Masterson

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  "That's what I wanted to hear. You're learning. Next I'm going to get a good hold of that beautiful ass of yours, lift you high while you hold on tight, and eat what's mine."

  At this point I'm trying my damnedest to hold off the orgasm that is roaring back like a lioness. No, like a damn dragon. I don't know what his kinky ass might do if I come before he says so. Still kneeling on the floor, he moves close to me again and settles in between my legs.

  "Lift your pretty yellow skirt up to your waist, baby."

  I can't believe that I'm following his orders, that I'm really doing this, but I can't imagine doing anything else at this moment. I want this. I want him.

  "Now spread your knees wide and don't close them again, or I'm going to have to spank that pretty ass."

  It's taking everything for me not to allow my head to fall back on the couch. The sensations that are bombarding me are overwhelming. Looking at a man dead in his eyes while you're spread completely open is not an easy task or for the faint of heart. I'm exposed in a way that makes me both excited and uncomfortable. Both are emotions that seem to please Roman.

  "Give me my pussy now."

  I grip the sofa a little harder. Every dirty word and command he gives me is pushing me farther and farther to the edge of an orgasmic abyss. He uses both of his rough hands to scoop me underneath my ass, lifting me higher for easy access, and then he wastes no time getting to work. Licking me continually from front to back.

  "Beautiful," he says reverently against my pussy.

  He stops after a few strokes to rest (I think) and uses his thumb to rub my clit back and forth several times. When my hips start to move in tandem with his handling of me, I can feel a smile spread across his lips.

  "That's it, baby. Fuck me back."

  I can feel the orgasm winding inside me tightly like a coil. I know that it's going to be a powerful one, because Roman obviously likes to tease and draw the orgasms out. He starts then stops tongue fucking me over and over, and it feels like a roller coaster ride, with hills and valleys but all completely exhilarating. A thrill ride.

  But I can't hold on any longer.

  Tears start to pool as I try to delay the inevitable.

  "Please–" I beg.

  I clench my fists into the back of the sofa as I'm about to release, and right before I scream bloody murder, Roman stops and smacks my pussy swift and hard with the flat palm of his hand.

  Immediately I explode.

  "Fuck!" I scream.

  I see fireworks in front of me and bursts of sunlight in my peripheral vision, and my heart is racing a mile a minute. My arms flop to my sides as I'm loose as a noodle and panting heavily. I buck a little as a few aftershocks run through me. Roman allows me a moment to come down, but no more than a moment. He flips me over so that I'm on my knees and leaning over the edge of the sofa. I don't see this one coming, but hear and feel it as he gives me another whack, but this time across the ass.

  "Next time you wait until I say you can come, Duchess. Nod if you understand."

  I nod yes. Still breathless. Still blissful.

  "Sit back on your heels and raise your arms baby."

  I hesitate for a moment.

  "I just want to take your shirt off, so I can kiss your back."

  It takes every bit of strength I have, but I raise my arms as Roman slowly peels my tank top above my head. Then he unsnaps my bra and lets that fall on the floor behind the sofa. My breasts feel heavier than normal and my nipples as hard as stone as he slides his huge hands around the front of me and tenderly massages them. He continues his massage as he talks to me.

  "You smell so fucking good, Duchess. You feel so good," he says while tenderly kissing me in the center of my back. "I just want to bury my dick so far inside you, that you'll never want easy again. You'll always want hard."

  At this point I'm moaning like some wounded animal. I need more relief. I need him inside me. I know this is him forcing my hand. Making me choose between him and Jagger, as if there is really a choice, but I don't want to think about that right now. I don't want to consider the ramifications of my actions. I just want penetration.

  "What do you want, Duchess? You want it easy or hard?"

  "Hard." I moan telling him what he wants to hear, so that I can get what I need.

  "Say again?"

  "HARD." I say angrily.

  He chuckles. "Right answer, baby."

  I hear Roman's zipper coming down, and then what I think is a foil packet being ripped open. I turn my head and watch as he slides a condom on the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life.

