I Married a Master

by Melanie Marchande

  It was shockingly intimate, for a man I hadn't even planned on kissing tonight. Let alone this. I realized that until moments ago, we'd never even kissed for real, not in private - but every kiss we'd shared in public had more meaning than we'd wanted to admit.

  I was spiraling out of control already. It was almost embarrassing, the way my body had responded so quickly to him, so relentlessly captivated by everything he did. But I didn't even know how I could have hidden it. There was no artifice. With the first impact of his hand on my ass, he'd lit a fire under me that I'd never be able to forget.

  Thrashing and moaning, I tried to keep myself still underneath him. But it was impossible. With his face buried between my legs, all I could do was hold on for the ride.

  The man knew what he was doing. I had to give him that. He stopped for just long enough to lick his lips and whisper, "tell me when you're about to come. Talk me through it. I want to know."

  I nodded breathlessly, and he went back to his task. I didn't know why, but something about his request just pushed me higher, until I could feel the inevitable tremors begin.

  "Mr. Chase," I moaned, "I'm about to..."

  He made a soft, encouraging sound as his tongue continued its movements.

  "I'm..." I panted, struggling to find words. "Oh, God. Ben, I'll..."

  I froze. As my inner muscles twitched and tightened, I felt a gush. There was just no other word for it. I couldn't stop it, couldn't do a damn thing about it - and with his relentless tongue continuing to suck and swirl, in spite of the fact that I must have just soaked his face with my juices, there was no stopping what came next.

  So I just kept talking, like he'd asked. "I'll come if you keep doing that. You're going to make me..."

  My heart almost stopped.

  "Come," I gasped, as my world shattered. His tongue was perfect, he was perfect, coaxing me through it. I came and came, my body jerking and shivering and finally collapsing, only the counter still holding me upright.

  He stood quickly, grabbing me by the waist and spinning me around.

  "Fuck." I was still catching my breath, but my face flamed with embarrassment. I didn't know what the hell just happened to me, but I knew it wasn't exactly normal. At least, not for me. "I'm sorry."

  "You're sorry?" He shook his head, bewildered. "For what?"

  "That," I said, staring at his face while he swiped his sleeve across his chin. "I, um..."

  He was smiling - the built-in smug was back. Well, fuck me.

  "Stick with me, I'll give you all kinds of new experiences," he drawled, pulling my body tightly against his. "You ever tasted yourself on a man's tongue before?"

  "Of course." My face was still burning.

  "Not like this, you haven't."

  His kiss was fervent, possessive, and yes - unlike anything I'd felt before. I clung to him, wanting to somehow absorb all the things that made him irresistible.

  Still drunk on pleasure, I slipped my hand around to his front, trying unsuccessfully to find the pull of his zipper. He sucked in a breath as I gave up and just closed my hand around his stiff length.

  I swallowed hard, still not knowing all the rules.

  "Can I..." I started, trailing off as my courage waned.

  "Can you...?" he encouraged, with a smile.

  "You know," I insisted, my voice wavering almost to a whisper.

  "Do I?" he teased. "I can't give you what you want unless you use your words."

  All kinds of filthy phrases ran through my head, but I was suddenly so timid. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just put what I wanted into words?

  His patience was wearing thin.

  "You want me in your mouth, sweetheart?" he murmured. His hand lifted my chin, his thumb parting my lips and silently asking for entrance. "Show me. Show me what you want to do."

  Obediently, I sucked and swirled, lavishing his thumb with the attention he so badly needed elsewhere.

  "Good," he said at last, breathless, pulling his hand away. "Get on your knees, I'll let you have a taste."

  He was long and thick, and throbbing-hard, so much pent up desire, and I wanted all of it. Every single drop belonged to me.

  When I took him in my mouth, he let out a long, heavy sigh. His eyes fluttered closed, but he opened them again, looking down at me. His fingers toyed absently with my hair.

  "I always knew you'd look so perfect like this." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, heavily. "But it's better than I imagined."

