I Married a Master(75)
Author: Melanie Marchande

He wasn’t just talking about now, tonight. He was talking about all of it. Everything. The fear, the insecurity, the pain and the anger and all the clutter that got in the way of just being. This wasn’t just a release for my body, it was a release for my soul.

That was his gift to me.

"Please," I gasped, opening my eyes, only then realizing that I’d closed them. His face was inches from mine. His fingers still moved, relentlessly, and my body began to shudder in ways I couldn’t control. "Stop. Please."

He did.

My whole body throbbed. I was ready, but I wanted, needed. I couldn’t find the words to ask, reduced to one raw exposed nerve, and I had nothing but the ability to reach up with my one free arm, trembling, my fingers digging into the taut muscles of his ass. With all the strength I had left, I pulled him to me.

He sank inside me with a groan, his eyes clouded with lust when he managed to drag the lids open again and look at me. "I won’t last," he warned me, quivering with the effort of holding back. "Are you ready?"

I managed to nod.

"What do you need?" His words sounded thick and heavy on his tongue, like he was drunk on me. "Is this enough?"

I nodded again, my inner muscles quivering and clenching. So close.

With a growl, he began a brutal pace. One hand captured my hip in a bruising grasp, and with the other, he held himself up, giving the leverage he needed to pound and pound and pound so hard the bed shook.

On the first thrust, I was already lost.

My climax swept me up like a riptide, and instead of one swift peak, it carried me along in ecstasy, until he was spent, and further, achingly sweet, achingly perfect. When he stilled, shuddering with release, I moaned softly. The embers were still burning, achingly intense pleasure still radiating.

"More?" he murmured, his fingers finding the place just above where we were joined. "Are you not finished, sunshine?"

Breathless, boneless, I nodded. Hoping he understood.

He caressed me, catapulting my body back to those heights. I didn’t recognize the feral sounds I was making, and I could feel my back starting to ache, all of my muscles quivering, my eyes rolling back in my head as I came. And came. And came.

When I finally went limp, the last few aftershocks jerking my exhausted limbs like a puppet on a string, he sighed.

"So beautiful," he whispered. He smiled, his lips against the side of my head, almost kissing but not quite. He was still so hard inside me, just as hard as when we’d started.

"Are you not finished?" I managed to whisper, teasingly, having caught just enough of my breath to form words. It was a stupid question. I could feel his seed inside me, but God, I wanted more. I never wanted this to stop.

A quiet chuckle, as he moved his hips a little. I gasped, another little aftershock shivering its way across my skin. "I almost think I could fuck you again. Would you like that, sunshine?"

Was he serious? I stared at him.

"Would you?" he repeated, with a tiny thrust.

"Yes," I moaned. "Of course, I just didn’t think…"

"Neither did I." He pulled back and slammed his way home, with a groan that sounded ripped from deep inside his chest. "Fuck. But here we are." He nibbled at my ear, and I cried out, my body pulsing with bliss.

It was pure sin, feeling him slide so easily with our mingled wetness inside of me, knowing there was something about me that defeated his very biology and made him need beyond need. I was his own personal Viagra, and I cried out his name until I really and truly lost my voice. He didn’t stop until my pleasure started to mingle with too much pain, my body resisting against the onslaught of sensations I’d endured tonight. He saw the change, the way I bit my lip a little too hard, my forehead knotting in a silent wince. Pulling out, he knelt over me, stroking himself and asking me softly where I wanted him to mark me.

The answer was easy.

Everywhere.

It took a long time, but he did. Chin, neck, chest, stomach, all were anointed, before he collapsed beside me, chest heaving. He untied the remaining knots with shaking hands. A string of creative curses spilled from his lips as he wound his arms around me, not caring that he spread the mess across our skin.

"Darling," he whispered after a long silence. "If I have a heart attack in the next few minutes, will you promise to put my dick away before the EMTs get here?"

I giggled.

If this was aftercare, I didn’t need it. I was pillowed in bliss, ignoring the stickiness that dried on my skin and feeling nothing but a warm glow. All the same, I liked it. We snuggled together, and for the first time, I allowed myself to forget.

I allowed myself to pretend.

Darling. It was just a figure of speech. But it sounded so good, coming from his mouth. Like he actually meant it.

Like I really was his darling.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ben

I fell in love with Jenna Hadley, and there was no point in pretending it wasn’t true.

I’d accepted that weeks ago. But I resisted telling her, even as I laid my plans to completely blow her mind. She had no idea that my little business trip was actually a research expedition, and I’d arranged everything. Our honeymoon was going to be perfect. There was just one minor setback.

"That’s sadistic," was Daniel’s very helpful input.

"Thanks," I said bitterly, stirring my drink. "But it’s not that easy. What am I supposed to do, just tell her?"

He nodded. "Much better than letting her wonder and wait. Why would you put someone through that kind of agony? She’s crazy about you, Ben. Are you blind?"

"You can’t possibly know that," I said.

"You’re right," he said. "Maybe she’s really the greatest actress of all time. But Maddy tells me what she says about you."

But she’s lying to Maddy.

Unless, of course, she’s not.

"It’s not quite that easy," I said.

"It is that easy," Daniel insisted. "Just open your mouth and form words with your brain. Maybe your tongue gets involved at some point. I don’t know. I don’t control your life."

"But you wish you did."

"You’ve got to admit, things would go a lot more smoothly for you," he said, without a hint of irony. "That was a double entendre, by the way."

"Oh, the tongue thing? Yeah, you’re very subtle. I knew I should’ve called Wozniak instead." I crumpled my napkin up, bitterly.

"Wozniak wishes he had my game," said Daniel, seriously. I had to laugh, Sometimes, he was a hilarious drunk.

"I just don’t want to dump it on her all at once," I said.