by Abby Gordon
“Master,” she murmured. “Please, fuck me.”
In one stroke he thrust into her pussy to his balls. His hands stroked up her arms and their fingers intertwined. His tongue thrust into her mouth and she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. All that mattered was right then — nothing else but the cock filling her, the tongue possessing her, and the muscular body between her and the rest of the world.
They were both on edge and in just a few deep strokes, she came, squeezing his cock with her pussy. His groan filled her ears as she felt the flood of his release.
“So good,” she breathed. “So good.”
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and let euphoria fill her body.
Dimly, she felt him release her limbs and pick her up. Snuggling against his chest, she didn’t think life could get better. In the back of her mind came the thought that if he was in her life permanently then she could have this feeling every day. Every night. Her heartbeat quickened. His strength. His touch. His control when they were behind closed doors. Could she do that? Give him total power over her body when they were alone?
As he settled her in the middle of the bed before drawing her against him, she knew she could. She already had. With him, she’d done things she’d never imagined. Her eagerly sucking a man’s penis? Wouldn’t have happened before him. Her begging a man to fuck her? Had never happened. Her wanting to be fucked in the ass? Inconceivable, until now. She wanted him to do what he wanted with her. She trusted him like she’d never trusted Kevin.
That thought startled her so much she started to sit up.
“What is it?” he asked, instantly alert. “Does the plug hurt?”
“No,” she whispered, shaken by the revelation. “It’s fine. Honest.” She settled back down and felt the weight of his arm at her waist. Comforted, she put her arm over it and closed her eyes. “It’s just I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“I trust you more than I ever trusted Kevin. I mean, I dated the man for eight months. I had sex with him a few times…”
“A few times?” he interrupted. “Are you serious? The man could have had you in his bed for eight months and only took you a few times?” He went up on his elbow to look down at her. “How many is a few times?”
She frowned, trying to remember.
“Maybe nine or ten,” she finally said. “I was doing several long overseas shoots at first, but as we seemed to get more serious, I cut back on those. This last one in Fiji I asked him to come with me. I thought it would be wildly romantic.” She grimaced. “You know, the whole walk on the beach in the moonlight on a tropical island and…” She sighed. “My mom watched a lot of black and white classic movies. From Here to Eternity was one of my favorites.”
“But Kevin said he couldn’t?”
“Fully booked with all sorts of meetings and who knows what his father would need him to do,” she muttered. “Now I know just what he considers a ‘meeting.’ He must have been giving Delilah an up-close-and-personal briefing.”
“I can understand the excuse of having meetings,” he started. “But,” he gave her a stern look when she started to protest, “not about cheating on you.” He frowned. “Who is this Delilah anyway?”
“She’s another model,” Francine replied, nestling back against his chest. “Young and fresh is how everyone is describing her. Red hair, green eyes, freckles, and she’s got her own boobs.”
“What?” He frowned. “You lost me on that last part.”
She smiled slightly even as she felt her eyes fill. She blinked rapidly to beat back the tears.
“Most models are so underweight that we don’t have enough body fat to have much in our chest area. Delilah has a cup size more than most of us. And it’s natural as opposed to silicone.”
“Hey,” he murmured.
His hand caressed her with comfort that brought more tears to her eyes. She looked up at him and felt a tear slip out of the corner of her eye.
“I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but all my life, I’ve wanted…”
“Shh,” He shook his head. “Don’t think about what some insecure little girl might or might not have. I don’t know who she is, but I can’t imagine she will ever have the ability to turn a man on just by looking at a two-page spread in a business journal.”
His hand covered a breast and his fingers tugged on the rosy nipple. “I can still remember the first time I saw it. I was having lunch with friends and three of them were talking about it. One pulled out the magazine and I got hard just thinking about dominating you sexually.” His hand went to her hip. “When Bron called me, I almost jerked off listening to you describe some of the very things I’d been wanting to do to you for four years.” The hand went to her pussy. “I got you in my bed as fast as I could, sweetheart. I can’t keep my hands off of you.”
“He told Delilah I was an ice queen,” Francine whispered, feeling the pain anew. “He had hinted before that…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “He fucked my ass the first time we had sex. It hurt so much I couldn’t sit down for days and it was hard to move. He said it was my fault…that I was a tease and I got what I deserved.”
“Bullshit,” he replied calmly although anger sparked his eyes. “You are one hot, sexy lady.”
She shook her head.
Gently he brushed the tears off her cheeks. “That fucking asshole. He’s a bully who doesn’t deserve to be called a man,” he muttered. He rolled her onto her back and on top of her. “Listen to me. Think of everything that’s happened in the past few hours. He didn’t know how to turn you on. Hell, he didn’t even try, did he?”
She shook her head, although the tears continued.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispered, cuddling her close. “He’s not worth even one of your tears. Or another moment’s thought from you.”
Nodding, she tried to calm herself and accept the comfort he was offering. After several minutes, she was relaxed and pressed her lips against his collarbone.
“We never finished our shower,” she whispered, her palm sliding down his body. Her fingers wrapped around his cock. “I wanted to do this in the shower.”