  The last time I'd done this for a boyfriend, he'd almost winced away from it, telling me over and over again that I didn't have to, really, it was fine. He'd made me feel defective for wanting to do it. But Ben was stroking my hair, eyes burning into mine, making no secret of his desire for my mouth. I could feel it vibrating through his body to mine, a message just for me, not a demand, but a gift. Allowing me the honor of pleasuring him.

  Ridiculous.

  Except it wasn't. My mouth watered, and I gave him what we both wanted.

  He tasted good. Like salt and desire and masculinity. I loved feeling the pulse of his skin in my mouth, against my tongue. I moaned, and his fingers clutched my shoulder at the vibration of my voice.

  It was so beautifully intimate. I never wanted to be anywhere else.

  More than intimate; I owned him. In that moment, I held everything in my hand. I was kneeling at his feet, but I had never felt more powerful in my life.

  I reveled in everything. The feel of his thigh muscles twitching and tensing under my hands, the way his body subtly rocked towards mine, but he held himself back. His inked-up arms in my peripheral vision. The unmistakable unique scent of man, of this man, so close to my nose, the natural musk of his body for once not overpowered with something that came out of a bottle.

  His soft, shaky groan sent a warm feeling spiraling through my stomach. "Baby, if you don't slow down, I'm gonna defile that pretty little mouth of yours." His breathing hitched, eyes darkening. "But if you..." He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "If you don't want it, you've got about thirty..."

  I swirled my tongue around his swelling tip, and he shuddered all over.

  "...mmm, make that about ten seconds..." His voice broke over the last word. "Oh, fuck. Fuck." Eyes squeezing tight, hands clenching my shoulders, he cried out, a sudden burst of incoherent sound that made my core clench with need all over again.

  "Fuck," he breathed out, as I swallowed and released him.

  A moment later, I let him pull me to my feet and wrap his arms around my waist. "I'm afraid to ask why you're so God damn good at that," he rasped, nuzzling his face to mine. Instinctively, I kept my mouth away from his, knowing most guys were squeamish about that kind of thing.

  "I certainly haven't had much practice." I laughed a little. He was just flattering me.

  "Hey." His lips brushed my cheek. "Let me kiss you."

  "Sorry," I muttered. "Didn't think you'd want to, after..."

  "Oh, so it's good enough to be in your mouth, but not in mine?" He captured my mouth, spearing his tongue inside to drive the point home. I moaned against him, still quivering from my climax, feeling weak and delicious wrecked. Finally, he released me, even more breathless than before. "You've sucked off some real assholes in your day, sunshine. I bet I don't even rank."

  Laughing, I pulled away just far enough to see his face. "I never said you did. Assholishness isn't relative. And some people are ruder in bed than others."

  "I mean technically, we're nowhere near the bed," he said, sensibly. "You think this is good, I'll treat you like damn royalty in there."

  I sighed. "Well, thanks for being nice about it, anyway."

  "Being nice?" he repeated, his eyes flashing with irritation. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "I know I can't possibly be that good at it," I said. "But, you know, I appreciate you pretending like I was."

  His eyebrows shot up. "You know, I should just be angry at whatever one of those past assholes made you f
eel inadequate, but I'm actually offended. Believe it or not, it usually takes me some time to finish like that."

  "That was definitely not no time," I protested. "I mean - it wasn't too long. I mean, it wasn't a short time either, it just..."

  "Slow down before you hurt yourself." He grinned. "You've got a peculiar effect on me in general, sunshine, that's no secret. But you're also really fucking good with that tongue of yours."

  "Thanks." I was blushing all over, but I found I didn't care. "You, too."

  "See, that I believe," he said. "You gotta learn to accept complements."

  "Is that an order?" I blurted it out without thinking.

  He stopped, midway through zipping his fly back up, and cocked his head slightly. "That depends," he said. "Are you taking orders?"

  I took in a deep breath. "Maybe," I said, at last.

  His face lit up.

  "Maybe is a start."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jenna

  Nothing was different.

  But at the same time, everything was.

