In Love With a Master

by Jason Luke

  I sighed heavily into the phone. “Doc, just tell me one thing…”

  “Yes…”

  “Are you my best hope?”

  “Yes.”

  I let out a long breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Let’s do it,” I said.

  By the time I set the phone back into its cradle I felt wrung out and emotionally exhausted. I swung round in the chair and stared out through the window at the darkening night, feeling something unfamiliar… emotions that had long ago become a stranger to me.

  Hope and fear.

  Everything around me had changed color. The realization that I was no longer condemned or held chained by bleak despair had altered the way I saw the world. The night sky was just as black and just as brooding as it had been the night before. The same cars wound their way down the mountain road, and the same shroud of menacing storm clouds hung heavy in the sky – and yet somehow the car lights seemed a little brighter, the clouds a little less threatening, the night a little less grim. I had hope, and I clutched at that small flickering flame of it, and held it close to me so that its small bright glow was like a lantern illuminating the blackness.

  As I sat alone in the office, that flame of hope grew steadily brighter and became courage – and dread.

  I had three days to live – just a few precious days to put my affairs in order, and to make my peace.

  I sat at my desk long into the dark night, wrestling with my conscience in the face of impossibly hard decisions.

  I didn’t sleep.

  Chapter 23.

  Leticia drove in through the gates at sunset. The rain from the previous day had left the ground heavy with mud. She parked her car close to the front door, and came up the steps with a suppressed hum of happiness.

  Her smile was warm and genuine but I could see traces of ordeal in her eyes and a flicker of uncertainty at the edges of her smile. It hung on her lips, brittle and fragile.

  “Jonah, I missed you,” Leticia said in a soft breath.

  She came into my arms and we embraced in the foyer. Leticia gazed up into my eyes, searching my expression.

  “I missed you too,” I said. “I am sorry again about yesterday morning.”

  Leticia brushed aside my apology but I sensed, like the rain, the abrupt manner I had left her had made the ground between us unsure.

  She looked up into my face and her smiling expression slowly transformed into one of concern. “Jonah, you look tired. Is everything alright?”

  I forced a smile. “Everything is fine,” I lied. “I just didn’t sleep very well.”

  Leticia let the moment pass. She clutched at my arm and squeezed tightly. “Well, maybe you couldn’t sleep because a certain someone wasn’t lying in your bed beside you,” there was a bright little glitter in her eyes.

  I nodded. “That must be it,” I agreed dutifully. “Who do you suggest?”

  “Me, of course!” She slapped at me playfully, and everything between us was all right again.

  The house was empty and cold, and instinctively we drifted into the warmth of the kitchen, where the last of the day’s light was streaming through the westerly windows in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors. Leticia looked puzzled.

  “Where is Mrs. Hortez?”

  She looked around the kitchen area. There was nothing cooking, no pots, no pans simmering, and no fresh aromas.

  I shrugged. “She left earlier in the day,” I explained. “She has a son at college, and she went to visit him for a day or two.”

  Leticia spun on me. “Mrs. Hortez has a son? I never knew.”

  I nodded. “He’s a fine young man,” I said. “I’m actually paying for his education.”

  Leticia did a thing with her face – some kind of an unreadable expression, like maybe she was surprised, or maybe intrigued. “That’s very generous of you.”

  “Not really,” I shook my head. “Mrs. Hortez is part of the family, and her son’s education is important.” I frowned. “Besides, it’s only money.”

  Leticia wandered around the kitchen like she was seeing it for the first time. She opened pantry cupboards and utensil drawers with the critical eye of someone who enjoyed cooking. She went to the refrigerator and held the door open for a moment, then looked over her shoulder at me. “So you’re a bachelor?”

  “Yes,” I smiled. “I have been left to fend for myself and feed myself for a day or two.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  I shook my head.

  “Are you hungry?”

  I nodded.

  “Would you like me to cook something for you?”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  There was an apron hanging from a hook behind the kitchen door. Leticia hung it over her neck and belted the trailing ribbons of fabric tight around her waist.

