends, fate handed me an opportunity.

I haven't had my period for two months!

On the day when we had the cold war, we didn't use a condom.

I thought, I might be pregnant.

I was so excited that I wanted to tell Daddy this news. I could hardly wait to share it with him.

Ignoring the fact that it was April Fool's Day, I sent him a message: "Daddy, I think I'm pregnant. It's yours."

Two minutes after sending it, I calmed down and fear set in.

We had a quarrel and hadn't seen each other for two months. Besides, I had sent him a video of me going to a hotel room with another man during this period.

Would he believe it? Would he believe that I'm pregnant with his child?

6

I thought Derek wouldn't believe me and would just ignore me. What's more, he might even be very angry, misunderstanding that I was taking him for a sucker, trying to make him a cuckold and forcing him to marry me by using the pregnancy thing.

Sure enough, Derek didn't reply to my message anymore. I dared not send him another one either, for I was afraid that what I got in return would be the notification of "Friend Verification Required", meaning that he had already blocked me and that even the last bit of our friendship could not be maintained.

I was just a mistress, a lover. How did I end up loving him to such a humble extent?

"Erika?"

The room was pitch black. I lay on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably, when suddenly I heard Derek's voice, still caring, still gentle, but I was scared.

The light came on, bright and blinding.

With my eyes narrowed and tears streaming down, I looked at Derek who appeared at the doorway. Through my sobs, I pleaded, "Daddy, please don't drive me away. I won't make a fuss anymore. I'll be obedient."

He came to drive me away. This house belongs to him. Now he refuses to be the sucker anymore, nor will he be my Daddy.

Yet five years ago, I had begged him to let me go.

Now, five years later, I was begging him not to make me leave.

How did it come to this? How did the once proud and self-respecting me become so humble?

Derek held me close, pressing my face against his chest. It was still his scent, indescribable but pleasant, a scent I loved.

I clung to him tightly, terrified he would leave, that he would abandon me, that he would throw me out.

However, Derek was still as gentle as always. He gently stroked my hair with his hand, and coaxed me tenderly, "I won't drive you away. Never will I do that."

I cried even harder, telling him I was pregnant, that the child was his, that I hadn't slept with Aaron, begging him to believe me. I said if he didn't want the child, I would terminate the pregnancy.

"Please, believe me."

Derek said, "Erika, I believe you. Please, stop crying."

He gently wiped my tears, comforting me until I stopped crying, sniffling for a long time.

Through my sobs, I asked him, "Daddy, do you believe me? The child is really yours."

Derek looked at me seriously and said, "Erika, I had a vasectomy ten years ago."

7

Derek's words were like a bolt from the blue to me, hitting me so hard that I felt as if I had been struck dizzy!

Was he really sterilized, or was he lying to avoid being trapped into marriage?

If he had really been sterilized, why had he always used condoms in the past five years?

Except during the safe period, he always used a condom. The last time was an exception because I pestered him not to use one.

More likely, he didn't trust me and used this as an excuse to expose me?

I stared blankly at Derek as if he were a complete stranger. All of a sudden, it seemed as if I no longer recognized him.

Derek sighed helplessly, then took something out of a bag and handed it to me: "Erika, this is a pregnancy test. Go check."

I felt like a balloon suddenly deflated, losing all energy.

I looked at Derek, too tired to explain, "In the end, you still don't trust me."

Derek remained silent. With the pregnancy test kit in hand, he simply picked me up and carried me to the bathroom. Then he handed the test kit to me and said, "Erika, I trust you. But let's do the test first and talk after we get the result."

I felt he didn't trust me. I didn't want to take the test, but his demeanor suggested he would personally undress me and hold me while I peed to test it.

I reluctantly agreed to take the test, asking Derek to leave. He refused, insisting on watching me take the test.

I thought he feared I would use tap water to fake it, still not trusting me.

I became even more furious, seething with anger. After I finished collecting my urine, I shoved the pregnancy test at him, demanding that he test it himself.

I said defiantly, "Believe it or not, I'm pregnant, and it's yours. Once the child is born, we'll do a paternity test to prove it."

While waiting for the result of the pregnancy test, I blurted out a lot of angry and spiteful remarks. I said that I would raise the child on my own and never recognize him as the father. When he got old, I would take his walking stick away from him or push his wheelchair to the square dance area. I would dance there right in front of him.

All in all, they were very childish and angry remarks.

Soon, the test result came out.

7

The test showed only one line, not even a faint second line.

This meant I wasn't pregnant. I didn't want to believe it and wanted to test again.

But there was no need because I hadn't had my menstrual cycle (period) for two months. If I were pregnant, it would show.

"So there was only one possible result, that is, I wasn't pregnant.

Derek said, "I really had a vasectomy."

I replied, "Okay."

Derek said, "You're not pregnant."

I replied, "Okay."

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness. Since I wasn't pregnant, I could no longer prove that I hadn't slept with Aaron and that I had never betrayed Derek.

He would never believe me now.

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