Masters at Arms - By Kallypso Masters Page 0,39
against the dark-gray granite countertop. Her hand snaked out to grab his cock through his pants. She couldn’t suppress a moan, apparently disappointed to find she hadn’t given him an erection despite her blatant attempts.
“Marco, please. It’s always been so good between us.” She stroked him and he felt his long-neglected cock responding.
He spun around and grabbed her shoulders, wanting to push her away. Her pupils dilated. Damn her. If she wanted to be controlled, he could accommodate her.
He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and guided her back into the living room. She stumbled on the stilettos and he steadied her. Maybe it wasn’t that she was drunk, just that she couldn’t walk on those damned five-inch heels.
When they reached the tan-colored leather sofa, he pushed her hips against the armrest and eased her torso over until her head was on the seat cushion and her ass high in the air. She turned her head and looked back at him, smiling.
“Hard, Sir. Give it to me hard.”
Marc knew he’d hate himself later for letting her top him like this, but right now, he needed to blow off some steam. His life was so damned fucked up. He hated his job, but knew he couldn’t leave it. He owed the family that much. But being cooped up behind a desk all day was killing him. He hadn’t been out on the slopes since Gino enlisted.
Managing the resort was killing him by degrees.
He went to the bedroom to grab his toy bag and returned to Melissa, who waited patiently for him to begin. God help him, if she didn’t look good to him, draped over the armrest, waiting to be spanked. Well, he wasn’t in the mood for an over-the-knee spanking tonight. Too intimate. He reached into the bag and pulled out his riding crop.
When she saw it, he saw her butt cheeks clench. Her mouth fell open as she sucked air into her lungs.
“What’s your safe word, Melissa?”
“Cherry, Master Marco.”
“Use it if you need it.”
Whack.
The flat leather tip came down on her right cheek and she gasped. He watched as the red mark appeared on her olive-colored skin.
Whack.
Again on the left cheek. Normally, he would have rubbed her ass cheeks before beginning a spanking. He would have planned the scene and gotten his head in the zone, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess tonight. Not that Melissa would notice or care.
He delivered four more whacks in quick succession, alternating cheeks.
“Oh, God, yes!” She moaned.
Damn her for liking it, too. “Quiet!” The next blows fell to her upper thighs. One leg kicked out at him, nearly hitting him in the groin.
“Keep your legs down!”
She put her feet back on the floor. “Sorry, Sir.”
The next eight blows reddened her ass nicely. Dio, he didn’t like taking his pleasure when angry, but his cock throbbed at the sight. He needed to find release. He’d given her plenty of warning, if she wasn’t looking for sex tonight, but Melissa had never run cold on him before and he didn’t think she would this time. He reached into the bag and pulled out a condom package. Placing the riding crop on top of his bag, he tore open the foil packet.
“Yes, Master. Give me that big cock.”
“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” He ground the words out between his teeth as he sheathed himself. He most definitely didn’t give her permission to speak in porn-flick script lines either. Standing behind her, he reached down to stroke his fingers between her folds. Wet. He spread the moisture to encircle her clit, which protruded from its hood. Her ass bucked and tilted toward him. “Mmm.” He rammed two fingers inside her and she moaned, but didn’t speak.
Unable to wait any longer, he positioned himself behind her, held her ample hips with his hands, and thrust himself inside.
“Oh my God, Master!”
Ignoring her, he battered against her, his balls slapping against her pussy. He nearly pulled out of her, then pushed her legs open wider and slammed into her again.
“Sweet, Jesus! I need to come so badly, Marco!”
“Silence! You do not have permission to come yet.” He continued to pound her pussy, then reached down and took her clit between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed hard. She bucked against him. “Oh, God! Oh, God! Please, Marco!”
“How do you address me?”
“Master Marco, please. I can’t wait any longer!”
“But you will.”
“Ohhh! Oh, yes!” As little as she could move with him confining her, she still managed to