  I scraped a chair away from the kitchen table and sat. “Are you going to cook dressed like that?”

  Leticia looked at me then glanced down at herself. The apron was a riot of bright floral pattern beneath which she wore a light woolen pullover and snug fitting, faded blue jeans. She looked back up at me, puzzled.

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  I frowned and then shook my head. “Leticia,” I poured every ounce of conviction into my next words, “Everyone knows you can’t cook fine food unless you’re naked.”

  Leticia blinked, hesitated for just a moment, and then slowly began to smile. She propped one hand on her hip, looking like she was a glamor model for kitchen cookware. “Is that so, mister?”

  I nodded. “It’s a proven fact,” I said. “Every great chef around the world mastered their craft by cooking naked.”

  Leticia’s smile became wider, and she played along good-naturedly. “Okay…” she said slowly. “I am prepared to cook naked for you, provided you are prepared to eat it naked.”

  I smiled at last. “You drive a hard bargain,” I said and then sat back with a sigh. “Maybe you should cook wearing your clothes and we can enjoy dessert naked.”

  Although the kitchen was unfamiliar to her, Leticia worked with impressive efficiency, moving from the stovetop to the refrigerator to the kitchen counter like a series of orchestrated dance moves. The big empty house began to fill with the aroma of sausages and eggs frying and hissing in the pan. She carried the food to the table and made a little ‘ta-dah’ sound as she set a plate before me.

  “Enjoy,” she said, resting one hand intimately on my shoulder and leaning so close that I could feel her face near mine and smell the scent of her perfume.

  “Thank you,” I said with genuine appreciation.

  Leticia watched me hawk-like as I put the first forkful of food into my mouth, and chewed slowly. She sat, poised on the edge of her chair, and I sensed she was waiting for some sign of my approval. At last, I made a sound of appreciation and nodded my head enthusiastically. “This is fantastic,” I enthused, and saw a radiant glow of pleasure beam across Leticia’s face. She let out the breath she had been holding in a gush of delight and relief.

  “I’m so glad you like it!” she said. “My mother always told me the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.”

  We ate in comfortable silence, and then stacked the plates into the dishwasher. Leticia left the apron hanging back on its hook and I took her hand in mine and led her up the staircase.

  We got to the bedroom door and paused at the threshold.

  “Time for dessert?” Leticia giggled.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m in the mood for something sweet and juicy.”

  Leticia went straight to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. She leaned herself back, propping her weight on her outstretched arms and licked her lips in a luscious gesture to provoke me. “Well… Now you have me, whatever do you plan on doing with me?” Her voice was the throaty husk of a femme fatale.

  I smiled, but not in a friendly way. It was the smile of a predator who had cornered his prey. “I’m going to handcuff you,” I said, my tone sexual
ly ominous. “I’m going to pin your arms to the headboard of the bed, strip you naked, and then use you for my pleasure until we are both exhausted.”

  Leticia arched her eyebrows and her voice dropped to a breathy whisper. “That sounds promising.”

  I shook my head. “No. That’s a promise.”

  I went to the training room and snatched up the set of steel handcuffs and carried them back to the bedroom. Leticia had stretched herself out on the bed, still fully clothed. Her hair was fanned out across the pillow and she had her eyes closed.

  I stood at the foot of the bed, watching her for a moment with the handcuffs dangling from the crook of my finger. She was watching me through slitted eyes, feigning her relaxed pose, but beneath the soft fabric of her pullover I could see the rise and swell of her breasts and sensed her sudden agitated breathing.

  “Get up!” I snapped. Leticia’s eyes flashed open. The stern tone of my voice had startled her. “Get up off the bed,” I commanded. “Right now.”

  Leticia scrambled obediently off the bed. She stood up straight, her arms hanging by her sides. There was a flash of uncertainty in her eyes.

  “Get undressed,” I said. “I want the pullover and the jeans off.”

  Leticia nodded and slipped into the role of a dutiful submissive. The misgiving in her expression disappeared now she understood.