  "Wait, Roman–"

  He whacks my ass.

  "Who’s, Roman?" He asks sarcastically.

  "I just don't know if I can handle that."

  He turns me around to face him while still continuing to massage my breasts, my shoulders, my back. I can't help but lean into him as he talks. It feels so damn good.

  "You've had sex before right?"

  "Yes." I say emphatically.

  "A lot?"

  "Not exactly."

  "What about with the coke head?"

  I roll my eyes. "Once."

  I can't read his face right now but he seems ... pleased.

  "I'm going to sit down and you're going to straddle me. Then I'm going to suck those beautiful tits of yours while you slowly take your time sitting down on my dick. You control the tempo and the depth this time. The only rule I have is simple. Don't come until I give you permission, Duchess. All your orgasms belong to me. All of them."

  "That's not easy."

  "Nothing good ever is baby."

  "Okay,” I whisper nervously. I've never ridden someone, although I know they do it a lot in movies. I'm hoping I can figure it out or at least fake it. The few times my high school boyfriend Roger and I found time to have sex, it was strictly missionary style and lasted ten minutes tops.

  Roman lifts me up with brute strength and sits on the couch while he simultaneously straddles me across his lap. His penis is so hard that it looks brutally angry. Like its ready to punish me for making it wait so long. I can't imagine how it's going to fit inside of me.

  "It's going to be fine, baby. I'm a pro at this."

  Somehow that doesn't really make me feel any better. Until he starts to do three things.

  First he closes his warm mouth around one of my nipples. Sucking, then licking, then kissing and then he does it all over again to the other breast. The sensation of his teeth lightly grazing my nipples makes my hips move with a mind of their own. As my hips gyrate, Roman takes his right hand and very lightly slaps each side of my butt. A tap on the left cheek. Then a tap on the right. Back and forth. And as if all of this wasn't enough he then takes the thumb of his left hand and starts to lightly rub my clit.

  "Masterson,” I say with adoration.

  "You're getting nice and wet for me, baby. That's a good girl. I'm not going to stop what I'm doing. You just start lowering yourself down,” he says coaxing me. "Go slow."

  Things got tricky right from the start as I started to lower myself on his blunt tip. He was thick and wide and I could feel myself being unnaturally pulled and stretched.

  "A little lower, Duchess."

  The slaps on my ass grow a little firmer. A little louder. Which immediately sends a gush in between my legs, so I am able to slide down a little further.

  "That feels so fucking good. A little further baby." He says with a mouth full of my nipple.

  With deep concentration and my eyes tightly shut, I continue to ease my way down and am almost full to the hilt when I feel a hard smack on my butt.

  "Eyes on me, Duchess."

  He's a genius, because that smack was just the little push I needed to come completely down.

  Oh. My. God.

  I feel full and stretched beyond measure, but it also feels utterly amazing.

  He starts using both of his hands to knead my ass cheeks, which helps my hips build a rhythmic rocking momentum.
/>   Forward and back.

  Forward and back.

  After a few minutes, we start to find a mutual cadence. As I work my hips forward he pulls me back down, and I feel as if I'm having an out of body experience as he strokes me over and over. I'm doing it. I'm riding him. And now I'm also starting to feel that familiar tension build down below. The tension I've only felt when Roman is about to give me one of the most delicious orgasms ever.

  This is another first for me. I've never come while having sex, and I think it's about to happen. Now Roman is using his hands to speed things up and bouncing me gently up and down. Up and down. I'm still looking at him. I'm totally concentrating on his face. I'm trying to stay focused and not come.

  It's intense, and it ain't working.

  "You better not be coming, Duchess." He warns with the sexiest grin on his face.

  He needs to shut up. The more he talks, the more I'm about to frackin' come. Everything that comes out of his mouth right now is making me crazy. I'm starting to see that this is part of his game. He wants me to fail.

  "You better ask for permission, Duchess." he says fervently.

