MARRIED TO MY MASTER: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

by Fox, Nicole

  His manhood preceded him as he approached the couch, his purple head pointing straight for her slightly parted lips. He reached down and grabbed her by the shoulder, pulled her up into position, then reached his hand into her hairspray-stiffened hair, with all the beautiful wedding flower woven into it.

  She gazed up at him as he tightened his grip on her hair, the pain delicious as she opened her mouth to receive him. She held her breath, waiting.

  He thrust slowly into her mouth at first, giving her a moment to get used to his size again.

  She swirled her tongue around his head as he pushed into her mouth, filling her entirely. He pulled back each time she gagged, but still he came back on, sliding in and out of her eager lips. She moaned around his shaft, praying that he'd soon begin to play with her, but also knowing that her master would take care of her. He always had in the past, so why would he stop now?

  His heavy balls slapped her chin, and her saliva rolled down her lips, over her makeup.

  “I love the way you look right now, Emily,” he said, stroking her cheek with one hand. “Your lipstick's rubbing off on my cock and your spit's sliding down my balls. I love you right now, Emily. I'll love you always.”

  She closed her eyes, moaning in delight at how happy and excited he sounded. She moved her head faster, taking the reins from him a little and bobbing her own head on his shaft. She sucked him hard, grazing her teeth lightly on the underside.

  He half-groaned, half-growled, with this head thrown back, his hips moving forward faster as he fucked her willing mouth. After just a little bit of that, though, he pulled out from her lips.

  Emily whimpered a little, but not for long.

  Dane grabbed her hips and pulled them out from under her. She fell on to her hands and back, sinking into the thick cushions of the couch, as he dropped to his knees before her and spread her legs. His mouth and tongue found her sex in an instant, his hot breath like dragon fire as he breathed on her. He kissed her inner thigh, his tongue tickling and drawing figures as he wetly moved up to her dripping pussy.

  “Oh, sir,” she moaned between pants. “Oh, please, sir, make me yours. It's been so long since I've felt you down there.”

  His tongue began in long laps, stroking up and down her lips, parting them with each lashing.

  She groaned as he found her clit, teasing it gently before sucking first one pouty lip into his mouth, then another. Soon, though, her head was lolling back and forth, her moans filling the big empty house as she thrust her hips into his mouth. His tongue focused on worrying away at her clit, a spot just above and around the sides, as he slipped two rough fingers within her.

  He hooked them and found her g-spot quickly with the pads of his fingers.

  The flame inside her stoked higher as pleasure replaced all her senses. She grunted and groaned out her pleasure, her hips moving and thrusting as she cried out his name. Already, she was close, and he knew it. God, she hoped he wouldn't make her wait. “Please sir,” she whined. “Can I cum already? Please?”

  He took his lips away. “Just this one time. But only because you've been such a good girl so far.” He grabbed one of her legs and hooked it back over his shoulder, then immediately went back to worrying her little nub and her most sensitive spot.

  Almost on cue, she felt her release building and her capacity for pleasure being pushed to the limit. She cried out, her body buckling under the wave that washed over her. Suddenly, she was thrashing on the prim and proper couch like a dirty slut under her master's tongue, and she silently prayed it would be like this for the rest of her life.

  He smiled between her legs as she continued to spasm, her body flooding over his lips. He kept licking and kept his fingers going, as he pushed her into another, and another, until her body was almost spent already.

  She felt herself almost collapse under the waves of pleasure and pain, her arms sore behind her back as she crushed them into the cushions.

  Dane rose from between her legs. He lowered his lips to hers as his hand grabbed a nipple and twisted hard, pulling it away from her firm, shapely breast. The smell of her own sex filled her nose, and it made her want to feel and taste his kiss all the more.

  The mix of pleasure and pain, both so intense and so sharp, were a wicked cocktail, almost as lovely as the one she'd experienced back in the hotel room when he'd first arrived. She opened her mouth to him willingly, purring like a spoiled cat as she sucked his tongue into her mouth, swirling her own around it. She yelped a little, her body feeling a little aftershock of orgasm as he pinched her nipple hard again, just like before.

  He pulled his lips back from hers, then picked her up bodily once more.

  She kept her mouth shut, knowing that, wherever her master was about to put her, she'd be put to good use by him.

  He turned her around and dropped her on the couch on her knees, so her sex was on full display for him and her face was pushed into the cushions. He slid the head of his cock up and down her full, spread lips from behind as he grabbed her hair. “You're mine now. Do you understand that?”

  She nodded frantically, wanting to make him happy. “Yes, sir,” she said. “Of course, sir.”

  “Good,” he said, as he slid his cock into her.