  I dropped the handcuffs onto the bed as Leticia fumbled with her clothes. She cast the pullover off, threw it onto the ground beside her and then shook out her hair. Her hands went to the buttons of her jeans and she wiggled her body like a dancer, drawing the tight denim down from her hips until the pants were bunched around her ankles. She stepped aside from the clothes and bent at the waist to unfasten the straps of her high heels. I reached out and seized her wrist.

  “No,” I said. “Leave those on.” In my mind women always look sexier in lingerie than they do naked. For me the epitome of female sensuality is a beautiful woman in elegant lingerie, and a pair of high heel shoes.

  Leticia stood statue-like, her expression demure, but there was a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

  “Pleasure yourself,” I said, my voice softening just enough so that the words were an instruction rather than a barked command.

  Leticia sucked in a sharp hiss of breath, and then she closed her eyes and bowed her head. Her hand glided like a lover’s caress down across the flawlessly smooth skin of her abdomen, and then her fingers disappeared within the elastic waistband of her panties.

  For a long moment she stood rigid. I could see the knuckles of her hand making slow moving mounds beneath the sheer fabric. Leticia shuffled her feet wider apart and then slowly her body began to soften as she explored and aroused herself.

  I watched, expressionless, but behind my eyes was a rising sense of my own desire and hunger. I heard Leticia’s breathing become deeper. I stepped quietly behind her and unfastened her bra. Leticia didn’t seem to notice. I reached around her body and cupped one of her breasts in my hand. Her flesh was warm and smooth. I took the nipple and rolled it gently between my fingers. Leticia moaned and I sensed the movement of her hand between her spread thighs become more urgent.

  I stepped away, walked in a slow circle admiring Leticia’s slim body from every angle. She was slowly beginning to undulate, her body gradually coming alive in a sensual writhe. I took her nipple between my lips and my mouth wandered over her breast, my lips plucking at the flesh. Leticia’s hand within her panties became more insistent and then she threw back her head and moaned.

  “Stop,” I said sharply. Leticia’s eyes flashed open, dazed and distant for an instant, and then overcome with an expression of incredulity. The teasing of her fingers ceased abruptly and she turned her head slowly to look at me. I smiled, but it was a smile of wicked torment.

  “Take your panties off,” I said brusquely. Leticia hesitated and my smile turned cold. “Do it now,” I said.

  Leticia drew the flimsy sodden fabric down her thighs to her knees and then let them drop to her ankles. She kicked them aside.

  “Put your hands behind your back.” I stepped close to Leticia and reached my hand down to cup the glistening moist mound of her sex. “Do not move,” I whispered as my fingers became quickly coated in the slick flood of her arousal. I brushed my hand in a lazy circle across her clit and then eased two fingers deep inside her.

  Leticia swayed on her feet and I felt the instinctive clench of her inner muscles into a tight grip. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as though to stifle a desperate moan of desire. I slid my fingers from within her until they were poised on the lips of her sex, my touch too fleeting to satisfy her.

  “Are you close?” I asked. “Are you on the edge of coming, Leticia?”

  She nodded her head, not trusting her voice. Her hair shook and shimmered and glinted in the light, then fell down across her face as she bowed her head again.

  “Would you like to come?”

  Again she nodded, this time with a jerk of urgency.

  “Beg me,” my voice dropped to a soft whisper. “Beg me for your orgasm and I’ll give it to you.”

  Leticia licked her lips like they were parched. She swallowed anxiously and inhaled a shuddering breath. “Please, Jonah… Please can I come?”

  I took a step back and looked at her. Her nipples were hard little pebbles, and there was a rash of goosebumps around the rosy flesh. I reached out and drew my fingernail over her breast, then lightly scratched a line all the way down her body to the sensitive bud of her clit. Leticia flinched, and then bucked her hips.

  “Can you wait?”

  Leticia shook her head. Her whole body was clenched and straining, and I could feel the tremor in her legs as I stood close and brushed my hand up her thigh.