  I don't know what to say. I barely say anything during sex, much less know how to start asking for shit.

  He smacks my ass and I gasp.

  "You know what's coming if you don't ask permission, baby. Last chance."

  It's too late.

  The jackass was talking too much. Everything he says is a turn on, so I scream loud enough for his neighbors to hear, and the orgasm is so frackin' powerful that I feel a rush of adrenaline straight to my head and it almost knocks me dead on my ass.

  Nope. I'm dead.

  Death by orgasm.

  "I have one rule." he rumbles after catching his own breath.

  I know, I know.

  "And you broke it."

  He quickly lifts me up and lays me across his legs on my stomach. He gives me a throw pillow to rest my head on, since my bottom half is on his lap. I notice that his dick is still rock hard and still sheathed in the condom. I can't believe he didn't come yet. Wow.

  "Now for your punishment, Duchess."

  "What are you some half ass Dom–"

  One of his massive hands comes down like a hammer on my left ass cheek and I yelp.

  "Ow!"

  He doesn't say sorry or ask me if I'm ok, but just continues smacking on me. On the right cheek, then the left. Right. Left. Each one hurting a bit more than the last. I count seven slaps on each cheek when he finally stops to abruptly slide a finger deep inside of me. I don't think I can tolerate another orgasm. I'm pretty sure I'll pass out. Yet somehow I think that's the point. Part of the punishment.

  I'm definitely learning. Roman is kinky and dominant and delicious.

  "I knew you'd be wet," he mumbles. "Perfection."

  Just when he lulls me into full-blown horniness again, here comes another smack.

  Whack!

  "Masterson–" I whine in between tears and ecstasy.

  No response from him. He just continues with another seven smacks on each cheek, then another round of finger fucking. My bottom is burning but the fingers inside me seem to level the pain out with an equally pleasurable sensation.

  At this point I'm screaming, but I'm not sure for what. To stop or to keep going?

  Finally when the next slap comes, I come hard.

  It's brutal.

  It comes in waves this time and it makes my pussy pulse over and over.

  I'm spent.

  Afterwards I curl in a fetal position on Roman's lap, curl my arms around his waist, and close my eyelids. I know I shouldn't, but this was the closest thing to euphoria that I've ever experienced, and I want to be close to him. That is until I feel Mr. Tibbs' cold blue eyes staring up at my warm brown ones. I know it sounds nutty, but there's something about the way he's watching me that makes me start to feel self-conscious. Like he's judging me.

  "You okay, Duchess?"

  I start to rustle around.

  "Yep, just probably should get going home."

  "Home?"

  "Yeah." I can't bear to look him in the eyes.

  "It's the middle of the afternoon. Why the hell are you leaving?"

  I pick up my bra and tank top, ignoring his question, and politely ask him where the bathroom is.

  "Where the FUCK are you going? Don't make me ask you again!" He roars violently.

  I don't mean to, but I inadvertently flinch from the loud volume of his protest. When I do, he takes a long look at me from head to toe and stares at me in a way I've never seen before. Like he's just realized what we've done and is scared shitless by it too.

  "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I didn't mean to frighten you. The bathroom is straight back and the last door on the left. When you're ready I'll take you home."

  After I shut myself away in Roman's bathroom, I snap my bra back on, and fix my clothes. I take a really long look at myself in the mirror and almost gasp. My makeup is completely smeared, my hair is all over the place, and I look like I've been thoroughly fucked ... by my cousin.

  I've hit an all time low. I start to cry. All I can do now is try my best to rinse my face with some water, hand soap and toilet tissue and promise myself that this will never happen again.

  "I'm ready to go," is all I say once I've gotten myself together and out of the bathroom. I think he notices that I've been crying, but he doesn't say anything.

  We simply leave his apartment and ride home in the Rover in complete and utter silence.