  The feeling of fullness she'd never been able to experience with Ian came back like a wave of relief. She sighed and moaned, biting her lip at the pleasure-pain as Dane filled her from behind, his manhood pushing her to her limits. “Oh, God, sir, I'd forgotten how wonderful you were.”

  He slapped her ass, hard, forcing a startled cry of pain from her lips. “Don't ever forget it again,” he said, spanking her hard another time, and another, as he continued to ease his cock into her.

  She pushed back into him, her legs coiled beneath her, biting her lip so hard she almost drew blood. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she cried out again as she struggled against the tape binding her hands. “Oh, sir, please, more.”

  He spanked her harder, creating claps of thunder.

  She bucked under his strikes, moaning with the sensory overload and with all the mixes of stimulation. The pleasure flooded her body, sending her extremities tingling, even as her behind and thighs cried out in screaming agony that was too delicious to ignore. She came again, her eyes squeezed so tightly tears ran down her face.

  As he fucked her from behind, Dane reached down and began to tear the bonds from her wrists. Duct tape tore laterally like that, she had quickly learned, with the right kind of pressure. No knives or scissors were needed. “Up, and grasp the back of the couch,” he growled, a rough hand pulling her head from the cushions by her done-up hair.

  She pushed back into his cock as she rose from the couch, her hands finding the back of the cushions.

  She realized why he want her in that position as he pulled her closer against from behind, his hands grasping and massaging her full breasts, his teeth biting cruelly into her shoulders and neck.

  She arched into his arms as his fingers tweaked and pinched her nipples, as they pulled them from her and twisted them hard. She groaned as he raked his blunt nails across her stomach, leaving red claw marks to mar her creamy white complexion.

  “Is this what you want?” he growled in her ear, as his pelvis slammed into her ass from behind. “Do you want to be used and tortured every time you fuck your master? Tell me now, so I can hear you scream it while I fill you.”

  “Yes, sir,” she groaned, her knees going weak.

  “Louder,” he growled, his hips slamming into her, pushing the couch into the wall so hard they might have to replace the drywall when it was all said and done. “I want the neighbors to hear how much you want it.”

  “YES SIR!”

  Then he was pulling her head back by her hair, his fingers twisting cruelly and painfully as his other hand covered her throat. He began to pound into her faster than before, like a jackhammer.

  “Oh, Emily, I love you!” he shouted as he began to fill her with his seed, his hips not slowing for a
moment as he bit down hard on her shoulder.

  She screamed as she came one last time, her whole body going loose as a wet noodle. If Dane hadn't been holding her in his burly arms, she would have collapsed right there on the couch, forcing him to pound her into the cushions again while he finished.

  His rod deflated and slipped from her with a loud noise, and Emily blushed. Of all the things they'd done together, and that she’d enjoyed, she realized that was what embarrassed her.

  She was weary all over, and so wonderfully sore and pleasured. Her body ached, but she realized she could go all day with him if she needed to. Still kneeling on the couch, Emily turned around in his arms, threw her own around his neck and pulled his lips to meet hers.

  They kissed like soulmates and long lost lovers who had been apart for too many months.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered back, as their mouths parted. “I love you more than you'll ever know.”

  And that was when the doorbell rang.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Emily

  She looked back to the front door, shocked. Then she remembered how she and Dane had ended up here, and all the shenanigans her man had gotten into when he was getting her from the hotel.

  “Hand me your shirt,” she said to Dane.

  “What do you say?” he asked, grinning down at her.

  She licked her lips and smiled. “Please, sir?”

  He reached down, grabbed his dress shirt off the ground, and handed it to her as the doorbell rang again and a heavy fist pounded on the door. “Emily!” called Ian's voice. “Emily! Are you in there?”

  “Put some clothes on, Dane,” she hissed, as she frantically buttoned up her shirt, then hopped down off the couch. She padded into the front entryway with the shirt covering just the tops of her thighs. “Coming,” she called, before looking back over her shoulder to see her man pulling on his slacks and undershirt.

  She unlocked the door and threw it open, stepping back from the bright sun that seemed to form a halo around both Jas and Ian. “Hi,” she said, her lips pressed tightly together.

  Ian and Jas stood there, faces agog at her disheveled and freshly-fucked appearance. Ian still wore his perfectly tailored tuxedo they'd purchased for just this occasion, and Jas had stayed in her bridesmaid outfit, as purple as it was. Neither of them said anything, clearly too stunned by the mess Emily had become in just the short hour since she'd been pulled from the bridal suite.

  Her face burned with embarrassment, even as her ass still burned from Dane's hard spanking he'd delivered. She knew her throat was probably red, too. God, if they could see the bruises on her shoulders and breasts, they'd think she'd been mauled by a wild animal. Which, she supposed, she kind of had been.

  “Come in, will you?” she asked graciously, as she stepped aside, giving them space to pass.

