Masters at Arms - By Kallypso Masters Page 0,40

tilt her hips toward him, allowing him deeper access. “Fuck me, Master! Fuck me harder!”

He thrust until he felt his own explosion nearing. He purposely pictured her in bed with Gino to delay his own orgasm. “Come, now!” As she went over the top, he felt her vagina clenching his cock. He needed to hold out a little longer. He wasn’t finished with her yet.

“Oh, God! Ohhh, Marco, yesssss! Don’t stop!”

He leaned over her, continuing to stroke her clit even after her spasms had ended. She tried to move her pelvis to evade his fingers on her oversensitive clit.

“Come again.”

“No, Marco. I can’t.”

“Twice you have addressed me as Marco without using my proper title. You owe me two more orgasms.” They’d negotiated orgasm torture before, but broke up before they’d tried it. “I. Said. Come. Again.” He ground the words out against her ear. With her body restrained under his, he stroked her clit harder, faster. She couldn’t escape the pressure he applied. She was trapped.

Just as he was.

Trapped.

“Oh, my God! I’m coming! Oh, shit!” She bucked wildly against him, clenching his cock as another orgasm wracked her body, this one seeming to be more intense than the last. He’d been taught never to promise a sub something and not deliver, but delaying his own orgasm was hell.

He let her breathing slow a bit, then touched her clit again.

“Oh, God, don’t! Please, Mar…Master. Enough!”

His fingers stilled. “Do you wish to say your safe word?”

She paused, gasping for breath, then shook her head. He pulled her hair away from her face so he could judge whether she could take another one. He began stroking her clit again. Her cheeks were wet from tears, but her mouth panted as she let the sensations build again. Her mewling sounds told him she wasn’t in pain. Not that pain was necessarily a bad thing in Melissa’s book of needs.

He stroked her harder. Her screams became incoherent as she bucked against him.

“Open your eyes.”

She did as he ordered. He pinched her clit again, then stood up and rammed her with his cock.

“Oh, shit! Oh, Master, please! No more!”

Again and again, he thrust himself inside her, demanding more than he ever had before. He took perverse pleasure in making something so desired feel like a punishment. Not unlike his feeling of being trapped at this resort, staring at the mountains every day and knowing he couldn’t walk away from that god-damned desk and enjoy them as he had before Gino had joined the Marines.

He reached down and stroked her clit again as he neared his own climax.

“Oh, ohhh, ohhhhhh, yes! Yes, please! Don’t stop!” Her body convulsed beneath him as she experience her third orgasm in just a few minutes.

Marc found himself breathing hard, as well. He pumped harder, faster. The release he felt as his semen spurted from him caused his legs to go weak. But he continued to pound her pussy until the last spasm of his cock and her vagina ceased. He pulled out immediately and staggered on weakened legs to the bathroom where he disposed of the condom, washed himself off, then got a clean washcloth and wet it with warm water for her.

He looked into the mirror over the vanity. The disgust he saw written on his face brought him to a standstill. Surprisingly, he wasn’t disgusted with Melissa, but with himself.

What the fuck was he doing?

He needed to get away—from Melissa, from the resort, from his family.

Far enough away to find himself.

Before this place totally consumed his soul.

* * *

Christmas Day 2003, Aspen, Colorado

“You’ve what?” Mama turned red. All conversation at the dinner table came to an abrupt halt, quite a feat at a large Italian family gathering. Marc felt the scrutiny of every set of eyes at the table, but most especially Mama’s. And Melissa’s.

“I’ve joined the Navy.” Marc repeated.

“How could you do such a thing?” Mama’s voice rose an octave. “Hasn’t this family given enough already?”

Marc met his mother’s gaze. “Exactly why I need to do this.”

In part, at least. If Marc could play some part in the victory over Al Qaeda and the Taliban, Gino would not have died in vain. He’d even passed the test to train as a hospital corpsman. Maybe he could help keep someone else from dying, so he or she could return home to loved ones.

He glanced over at Melissa, whose face was redder than Mama’s. If looks could kill, he’d need a corpsman of his own. Why had Mama invited her