  23

  Elizabeth

  JUST LIKE A DRUG ADDICT, I wake up the next day regretting my hit of Roman. And just like an addict, I start promising myself that I'll get clean. Telling myself that I'll make smarter choices from now on. Unfortunately like a meth head, my addiction for the bad boy is growing stronger and more powerful with each passing day. I've been plotting and planning all morning how I can acquire just one more hit of Roman and then finally quit him cold turkey. But then divine intervention strikes and that's when it happens.

  The call that changes everything.

  A woman named Mrs. Daniella Nelson calls and introduces herself as the executive assistant to a Mr. Henry Lambert. Not the junior level money manager that Sloan knows, but the actual head of the entire investment group. The group that has the power to invest a lot of money into my business.

  "Miss Hill, we have an unexpected break in the schedule tomorrow afternoon, and I thought this would be the perfect time for you to pitch Mr. Lambert."

  Shut the front door!

  "Thanks for thinking of me, Mrs. Nelson. I'd love to pitch Mr. Lambert tomorrow. Just tell me the time and I'll be there. The office on North 16th right?"

  I'm going to need to email Krishna and see if he can make a few quick tweaks to my code.

  "No Miss Hill, Mr. Lambert is away at The Atlantis Hotel in the Bahamas attending a conference. He has a pocket of time in between two panels and asked specifically to meet with you. You'll have to fly to him."

  I pause for a moment, because my first thought is of Roman. He'll go ballistic if I just leave the country without, I don't know, talking to him about it. Plus a little part of me doesn't want to leave to do something so big without getting his opinion. Oh good grief! I sound ridiculous. Maybe this is just what the two of us need. Space. A minute to get our heads together. To remember that we're cousins, not star crossed lovers.

  "Umm, I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to swing this last minute, Mrs. Nelson." I say with regret. The truth is, is that I don't have enough room on any of my credit cards for a plane ticket around the corner much less to the Bahamas.

  "We'll purchase the ticket and reserve your room of course, Miss Hill. All you'll need to worry about is a great presentation. If you agree, your flight leaves at 8:30am tomorrow. You'll need to get there early of course because it's international travel. You have a passport right?"

  "I do."

  "Excellent! So should I reserve your seat and let Mr. Lambert kno
w that you're on your way?"

  This is it, Elizabeth. Your Plan B.

  "Yes, thank you."

  "Okay, can you email me your details? Send me your full name, birthdate, passport number and all that jazz, and I'll email you your boarding pass. Make sure to print it out and bring it with you to the gate."

  "Absolutely. I'm on it right now."

  "And, Miss Hill?"

  "Yes?"

  "Good luck."

  24

  Roman

  “WHAT IN THE HAM sandwich happened in here?"

  Jade enters my apartment door cautiously; poking her head inside and looking around corners while randomly kicking things on the floor with the rounded toe of her Converse. I forgot that I gave her a copy of my key if I ever became "unresponsive".

  It's a safety precaution we put in place just in case I was ever in trouble, and she needed to access my emergency cash or gun stash. She's never had to use it until today, although had to use is a strong term for her being here. I don't need her assistance at all, and she knows it. She's just being nosy.

  "This place is a real fucking mess, Roman, and so are you."

  Tell me something I don't already know you tiny terror.

  "Shut up, Jade."

  "We really need to talk about how you speak to your employees, if you're going to take over the business. Your people skills suck."

  After the awkward drive home with Elizabeth the other day, I called myself giving her a little distance. I know that I moved entirely too fast with her when she was over my place, and that I probably scared the ever living shit out of her. So I thought it was best that I take yesterday off and make it a "No Duchess Day," because when I'm around her, I can't help but want to get inside her in any way she'll allow me to. Her mind. Her body.

  Fortunately my "No Duchess Day" gave me a chunk of distraction-free time to take a serious look over of the ownership agreements I've signed with Joseph, along with my lawyer, and to start setting up meetings with management of each club. I have a lot of ideas on how to improve productivity and increase revenue, especially now that Camden and Cutter have agreed to be the managing partners of all the clubs.