  After we'd cleaned up and composed ourselves a bit, we had a light dinner with some more wine, and ended up retreating to bed long before the sun went down. We undressed each other, slowly, and he kissed every part of my body until I was panting. Then he stroked me to a slow, dizzying climax with a single finger - I think mostly because I dared him that he couldn't, or maybe he just wanted to prove that he could. The specifics were a little bit hazy.

  I returned the favor after that, halfway draped across his body, stroking him leisurely, feeling him throb desperately in my hand as he murmured sweet filthy nothings in my ear. "Are you trying to kill me, sunshine?" he'd whispered at one point, his eyes glassy and his whole body tense with the need to climax.

  "Maybe a little," I whispered back.

  It was a terrible pun, but when his body finally gave in to my teasing pace, what with his broken moans and his hands clawing the sheets and his hips bucking three inches off the bed, he somehow didn't have any room to complain.

  We fell asleep after that, tangled together, naked under the sheets. It felt right, even when I woke up to him snoring directly into my ear.

  I woke up gradually, to the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

  "G'morning." Ben's voice was still rough with sleep, his smile as crooked as ever. He rolled over and pressed his lips to mine, the tip of his tongue flirting with the space between them. I pulled away.

  "My mouth tastes like old socks," I muttered. "Let me brush my teeth first."

  "Don't care." He pulled me close again, and I surrendered, letting him in. To my surprise, he didn't recoil, but only kissed me deeper. Finally, he pulled away.

  "I don't taste any socks," he said.

  "Fine. But I'm going to brush my teeth now, anyway." The moment my feet hit the floor, I remembered I was naked. I glanced back at Ben, watching me with appreciative eyes.

  Oh, what the hell.

  I took the journey to the bathroom and back without a stitch of clothing on, and I couldn't remember if I'd ever done that in front of a boyfriend. Certainly not in front of a casual lover. I never really liked being completely naked, all at one time. The vulnerability was unnerving. But his warm gaze made me feel like I was wrapped up in a cozy blanket.

  A blanket that wanted to fuck me, but still.

  "How come we never had sex before?" I asked him, when he came back from his own morning routine.

  "Oh, boy," he said, climbing back into bed and slinging the sheet haphazardly over his waist. "You want a checklist?"

  "It wasn't because you didn't want to," I said.

  "Of course not," he said. "I think that's pretty obvious."

  "Well, what then?" I sat up, instinctively pulling the sheet up with me, to cover my chest. All of a sudden, I didn't want to be naked anymore. I noticed his eyebrow twitch at the sight, but I only clutched it tighter.

  "What, are we in a PG-13 movie?" He half-grinned, flicking his side of the sheet away so that his naked body was exposed. "Not anymore. You might as well join the party."

  Rolling my eyes, and pretending I didn't want to stare, I let the fabric drop to my waist. "That's all you get, sorry," I said. "I'm chilly."

  "Yes, I can see that." His tongue flicked out briefly to run along his lips. "This actually might be counter-productive for a conversation, but what the hell. I'm always up for a challenge. Could you repeat the question?"

  "Why," I said, snapping my fingers to get his line of sight away from my breasts. "Why didn't we do this before?"

  "Oh. Well. You kept insisting you didn't like spanking." He shot an incredulous look towards the sound of my fingers. "Really? Are we going to pretend like you're not trying to catch an eyeful yourself? Just take a picture, it'll last longer."

  Laughing, I feinted towards my phone. "Really?"

  "Shit, I mean, yeah," he said, reaching down. "But at least let me get it photo-ready first. I don't want my dick to end up on Reddit all half-mast."

  "Just once," I said, "I'd like to get through five minutes of conversation with you, and not feel the need to roll my eyes."

  "Ah," he said, letting go of himself with a hint of disappointment in his tone. "You were kidding. Well. Sure, I mean, no big deal. This can wait. It's not like I'm staring at an incredibly sexy half-naked woman, or anything. I'm sure it'll just go away on its own."

  Tossing my phone down on the bed, I gave in to the urge to glance. Just once. Damn. What the hell was I talking about? Something to do with...spanking... "What makes you think I'd post your dick on fucking Reddit?" I demanded, as a cover.

