The Master (The Game Maker 2)

I would take another shower--and manually take the edge off. When I returned inside, each step made my breasts move against the T-shirt, the material skimming over the hard peaks.

He remained on the couch. Leaning over the coffee table, he rifled through papers. When I entered, he stilled, saying nothing.

Just looking at his gorgeous face made my breath hitch. I traipsed past him, in a daze. Whatever he saw in my expression made his body tense, his nostrils flare.

I gazed away, couldn't meet his eyes.

A dark laugh. "Now who's been replaying what we did? It's gotten you as wet as I was hard. But I warn you now, little girl, do not pleasure yourself--even to thoughts of me--or there will be consequences."

To thoughts of him? The nerve!

"You'll follow two rules when you're with me. You do not lie, and you do not touch yourself. Unless I've commanded you to for my entertainment."

I whirled around. "Such ego! How do you know I wasn't imagining another man? My partner? Also, be aware that anyone who's ever tried to 'command' me has failed miserably." I left him, heading for my room.

In the shower, I kept seeing him in my fantasies. He was right--if I got off, it would be to thoughts of him. I refused! Ignoring all the aching parts of my body, I washed and dried off.

I stole another T-shirt of his, then climbed up into the guest bed, turning on the TV. Though years had passed since I'd watched it, I stared blankly at the screen as a night's worth of memories returned.

The way he'd thrown back his head and roared as he'd ejaculated inside me.

The addictive taste of his cum.

The possessive way he'd licked my pussy, as if someone was about to take his favorite treat away and never give it back.

With a curse, I surrendered to my lust, bunching the shirt to my waist as my hand dipped. I was arching to my fingers when I heard: "You really are in heat, aren't you?"

CHAPTER 16

Mierda!

"Couldn't hold out?" He knelt on the bed and seized my wrist. "If you have these needs, you call for me." He brought my hand to his mouth to suck my middle and forefinger between his lips.

As he licked them, he closed his eyes. I shook from sensation, feeling each pull of his mouth in my nipples and core. Could I come like this? I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, that this wasn't part of the deal. But those memories . . .

He took my wet fingers and returned them between my legs. "Pet yourself."

I hesitated until he peeled off his shirt and opened the fly of his jeans, his dick proudly jutting, hard as steel. The tip was moist, taunting my tongue.

Game over. I had to experience him just one more time. My fingers got busy.

When he was naked, he started jacking that thick shaft as I masturbated faster. His big fist. His huge cock.

"You like to watch?"

I nodded breathlessly.

"I might let you later. For now, I want more of your taste."

Grabbing my ankles, he yanked me across the bed. "Spread your legs." When I did, he stared at my pussy. "This is mine now." He met my gaze, telling me, "I own it. Just as I own you. I'm your master now, Katya."

How could that arouse me so much? I was independent, not about to be owned--

He buried his face between my legs, groaning against my lips.

"Ruso!" Even as my knees fell wide, my gaze locked on his length, on the bead glistening atop that plump crown. "I need your taste too."

"You want to suck me?"

"Yes!"

Another dark laugh. He maneuvered around to kneel above me, aiming his shaft to my mouth.

Though I'd never sixty-nined before, I eagerly parted my lips for him, tonguing the tip. He continued kissing me so sensuously, but I had to lift my head to get any of his length. Why wouldn't he give me more? "Mas, Ruso."

"You said you've never taken a cock deep," he rasped between licks. "You want your fantasy?"

"I don't know. . . . Maybe I could try?"

He released me, then moved to stand beside the bed. He pulled me bodily until my head hung back off the edge of the mattress. Then he stepped over me, positioning my head between his muscular thighs. With the height of the bed, this put his cock and heavy balls just above me.

"Maxim?"

As he guided his shaft down to my open lips, he said, "Take breaths between my thrusts."

Que?

He fed his cock into my mouth, then cupped his hands behind my neck.