“Do what in the shower?” he managed to say as her thumb teased the slit on his dick. “Jesus, woman, you’ve got me hard and dripping already.”
She wriggled her hips and blew him a kiss. “I wanted to suck your cock. I could just imagine what it would be like.” She gave him a coy look. “Me kneeling and sucking on you while the water hit everything and made things all slippery and wet.”
He groaned as she began stroking him. “Let’s see just how slippery and wet things are.”
His hand found her pussy and a finger slid inside. She moaned and lifted her hips as if to pull him in.
“I think I’ve become a sex addict,” she commented.
“Mmm, a Nymphomaniac.” He smiled. “I like that.”
“Will you still respect me in the morning if I beg you to fuck me again?”
“Absolutely,” he whispered, plunging two fingers fully into her.
“Please, master, fuck me. Fuck me now.”
“I think I need to return the favor of sucking,” he smiled, moving to kneel between her legs.
“Sucking…” She caught her breath. “Oh, no. I won’t last. I’ll be begging…”
“That’s the best part,” he murmured. “I love hearing you beg me to fuck you. There aren’t too many sweeter things a man can hear.”
In minutes, he was hearing many sweet things. His lips and hands explored her body and had her pleading for more. His hands covered her peach-sized breasts and played with them until her nipples were aching and she was begging him to suck them. Focused on her pleasure, he smiled as she came in his mouth, her pussy clutching his fingers. The butt plug slipped partially out and he pulled it from her.
“You all right?” he asked.
Francine opened her eyes, sure that she saw the stars spinning before her.
“Yeah. Silk,” she mana
ged. “What happened?”
“You lost something,” he told her, holding up the plug. “And I think we need to correct your manners.”
“Why?” She frowned, having trouble focusing on his face.
“You need to call me either…”
“Master or sir.” She nodded, sighing as the waves of pleasure held her aloft. “Sorry. I’ll remember from now on. It’s just…” She sighed. “You’re very good at distracting me and making me forget.”
He opened his mouth, but her stomach rumbled and he chuckled instead. “When was the last time you ate?” he wondered as the sound came again.
“Oh, how embarrassing,” she murmured, one hand covering her flat stomach. “Um, I think it was breakfast in Fiji.” She frowned, trying to figure out how many hours. And gave up. “A while ago.”
Grant dropped a swift kiss on her forehead before getting out of bed. “Let me get you something. I had the fridge stocked with things.” Opening the door, he glanced over at her. “Are you allergic to anything?”
“Not a thing,” she replied, pulling the sheet over her body.
“Now you get modest?” he commented. “After everything I’ve done to you? Not to forget that billboard and the swimsuit editions the past few years.”
“That’s different,” she protested. “I mean, none of that is personal. Like this is.”
He pulled out a fruit cocktail and a half gallon of milk. Easily, he moved around the tiny kitchen, spooning out the fruit, pouring milk into two glasses and putting everything away. Setting the dishes on a tray, he returned to the bed.
“So, this is personal?” he murmured. “How?”
“Of course, this is personal.” She took the glass of milk from him. “I’m not having sex with everyone who sees my picture. Just you.”
“For now.”
The hurt that flashed in her eyes made him wish he’d left the words unsaid. But he couldn’t say the words he knew would soothe the pain. Pain on top of the humiliation she was already feeling. All he could think of was what he’d vowed so long ago about not letting a woman get too close. Or ever being the target of the paparazzi again.
“For now,” she agreed, nodding slightly.
In silence, she drank the milk and picked up the bowl of fruit. Unable to stand it, he tried to lighten the mood with talk.
“So, what was your favorite subject in college?”
Startled, she looked at him and blushed.
“I took the GED a couple years ago,” she whispered, poking her spoon at the fruit. “The agency signed me when I was sixteen, so I didn’t finish high school. I got good grades, though,” she added quickly, lifting her head and meeting his watchful gaze as if he was questioning her intelligence. “And I’m a voracious reader,” she added with a smile at the multi-syllable word.
“Of the classics?” he asked. “Like the movies?”
She smiled and nodded. He felt relief at finding a safe topic.
“I love Shakespeare, Browning, Austen, Dante, Donne, and…”
“I wouldn’t worry about the high school thing,” he managed, shaking his head. “You might be better read than several people I know with MBAs.”
“Different course of study. Although I am learning about finances and real estate as I invest,” she pointed out. “Oh, and I love to read Little Bear, Harold and the Purple Crayon, and the Very Hungry Caterpillar. Along with all the Dr. Seuss books.”
“Harold and the Caterpillar?” he frowned. “You lost me.”
“I read to Alec. He’s my financial advisor’s son. He’s three and a half and just the smartest little boy.” She beamed. “Before I left for Fiji, he read to me. Green Eggs and Ham. Didn’t miss a word either.” She scooped up the last piece of pineapple. “Lily and Rose were so proud of him.”
“Who?”
