Playing Hard to Master (Masters Unleashed 2)

“Why bother having a mansion if you’re not home to use it?” She shook her head. “Another reason why rich people are so weird.”

“Yeah.” He sighed deeply, then a twinkle appeared in his eye. “You had fun today. Admit it.”

Going for nonchalant, she said, “It was okay.”

“Just okay?” He scoffed. “I could hear you giggling all the way down the

hill.”

So it’d been a little more than just okay. Despite the cold, he’d made her feel like a kid again. For once, she didn’t care how she looked, who was watching, how hard she laughed. They just let loose and had fun, like they were fucking five years old. It was sort of . . . amazing.

“Maybe so.” She reached her foot out toward him, and he caught it between his hands. “But now you owe me. We had your fun. When do I get to have mine?”

“Be patient, little girl.”

Purposefully, she pushed her bottom lip out into a pout, and he laughed.

“Bad girl. Be careful or I’ll lose patience and fuck you right here.”

“Ew.” She grimaced. “Not in your friend’s hot tub. That’s skeevy.”

“On that chair, then,” he said, pointing to the spot where she’d danced for him weeks ago. “I thought you wanted your dozens of orgasms.”

“Dozens? I don’t think it was dozens.” He’d sand her clit off if he gave her dozens. “Even I can’t get off that many times, and I’m pretty damn good at multiples.”

“I noticed.” He winked.

Feeling bratty, she pushed. “Besides, I doubt you’re skilled enough to give me dozens.”

As she’d guessed, his brow arched. “You sure you want to go there, brat?”

“You’re good, but I don’t know if you’re that good.”

Before she had time to react, he pounced. She squealed as he picked her up out of the tub and leaned her over the edge. Fighting was no use—he pinned her down on the cold tile and held her wrists at the small of her back. Her ass was on full display.

Now she was fucked.

She turned her head so he couldn’t see her smile.

“You didn’t expect to get away with insulting me, did you?” With his free hand, he yanked down her wet panties—which she’d insisted on wearing into the hot tub. “Not smart, brat. Your ass is wet and already warm. This is gonna hurt.”

At that, a flurry of smacks rained down on her poor ass, making her squirm and yelp.

Fuck. She hadn’t thought through the wet-butt part. She kicked and connected with him a few times, but it only made him hit harder. She couldn’t stop laughing though. It was the wrong reaction, because he grunted and kept going, but she couldn’t help it.

It hurt, but it was still playful. “Stop!” she cried out, trying to contain her giggles. “Stop! Please!”

He did, then pulled up her underwear. “What do you have to say for yourself, girl?”

Turning her head, she gave him a teasing look. “You are the Lord of the Orgasms, Sir. Your fingers are as big as sausages and give me much pleasure.”

His booming laugh echoed in the pool room. Then he released her hands and scooped her up into his arms. “You’re lucky you’re so funny.”

She squirmed in his arms until she could wrap her legs around his waist and kiss him. He took his time, heating her more than the warm water did. She ground her pelvis against him, feeling her clit swell and beg for attention.

Then he pulled back and stared at her—like she was something worth staring at it. After surviving high school, she’d developed a sense of confidence, but something about Ambrose made her feel fluttery and vulnerable. Not in a bad way—he made her feel sexy, too—but vulnerable, like she was a lamb and he was the hungry wolf about to eat her.

And right now, that sounded pretty good.