Oh! I knew this position. Ivanna had called it the "throat swab." Like this, his dick slid in at a much better angle. Deeper than I'd ever taken one.

But when the crown went too far, I tensed at the sensation, jerking back. My legs drew up defensively.

He pulled out. "Relax, dushen'ka. You can take me," he said, and he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

For some reason, that random touch--amid all the dirty sex of the last twenty-four hours--affected me so much. When he sank in once more, I ordered my body to relax.

"Good. That's it." He pulled out. "Breathe." Once I'd inhaled, he slowly thrust again.

We did that twice more, with his hands cradling my neck. His thumbs lightly rubbed my throat, guiding me, coaxing . . . until the crown breached deep.

I was doing it! This way was so much easier! Or was it because of the man?

"You're deep-throating me, Katya." He sounded proud, which messed with my mind--and aroused me to a frenzy. I moaned around him.

"Taking it so good." He withdrew, widening his stance. "Breathe."

I inhaled, greedy for more. On his next thrust, I swallowed him even deeper, reaching behind me to grip the muscles of his ass. Soon we had a perfect rhythm between his thrusts and my breaths, in sync again.

"Take it . . . take it . . . such a good girl . . ." He was teaching me, praising me, and I grew ravenous for him. "My cum will shoot straight into you."

I moaned again.

"You like this. I can feel your moans as well as hear them. Breathe, baby."

I dimly remembered a trick Ivanna had told me drove some men crazy. As my throat received Sevastyan and my hands cupped his ass, I dipped my fingers between his cheeks.

"Dushen'ka?" In a hoarse voice, he said, "Are you going to be wicked with me?"

I circled my forefinger at his center. To the sound of his groans, I prodded and prodded.

I penetrated--

"Uhhhn!" His mighty thighs quaked around my ears. "You're taking my cum before I'm ready!"

I moaned again, and he bellowed, "Katya!" Against my tongue, his shaft began to pump. With a growl, he fucked my mouth, shooting creamy torrents inside me.

I drank while his thumbs helped his cum down my throat, his grip on my neck possessive but . . . tender.

Then came a last shudder. A final spurt of hot seed.

A long ragged groan . . .

He pulled out of my mouth, drawing away to return to the other side of the bed. Between breaths, he said, "Now it's your turn." Again, he seized an ankle and dragged me to him. As he leaned down, his harsh exhalations heated my jutting clitoris, my swollen lips, and the sensitive opening between. "You're already on the verge. Deep-throating me got your pussy even wetter? Or maybe you liked exploring your master's body? Ask permission to come."

Despite my need, I wasn't going to obey. "Can I come"--I bucked up, offering myself--"is what I'm supposed to say. But don't you want to make me orgasm?"

Accent thick, he said, "I'll punish you for that later. You want me to, don't you? For now, I'm going to lick your needy little clit." He lashed it with his tongue--once, twice, three times--and I screamed as my climax began.

Coiled tension exploded. I fisted the sheets and thrashed my head. Mouth hot and tongue hungry, he forced my aching pussy to contract again and again. . . .

He kept kissing me. Too sensitive! Too much! I had to twist my hips before he released me.

He sat on the bed and collected me in his arms. Claiming my lips, he gave me my taste, taking his o

wn, our tongues lazily twining.

I was soon primed for round two, but he drew back. He affectionately tucked a curl behind my ear, making me sigh. "You just sucked me off, and you didn't negotiate a price. I think you're beginning to like me."

"Pendejo!" I disentangled myself from his arms.

"Should I start a 'donation' tab?"

"Besame el culo!" I stormed into the bathroom. Inside, I gazed at my reflection, attempting to process what had just happened.

I'd never felt safer with a man--or cheaper. How could he be so tender, so praising? Then so cruel? Everything with him was an extreme. The pleasure was extreme.

As was my love life. Between my two lovers, I'd gone from "I plan to murder you at my earliest convenience" to "I own you."

The latter of which aroused me insanely. Why? Why? Why?