“Lily Lexington, she’s my advisor. And Rose Custis.” Swallowing the fruit, she dabbed at the juice that dribbled down her chin. “Rose…”
“I know who Rose is,” he said quietly. Brody’s pain at Rose’s betrayal appeared before him. His friend had gotten so trashed that day that Ben had called on Boone to help get him home. “And Lily. Lily said Alec was Brody’s son. Rose took Lily’s side over her own brother’s.”
“Maybe there’s more to the story than you think,” Francine replied, surprised at the anger in his voice. “Alec looks like he could be Rose’s son. Given that…”
“Any child can have blond hair and blue eyes,” he cut in coldly. “Brody’s quite sure that Lily’s child is another man’s. He wouldn’t say that without absolute certainty.”
Francine felt as if ice water had been poured over her. He wasn’t even going to listen to her. Brody was his friend and that was all there was to it. Lily’s words about the father of her child didn’t matter. And in their situation? She stiffened at the next logical thought and set the bowl firmly on the tray.
“Are you implying that I would try to get pregnant and say it was yours?” She scrambled off the bed before he could move. “What a low opinion you have for women, or is it just me because I’m a model and nothing more than a sex object to you?”
Whirling around, she headed for the door. He was on her in an instant.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded, hands grabbing her upper arms. “What is your problem?”
“Lily’s never asked Brody for a thing,” Francine whispered, shaking her head. Tears came to her eyes at what her friend had been going through. “Never. He hurt her, but instead of lashing out at him, she took care of Rose and Ellie. She did everything she could to keep things quiet.”
“Rose sided against her brother,” he said stubbornly. “Who the hell is Ellie?”
“Because he’s wrong! He won’t…”
“Enough,” he said sharply.
“Lily and Rose are my friends,” she replied with quiet dignity. “And Ellie is a cousin who was affected by what Brody did.”
“Francine, Brody is a good friend of mine. I’ve seen what he went through.” He put two fingers over her lips. “There is probably more to the story than either of us know. Certainly, it’s something they have to work out. Not us,” he emphasized.
She just looked at him warily.
He shook his head. “I don’t think you would do that. Try to trap me or anything else.”
Almost immediately, he felt her resistance lessen beneath his hands. Slowly, half-afraid she would bolt for the door again, he stroked her arms and drew her against him.
Breathing in the sweet smell of her, he felt peace seep into him. Peace? When the hell had he last felt peace? He couldn’t remember, much less figure out why he suddenly felt that way with her. It was a dangerous emotion and he didn’t deal well with emotions. Time to get the damn conversation back to a safer topic. Although, all things considered, how on earth was he supposed have known she’d get so emotional?
“Let’s continue our talk a bit more comfortably,” he suggested.
Picking her up, he carried her to the bed. Taking the tray to the counter, he stretched out beside her and held her. He could feel her body stiffen as he stroked her. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. Women! So damned emotional! And so damn likely to turn cold after an argument in which they’d lost.
“What…” She swallowed and took a deep breath. “What do you like to read? Do you like movies?”
“I will admit to not having picked up a classical work since English lit my freshman year of college,” he drawled, impressed by her determination to move on. “Dickens bores the hell out of me and I had severe problems with the so-called ‘modern’ classics. Most of my library consists of mystery and action thrillers. And every Clancy novel I can get my hands on.”
He felt her relaxing.
“Movies? The rare classic can be bearable. Bogart, of course. I can watch anything he’s in. He’s in a category all by himself. Recent movies?” He smiled. “About the same as my books. I know it’s the elite thing to say you saw this or that indepe
ndent movie that won some film festival award, but they are so full of themselves that…”
“You fall asleep five minutes in?” She grinned.
“If I make it that far.” He nodded. “I guess I’m the stereotypical male in that I like action flicks. The more car crashes and explosions per minute, or hot women, the better.” He caressed her back and cupped her ass cheek. “How about you?”
“Stereotypical female...I love the period pieces with valiant women trying to civilize the men around them.” She smiled. “Although, I do have a weakness for James Bond.”
“Oh, dear God, help me.” He grimaced. “Let me guess. You swooned over the new one coming out of the ocean in his bathing suit.”
“Duh.” She laughed. “I don’t know of any woman who didn’t.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. “You would give him a run for his money,” she murmured. “You want to reenact that scene for me? I can promise a much different ending.”
“I don’t remember how that one ended,” he confessed.
“Mm? Really?” she whispered, stretching out on top of him. She reached out and plucked a condom from the pile on the nightstand. “Well, we can always pretend you’ve already emerged and I’ve pulled the bathing suit off of you…”
“And we managed to not get arrested for indecent exposure and get inside…”
Her mouth covered his and he promptly forgot what they’d been discussing.
He had a hot woman on top of him and she wanted him. Did life get any better than this? Francine sat up, straddling him. Heat in her eyes, she rolled the condom over his cock. Her hands at his base, she positioned her pussy over him. Slowly, she lowered herself over his pulsing erection. Watching the erotic expression on her face, he amended his previous thought. This was the best thing in life. Raising his hands, he fondled her breasts. She arched forward, moaning.
“More,” she breathed.
“Ride me, sweetheart. Ride me hard. I want to watch your face as you come.”
****