  He shrugged with the shoulder he wasn't currently leaning on. "Dunno. Isn't that what the kids do these days?"

  Right. I remembered now. "Stop evading. I want to know why you didn't want to let this happen. It didn't have anything to do with spankings."

  "You're right," he said. "I knew you'd let me spank you if I asked nicely enough, and I knew you'd end up loving it. You weren't scandalized when you saw that stuff on my computer, you were fascinated. Give me a little credit - I know the difference. Nobody gets that worked up over something unless they're, you know, worked up about it."

  "I really don't think that's true," I said. "But, fine. Great. You admit it. But you're still evading. I still don't have an answer."

  Ben shook his head. "Do you really want to sit here talking about why we didn't have sex before, when we could be doing it right now?"

  I swallowed hard. "Like...regular sex?" I blurted out, before I could stop myself.

  He laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd heard all week. "What kind of sex do you think I have?"

  "I don't know." My face was burning. I snatched up the sheet again, feeling the sudden need to be covered. Or as covered as I could be, when it came to him. "I don't know if you do vanilla."

  "Babe, I do all the flavors." He slid closer, doing an exaggerated eyebrow waggle that brought out a little giggle in me. "If you know what I mean." He paused, frowning. "I'm not sure what I mean. Point being, though, I do in fact have 'regular sex.' This -" here, he gestured down towards the one part of his body that drew my attention like a beacon "- isn't because I'm thinking about spanking you or tying you up or dressing you in a silly little maid costume that doesn't even cover your ass. I just want you." His voice went a little lower, a little quieter, growing husky and stoking a subtle fire inside me. "However you'll take me. And sunshine, I want to give you all the answers. I do. I want to talk all day and all night until you're satisfied that you understand every corner of my mind. But right now, I can't think straight. You know why?"

  I did. But I wanted him to tell me, in vivid detail.

  "I need to fuck you." He rolled onto his side, pressing our bodies together, kissing me again until I could hardly remember my name. "I've waited too damn long," he whispered, breathless, his forehead resting against mine. "So have you. Let's make up for lost time."

  I nodded, forgetting for a moment how t
he mysterious process of talking worked.

  Pulling away from me just long enough to grab a condom from the beside drawer - when did those get there? - he ripped it open with his teeth and sheathed himself hastily. His fingers quested between my legs, dipping inside, finding me more than ready.

  "Fuck," he whispered, pulling back replacing his fingers with the blunt head of his erection. We both groaned as he sank inside, slowly, until he was buried.

  He started slowly, as my body adjusted, but soon we were both frantic, the bed creaking loudly beneath us in protest.

  My body tingled all over. Slowly just slightly, he grabbed my leg just under my thigh and lifted, until I gasped at the angle of his thrusts. I hooked my knee over his shoulder and clutched the sheets until I screamed.

  ***

  We spent most of the day visiting wineries, tasting the varietals and answering polite questions about what we did for a living. I learned to hate the little condescending smile people gave me when I said I was an actress, but had to answer "not yet" when they asked me if I'd been in anything they'd recognize.

  But the wine was good, and after a few visits I stopped caring so much if they judged me. We almost ate lunch at a bistro attached to one of the vineyards, but an assortment of olives and overly fancy cheeses wasn't particularly appealing. We went down the road in search of heartier fare, finally stumbling across a diner in the middle of a gravel lot.

  "Have you ever eaten in a trailer before?" I asked him, as we approached the rickety screen door.

  "Of course," he said. "You haven't lived until you've eaten in a diner with aluminum walls."

  The food was deliciously greasy and satisfying, and I marveled at how Ben managed to eat a bacon cheeseburger without getting even a single stain on his gorgeous suit vest.

  I kept bumping his foot under the table by accident, and eventually it become on purpose. After lunch, we took a canoe around one of the smaller lakes, gliding around the water until sunset. Of course we had dinner reservations at one of the fanciest places on the waterfront, but it didn't quite live up to the greasy spoon.