Finding Master Right(26)

“What are you doing?” she whined.

“Seeing if you taste as sexy as you look.” He slid down, his shoulders holding her legs apart, and holding her hands so she couldn’t fight him off. The gentle breath he blew across her sex made her squeal.

Her clit poked shyly from its hiding place and the seam of her sex was spread open to him, wet and ready. He started slowly, barely brushing his mouth against her.

“Banner, no. I can’t. Please, just fuck me.”

“You can’t, what?” he growled, but paused to see if she was going to use her safeword.

“Please, I’m not going to last. Let me go.” She was trying to get away, but also looking down at him with a desire that made him want to see how hard he could make her come.

“Stay still and let me.” He bit her thigh, and she gasped.

“But I don’t like this, Sir.”

A challenge. “No? What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, averting her gaze.

“When was the last time someone went down on you?”

“High school.”

“Maybe you’ve changed your mind since then.” Hopefully, she thought he had more skill than a teenage boy. “Is this a hard limit for you?”

“No, Sir,” she whispered after a long pause.

Banner leaned in again, kissing the inside of her thigh, working his way up, skipping over her sex and leaving another trail of kisses down her other thigh. He traveled the same route again, this time nipping her gently. When he got to her pussy and skipped over it, her hips came up off the mattress, silently asking for what she thought she didn’t want. Rather than rush, he licked and nipped along one of her labia, then the other. She started to relax and he released her hands.

The movement of her hips encouraged him. She moaned under her breath and gasped when he bit. “What’s the matter, Kate?”

A whine of frustration escaped her, and he smiled.

“More?”

“No, it’s okay. You can stop.” Her body told a different tale, tilting toward him, seeking his mouth. It sounded as though she was letting him off the hook.

“I’m not done.”

Although she made a quiet sound of distress, she didn’t say anything about Australian marsupials.

Leisurely, he slid his tongue over the sensitive skin around her clit, circling tighter, until he flicked his tongue directly across it. Kate froze, soundless. He skimmed a finger along her entrance and found her wet, hot, ready. With gentle dabs and flicks he assaulted her clit as he slid his finger deep inside her. She shrieked, and her hips bucked. Wrapping the arm that supported him around her thigh, he held her in place and continued. Between finger fucking her and his oral assault, her noises became higher pitched, frantic. Her muscles tightened, ready to come, and he stopped.

“Noooo!”

“What?” He smiled, but was aroused by her harried expression, flushed skin, and the way she squirmed under him.

“Please, Sir. I need more.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Please!”

He started again, teasing, bringing her to the brink of orgasm, only to stop.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she shrieked. She tried to wriggle away, and he laughed.

“Where are you going? I’m not done.”

“Please, Sir, just let me finish. I’ll do it myself. I don’t care. You don’t have t . . .”

He caught her clit between his lips and suckled it gently as he wedged another finger into her tightness. Kate gurgled something unintelligible. Crushed against the bed, his cock throbbed. Even if he came in his pants it would still be worth it to have her lose this much control to him. God, he wanted to be inside her, but exerting his dominance over her was far more pressing. Alone, he could rub one out if need be, but this feeling he could get only from a submissive. And right then he only wanted it from her.

Banner tortured her, waiting for the word he wanted to hear. It wasn’t her safeword. He was an evil bastard.

When he stopped again, she lost all control—every last hint of it. She howled, tears tracking down her face.

“Shh . . . poor thing.” He stroked her thigh as she writhed beneath him.

“Please. Please, Master. Anything. Please . . .” Her words were barely coherent between her sobs.

“Please, what?”

“Please, I need to come. Please fuck me, Master.”

The word pinballed through his mind, hitting places he hadn’t realized suffered from neglect. A fierce possessiveness rolled in, and he consumed her with his gaze. Small, helpless, wanting. Only he could fix this for her. Only he could make it better.

“Are you sure you want me to fuck you, slave? You said you didn’t want me to. Now I’m not sure what to do.” He knelt up, dragged the condom out of his pocket, then rolled it on, ready to walk away if she asked him to. If she rejected him now, he might implode, but that wasn’t her problem.

