At His Mercy (Masters Club 1)

“Jess,” he breathed, staring down at her with a burning gaze, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

“Cameron,” she whispered in reply. Tears filled her eyes, not of sorrow, but of stunned joy. Was she asleep and dreaming? If so, she never wanted to wake.

Pleasure mounted inexorably as he swiveled and thrust, their bodies perfectly positioned to create the friction at her clit she needed to go over the edge. He let go of one wrist, sliding his hand down between them.

He somehow managed to press his fingers against her swollen clit while still continuing to move inside her. She exploded in a series of small spasms, a deep shudder moving through her body as it prepared for release.

“Oh, god,” she moaned.

“Beg me,” he panted. “Beg me for permission to come, sub girl.”

The words, and the underlying suggestion behind them—that he was claiming her for his own—thrilled Jess to the marrow.

“Please,” she gasped, hanging on by a thread as his fingers and cock drew her closer and closer. “Please, Sir. Please, Master Cameron. May I come, Sir?”

“Yes,” he cried, suddenly tensing above her for a moment before thrusting hard inside her. Their shared orgasm seemed to go on forever, their bodies locked together in a passionate embrace.

They finally fell apart, hearts thumping, bodies slicked with sweat, both still panting. A feeling of deep calm moved over Jess, and just beneath it a rising euphoria.

She didn’t realize she’d closed her eyes until she felt Cameron’s fingers gently stroking the hair from her face. Opening her eyes, she turned to him. He was smiling at her, but his eyes still glittered with lust and power.

“Don’t even think about falling asleep,” he said, a smile twitching at his lips. “We’re just getting started.

Chapter 23

They made love for hours, some of it sweet and tender, some of it hard, sweaty and intense. Cameron never wanted to let her go. He no longer cared about their age difference, or the fact she worked at the same firm, or his own now broken promise to himself to never, ever fall in love.

All he wanted was Jess. He loved everything about her. The way her hair smelled like honeysuckle, the way her cunt smelled like ginger and rainwater. He loved the softness of her skin and the way her nipples hardened in his mouth. He loved her soft cries of erotic pain when he smacked her bared cunt, and the way she came so hard moments later when he licked away the pain.

They dozed on and off between bouts of love making, sleep sometimes claiming them in mid-kiss. They would reawaken in a tangle of limbs, and for a moment Cameron wouldn’t know where he was or who he was with. Then he would see the lovely woman sprawled beside him, her long curls wild on the pillow, her face smudged with sleep. His heart would leap with awe and wonder that she was there, in his bed, in his arms, at last.

Dawn was just creeping into the room, casting it in a pinkish, gold light, when Cameron woke again. As he turned to regard Jess, he saw that she, too, was awake. “Hey,” he said softly. “How you doing?”

“Sore,” she said with a rueful laugh as she placed her hand between her legs. “But a good sore.”

He grinned, placing his own hand over his now flaccid cock. “You’re lucky I’m an old man, or I’d take you again, right now.”

She lifted onto one elbow and wrinkled her nose. “You’re not old, Cameron. You’re barely ten years older than me. And don’t forget, women mature much faster than men, so in a way, we’re the same age. I might even be a little older than you.”

Cameron laughed. “Now you sound like an attorney, using convoluted reasoning based on unproven suppositions to make your case.”

She laughed too, and then yawned. She lifted her arms over her head in a languorous stretch. “I know it’s barely light out and we’ve had like no sleep, but I’m wide awake. Not to mention, starving. That was quite a workout you put me through all night long, old man,” she teased.

Cameron, too, was wide awake. He felt energized, happiness taking the place of sleep, at least for the moment. “How about I order room service? What do you want for breakfast?”

“One of everything,” Jess replied with a grin.

Cameron lifted the receiver on the hotel phone. “This is room”—he placed his hand over the mouthpiece—“What’s the room number?”

“Five sixteen.”

“Room five sixteen. We’d like to order some breakfast. We’ll have two orders of scrambled eggs and bacon, plus a basket of croissants, two glasses of ice water, two large glasses of orange juice and a pot of coffee. Bring real cream, please. Not half and half. Oh, and how about some fruit? Maybe a couple of bananas and some mango, if you’ve got it. And maybe a few pastries. Whatever looks good.”