The Master (5 page)

“Want?
Estoy desesperada!
”

He stood to undress. “Desperate? Don’t worry, I’m about to give you what you need.” He removed his shoes and socks, then he pulled his sweater over his head.

As he revealed more of his body, I shivered with appreciation. His wide shoulders were muscled, his pecs rigid with dusky nipples, his arms brawny. He had sculpted washboard abs, and a
tantalizing black goody trail that I wanted to nuzzle. His tanned skin sported a few raised scars over his chest and arms, but they didn’t detract from his hotness.

His expression grew stern. “You disobeyed me. You came without permission.”

I stretched my arms over my head, loving his gaze on my tits. “I regret nothing.”

He unbuckled his belt, his movements menacing. So why did I feel no fear of this strange man? He snagged a condom from his pocket, then unzipped his slacks. As he worked them over his massive
erection, I gasped.

His cock was a work of art. Distended, damp-tipped, with a plum-colored crown and a thick veined shaft. I wished I could explore every inch of it at my leisure. I’d never been a fan of
head, but I licked my lips to imagine my tongue flicking that bulbous tip, teasing it. My mouth nursing that length . . .

He stood nude before me, his body the most mouthwatering I’d ever seen. All I could think:
Best job ever!!!

He wrapped his big fist around his shaft, giving a stroke that rendered me breathless. More moisture beaded the slit. As he rolled on what had to be an extra-large condom, he said, “Show
me what I’m soon to enjoy.” There was no mistaking his tone. He’d given me a command.

Beautiful arrogant man.

I would follow his order, but I’d do it my way. I lifted one foot onto the couch back, resting the stiletto heel against the sofa’s piping, then let my knees fall wide. I undulated
in this position, taunting him with my spread pussy. “How do you like variety now,
querido
?”

His cock pulsated in his hand, and he muttered something in Russian that sounded like a curse. He returned to the couch, kneeling between my legs. The difference in our sizes struck me. He made
me feel tiny and fragile—while he was all hard edges and power.

He leaned over me, using one hand to restrain my wrists over my head. With his other, he gripped his shaft and aimed it. When the crown slipped down my slickened lips, he hissed in a breath.
“So fucking wet for me.”

As he prodded that broad head, I had my first worry.

I was soaked, but he was
big
—

He shoved inside to the hilt, yelling with pleasure.

Too
big! “Ow! Hold up!” I strained against his grip. “
Mierda,
give me a minute.”

Lips parted, he released my wrists and drew back on his knees, leaving me pinned on his cock. “ ‘
Ow?
Hold up?’ ” This was the second time he’d flashed me
that expression of shock/amazement; I termed the look
Máximo shockeado
. “You’re determined to enjoy your fucking?”

I guessed other women had let him shove away. “Let me get used to your size.” The fit was so tight that I could feel his dick throbbing with each of his heartbeats. “Can you do
that?”

He held himself still, shuddering from the effort. His skin began to dampen with a sheen of sweat. He grated, “
Somehow.
”

Tentatively, I rolled my hips, sending his shaft in and out of me.

In . . . out . . .

In . . . out . . .

In. Out.

In.

Each time I could accept his length more readily, my body accommodating his. Pleasure subdued the pain. My lids grew heavy again.

“Good girl.” His gaze was fixed between my legs. “I see you taking me,
dushen’ka.
”

When he leaned over me once more, I threaded my fingers through his thick hair. At my ear, he murmured Russian words, then he took my mouth. He’d liked it when I’d sucked on his
tongue, so I did it again—

He growled into our kiss, his hips shooting forward between my legs. It didn’t hurt this time, wrenched a moan from me. He withdrew, then sank even deeper. And it was . . .

Increíble!
I broke away to cry, “Yes, yes!
Más
, Máxim!”

Leaning on his forearms, he began to surge into me. His black hair was mussed from my frantic grip, his eyes hooded. He stared down at my face, brows drawn, as if I’d confounded him.
“You’re making me lose control.”

Did I appear as lost to lust as he did? “I don’t want you to hold back,” I panted, spellbound by him.

His gaze narrowed, as if I’d challenged him—or was giving him lip service. He withdrew, then rammed his hips forward, taking my breath away.

But I loved his strength, his intensity. “That’s all you’ve got,
Ruso
?”

He went to his knees again and gripped my hips. “That was a warm-up.” Seeming to use every muscle in his body, he yanked me close as he shoved. “
Uhn!
”

I cried out, lifting up to meet his next thrust. He rocked into me; I rolled up to him, the pressure hitting my clit each time. Once the two of us were in sync, our bodies moving together, he
pistoned between my legs, railing me as I’d never been fucked before.

Fuck of the century? Try millennium! I was holding on for dear life, hovering on the very verge of orgasm.

“So
tight
,” he grunted, his jaw set as he pounded away.

Ay, Dios mío
, he could move! Each time he snatched me to him, his biceps bulged. His pecs flexed, hard slabs of muscle beneath sweat-lathered skin.

Just watching his toiling body pushed me closer to the brink. He enjoyed watching as well, was transfixed by my bouncing breasts.

The tension gathering inside me was about to release—if he kept up those long, deep thrusts. So close . . . so close . . .

Accent thick as gravel, he bit out, “I love your nipples, your tits, your gripping pussy. The way you watch me with those stunning eyes. You like to watch me fuck you?”

“Yes! Máxim, you’re going . . . to make me come . . . hard!”

“Fuck.
Fuck.
” He swelled even more, until it was too much! “Can’t hold on! My cock’s about to explode!” The lines of his face grew tight, as if he were
in misery. Then his body stilled.

No, no, no!
No, keep moving!