She was crying now, pulling on his wrists and trying to wrap her legs around him. “I was lying. Just fuck me, and you can beat me for lying later. Please!”

“Spread your legs for me. Show me what’s mine.”

She opened wider, trying so hard to be a good girl for him.

He reached under her and grabbed two handfuls of her ass and dragged her up onto his lap until she was almost upside down. At the first touch of his cock to her entrance, she arched toward him, pushing off the bed with her hands, trying to impale herself.

Without meaning to go so fast, he sank his cock into her wetness, both of them more desperate than good technique allowed for. The girl was tight, drenched, and clutching around his cock, which was twitching in time with his pulse. He rammed into her, controlling her movements to please himself, using her the way her body needed to be used. She tensed in his arms, a keening wail gathering in her throat. Even if he was the meanest bastard alive he couldn’t have stopped her this time.

Her high-pitched cry split his ears as her cunt clamped down on him. Control . . . He had to wait. As mind-blowing as this was he didn’t want to get off too soon. He bit down on the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder.

“Fuck! Fuck!” She gasped. Her body rippled around him. More nonsensical words poured from her mouth, laced with strings of profanity.

Banner pulled her off his cock and flipped her over.

On her belly, she squirmed, begging, desperate for more. Before she could get to her knees, he was on her, pressing her into the bed, thrusting his cock back into her. From the tone of her cry he’d rammed directly into her G-spot. He grabbed the hair at the base of her scalp as leverage and used his other hand on the bed to support some of his weight. Under him, she seemed overwhelmed, but she didn’t stop him. Like a good girl, she took what he gave her.

She whimpered pitifully into the mattress, moaning every time he bottomed out. The comforter turned into knots under her grasping hands. Pressure built in his balls and he covered her with his body, grabbing the back of her head with both hands while supporting his upper body on his elbows.

If only he could rip off the damn condom and fuck her properly, feel her from inside, more intimately. Come in her. Own her.

A broken scream pushed into the mattress. Completely at his mercy. She was exhausted but coming again anyway.

“That’s a good girl,” he crooned in her ear. Her pussy squeezed him, milking his dick until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Every muscle tightened as he lost control to her body. He came, swore, pleasure and euphoria sweeping over him. A mix of heady satisfaction and frustration followed.

Fuck this temporary bullshit, he was claiming her. Since she’d been around, he’d felt more alive than he had in years, and he wasn’t willing to hand her over to some idiot Dom without doing his damnedest to make this work.

So she didn’t want to be a slave. Maybe it was something they could negotiate. He could handle her being headstrong sometimes, if it meant that he still got to see the look in her eyes when she couldn’t help but call him Master. He had to convince her, and now he knew how to do it.

He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. If your body knows me as its Master, your mind will follow.

Feeling as if he were standing in the sun for the first time in his life, he rolled to the side, then pushed her onto hers so he could see her face. He brushed hair out of her eyes, watching her blink at him like a newborn calf—confused, shocked.

“Are you alright?” He trailed a finger down the side of her face, her neck, to sketch small circles on her lovely collarbone.

She shivered, then her eyes rolled, closed. Shuddering, she moaned, and his cock twitched in response. Hell, she was sexy. Her hair tousled, her eyes half-lidded again, she looked like a recently fucked goddess. Gorgeous.

He tried to memorize her face—the vulnerable eyes, the parted lips, the curve of her neck—so he could paint her like this.

Banner moved closer, wrapped his arm around her and kissed her gently. This could work, but he had to rein himself in. The sex clouded his mind. Sure, they were compatible, but his body was urging him to collar her, marry her. He could have bounced out of bed, if she asked, and started renovating the house to suit her.

Whoa there, hold up, tiger.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said.

“Like what?”

“This got way out of hand.” Shaking, she extricated herself from his arms and slid off the bed. When her feet hit the floor, her knees buckled, but he dove across the bed and caught her before her knees met the hardwood.