  “Are you sure?” My voice had softened to become as gentle as a caress.

  Again Leticia shook her head, and words were torn suddenly from her lips. “Please!” she pleaded. “Please let me come.” She wrenched her eyes open, desperate and teetering.

  I nodded. “Very well,” I said.

  I slid my hand slowly up her thigh and pressed my palm against the core of her. Leticia’s jaw was clenched and as my hand rubbed against the achingly sensitive lips of her sex she clawed at my arm as though she might fall, and at the same time her knees buckled and the weight of her pressed down against my palm.

  The contact was like an electric shock to her body. She seemed to seize rigid for an instant, and then her face contorted into an expression of tense rapture and her body lost all control. I stood like a rock while Leticia flailed and ground herself against me, sparking her release and igniting the fierce explosion of her orgasm.

  Leticia fell away, her legs like jelly and the fierce rasp of uncontrolled breathing sawing across her throat. She staggered to the edge of the bed and collapsed onto the mattress, her lungs heaving for air like a bellows. She lay melted and soft, her eyes closed, her arms and legs twitching with tremors.

  I unbuttoned my shirt and then unbuckled my belt. I cast my clothes aside and knelt on the bed beside where Leticia lay. I was hard. I took one of Leticia’s hands and guided it to the length of my shaft. Her fingers wrapped around me and began to move with a light touch as though they had a will of their own.

  I felt myself clench and swell. I felt a thickening pulse of desire. I gazed down at Leticia’s face as she stroked me. There was a tiny crease of concentration across her brow. Her lips pressed into the shape of a soft pout and then she licked them with the pink tip of her tongue until they were moist and glistening and inviting.

  “Get up,” I said, my voice thick and husky.

  Leticia rolled off her back and came up onto her hands and knees, facing me.

  “Open your mouth.”

  I thrust myself between her parted lips, driving forward from my hips so that the length of me disappeared deep inside the soft moistness of Leticia’s wide open mouth. She flinched – I saw an instant of alarm in h
er eyes – and then she relaxed again and I held myself within her and tangled my hands into the tresses of her hair.

  “Don’t move,” I said.

  I rocked from the waist, back and forth and Leticia made willing little sounds of delight in the back of her throat that seemed to goad my desire. I could feel the flat press of her tongue against the underside of my shaft and the gentle drawing suction as she clamped her lips tight. My hands fisted in her hair as I felt myself beginning to thrill.

  The handcuffs were on the bed beside me. I snatched them up and eased myself out from between her lips.

  “Turn around,” I said.

  Leticia shuffled herself on the bed until she was facing away from me, her knees parted wide, presenting the slick opening of her sex to my cock. She lowered her head to the pillow in anticipation and I saw the flex of her shoulder blades and the arch of her spine beneath the tightly drawn flesh of her back.

  “Give me your hands,” I said. “Put them behind your back.”

  Leticia shifted her weight, and turned her face so that her cheek was pressed to the pillow and she was staring at the wall beside the bed. Her hands clasped together in the small of her back and I snapped the cold steel of the handcuffs to her wrists.

  I grasped the links of chain between the iron bracelets and at the same moment, thrust myself deep inside Leticia’s pussy.

  Leticia groaned – a ragged, muffled sound as though all the breath had been driven from her. I felt the intuitive clench of her muscles that became a ripple of twitching spasms as I held myself prone for several seconds.

  Leticia’s hands clenched into fists. I tugged gently at the cuffs, reining her back against me so that our bodies were locked as one.

  “Hold still for me,” I instructed. “I want you to be a tight wet place for my pleasure.”

  I began to fuck Leticia in slow deliberate strokes, and each time I lunged to reach the inner depths of her she made a satisfied gasp, the sounds like a sprinkle of erotic spice to my own arousal until I felt the instinctive urge in me rise like a mist. I let go of the chain and hooked my fingers around her waist. Leticia was rocking with the force of me, passive to my needs. Her eyes were closed now, her lips pursed, riding the rising waves of her own pleasure.