His look of misery vanished, ecstasy lighting his face as he began to ejaculate. He threw back his head and roared to the ceiling, his throat working, tendons bowstring-taut. He gave a brutal
stab of his hips, then another, bellowing, “It’s . . . so . . . fucking . . .
good!
”

His shattering thrusts hurtled me over the brink. “Yes, yes, YES!” I screamed, my vision blurring. My back bowed, my tits slipping across his sweating chest.

“
Blyad´!
I feel you!” As my core clenched him, he bit out, “Your greedy pussy’s milking my cock. You’ll have every last—
ahh!—
fucking
drop out of me!”

Hot. Wet. Bliss.

Continuing on and on and on . . .

Just when I could take no more, he shoved into me one last time. A long satisfied sound rumbled from his chest. His lids slid shut, and he collapsed over me.

I lay boneless beneath him, my limbs splayed. I moaned when his cock twitched inside me; he groaned when my pussy continued to squeeze his shaft.

As if our bodies wanted more of each other.

He nuzzled my neck, his exhalations tickling my damp skin. His heart thundered against my chest.

By the way he’d reacted, I began to think I might’ve given
him
an FOTC.

I
patted his ass, sighing, “Not bad, Máxim.”

With a half frown/half scowl, he withdrew, revealing a condom filled with more semen than I’d ever seen.

“
Un hombre viril.
” I stretched out on the couch, grinning from ear to ear, finally understanding the term
fuck-drunk
.

Rising, he yanked off the rubber and dragged on his pants. “You’re pleased with yourself.”

“Pleased in general.”

“I don’t
ever
lose control like that. I never come until I’m ready to.” His harsh tone was accusatory, as if I’d done something unforgivable.

Qué cosa?
Huh? “This took me by surprise as well.” I rose to look for my clothes.

“You don’t make a habit of getting off with your clients?”

“No.”

Again, he clearly didn’t believe what the hooker was saying. “Something about me in particular must be ‘special’ and ‘different’ among your clientele. I
suppose coming with each of your dates, all day long, would be an occupational hazard.”

Wouldn’t know. By the time I’d collected my clothes, he was already in the next room. Shame. I’d wanted to see him from the back.

I heard the shower running and had no idea what I was supposed to do. Leave? Get ready for round two? I donned my underwear, then grabbed my phone, ringing Ivanna.

After I’d given her a rundown of everything, she sputtered, “Maksimilian Sevastyan?”

“Yes. You’ve heard of him?”

“Of course! He’s a politician and a
billionaire
!”

The former interested me more than the latter. My father had been in politics too. Not that I’d ever tell the Russian. And not that he’d ever believe me if I did.

Ivanna continued, “He’s one of Europe’s most eligible bachelors, but no one can land him. Damn Botox! Is he as gorgeous up close as he is in pictures?”

“He’s DDG.”

“Have you talked about me at all?” she demanded.

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me what I do now!”

“The payout was excellent, so upsell him for the whole night. You’re already at his place, have spent money and time on clothes, makeup, and transpo.”

The kids in my business courses had nothing on Ivanna the Escort’s expertise. Or mine, for that matter. “You’re right. Sunk costs.” Economics informed the decisions I
made every day.

“Act as if he rocked your world,” Ivanna said, the phrase almost comical with her accent. “Like he is the best lover you ever had.”
He is!
“Make him think
he’s the only one you’ll give your private number to. They eat that shit up.”

“But it
is
private.” I hadn’t even allowed her to give it to the agency. “I don’t want anyone else to have it.”

“We’ll get you a new number this week. For now, your job is to play to his ego and get him for the rest of the night—or to snag a future date. Though that isn’t likely to
happen.”

“Why not?”

“He’s never booked the same woman twice. Oh! I could still get a date before he leaves town! Maksimilian Sevastyan, can you imagine?”

Yes, Ivanna, yes, I can.
She was going to have sex with a guy I’d screwed. She’d know his mighty body, would get high on his scent. At the thought, my emotions, which had been
up and down all night, took a header.

When the shower stopped, I hung up the phone, hurrying to the bedroom. I leaned against the doorway of the suite. Pulling my hair over my shoulder, I acted all alluring.

He exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips.
Por Dios
, that body. How could one man be so utterly blessed?

Before I could say anything about another go, he scowled. “You’re still here?”

My lips parted. He’d expected me to let myself out, without even saying good-bye?

Yes. Because my purpose had been served. He was looking at me like he might look at a used condom. Oooh, this man got my back up! He’d been all excitement and passion before; now the icy
chill was back.

He sat on the edge of the bed, casting me a disgusted look. “I suppose you remain in the hopes of upselling me for the rest of the night. Maybe even offering me your
private
line
?”

Although that was precisely what I’d been advised to do, I gave him a haughty smile. “I’m good for the night, and my private line stays private,
querido
. I’m just
on my way out.”

When he dropped his towel and climbed into the high bed, I turned to find my dress. From the bedroom, he gazed out into the sitting area, rising up on an elbow. I caught him ogling my body,
actually tilting his head for maximal viewing.

Keep looking—last time you’ll ever get to see it.

Once I’d gotten my dress on, he lost interest and shifted over on his back, bending one brawny arm behind his head. I’d been so affected by what we’d done, while he behaved as
if he’d just completed a bodily function.

It hurt. I wanted to hurt him back. “Apparently I need to remind you that tips aren’t included.”

In a forbidding tone, he said, “There’s cash on the dressing room console.”

I found a gold money clip filled with hundreds. Maybe two grand’s worth. “How much?” I called.

“Take whatever you think your performance deserves.”

Performance? What a dick! I’d come my brains out, and so had he! So I took it all, including the goddamned money clip. Passing the bedroom door, I said, “Thanks for the tip,
pendejo
.” Asshole.

“I’m surprised you aren’t acting ingratiating.” He was still talking to me, engaging me?