  “What in the hell?” Ian finally said, as he came in. “Just, Jesus, Emily, what in the fucking hell is going on? Where the hell have you been? We're supposed to be married by now!”

  She didn't have any words for him. Not yet. Emily sighed and looked away, her tiny foot tapping.

  “Emily?” Jas asked.

  She turned her attention to her executive assistant, and friend, shooting her a “not you, too” look.

  Jas gestured to the belly of her shirt, drawing Emily's attention downwards. Emily went crimson as she realized she'd missed a couple buttons down there. It wasn’t enough to show everything, but more than was necessary to see the scarlet claw marks from Dane's work-blunted nails. She busily began to button her shirt. “Ian,” she said as she completed dressing, her voice reflecting how sad she felt for hurting him, “I'm really sorry, but this isn't working out.”

  Ian shook his head and wiped a hand down his face. “And this,” he asked as he began gesticulating wildly towards the outside world. “This is how you tell me? When my friends and family have all flown in for our wedding?”

  Emily's frown deepened as she shook her head. “I'm just …I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done this to you, but I was trying to make it work, and I just can't. You and I, we don't love each other the way you deserve, Ian. You deserve some woman who's going to be head over heels in love with you, and is going to hang on your every word.”

  Her, now ex-fiancé’s face dropped. “Y-y-you didn't?”

  Emily made a face and shook her head. “I'm so sorry.” She smiled at him, trying to be as gentle as possible. “But, you're a great guy. And you'll find that special someone for you. I know you will.”

  He just looked at her, then sighed and looked away. “Just . . . fuck it. Whatever, Emily.” He turned and walked away, but stopped just outside the front door. “Jas, I'll be in the car if you need a ride back to the hotel for your clothes.”

  Both women watched him go, pained looks on their faces. Jas quickly swung her attention back to Emily. “Oh my God, Em, you look like a porn star. You slut.”

  Emily stifled a laugh with her hand, but still grinned knowingly at her friend. “I know.”

  “And on your wedding day? Jesus.”

  “Jas,” Emily said after a moment of calming down, “I need you to do me a huge favor again. Bigger even than being my maid of honor.”

  “Oh, God,” Jas replied, clearly knowing where this was headed. “You want me to . . .?”

  “Please?” Emily cajoled. “I'll love you for life if you tell everyone for me.”

  Her assistant rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she huffed. “Fine, whatever. I'd kiss your cheek and wish you happiness, but I don't know where you, or Dane, have been.”

  “I'd hug you,” Emily said with a laugh, “but you're probably right. It's for the best that I don't.”

  Jas headed out the front door. She turned around just as she was about to close it, mouthing the words “slut” one more time at her boss.

  “That went better than it probably should have,” Dane said, as he came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist and his fingers through the opening in her shirt.

  “Mmhmm,” Emily agreed as he brushed her neck with his lips.

  “But, as well as it went,” Dane whispered in her ear as he grabbed her by both arms, “I still have some talking to do with you.”

  # # #

  Dane

  “No, really,” Dane said, as he yanked her back down the hall toward the bedroom, “I do.” He shut the door behind him them as he tossed her on the bed. “Look,” he began. “I love you. I've loved you since the first moment I tried to break you, and you just bent and bent. Like when you spat in my face, or taunted me as I trying to prove how weak you were.”

  Emily went to say something, but Dane hushed her. “Let me finish,” he said. “You have such an unbreakable spirit, Emily West. An indomitable will, poise, self-assurance, and confidence. But, still, you can admit that not even you know everything, and that you're sometimes wrong. You can face your mistakes and the truth that you made them, then own up and try to fix them. I know I can't offer you the same kind of life Ian could. I'm never going to contribute to your way of life financially, like he could, but I want to be the man you come home to after a hard day at the office. I want to be that man for you.”

  Emily beamed at him as he spoke.

  He swallowed hard, more terrified of this than any sortie he'd flown over Iraq back in the war. He dropped to one knee in front of her and took her tiny hands in his. “I want to be the man who builds a life beside you, together, as equals. I know you want a career, and I want you to have one, too. I'd never take that from you, or try to lock you up in the house all day. I love you, Emily West. You're my match, and I'm yours. I just know it.”

  “Are you . . . ?” she asked.

  “Am I?” he asked, before swallowing again and nodding. “Yeah, of course I am. Of course I'm asking.”

  She took one hand from his and touched his cheek. “Then ask.”

  “Would you marry me, Emily West?”

  Emily leaned forward and kissed him, her lips lik
e lines of burning hot coals as they pressed into his. She bit his lips hard, producing a sharp groan from him as she flicked her tongue across his. She pulled back, both of them gasping, and rested her forehead on his. “Of course, Dane Bishop. That would make me the happiest woman alive.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine