I Married a Master(69)
Author: Melanie Marchande

"I’m not sure," she whispered.

"I think it’s important for the role," I told her, smoothly, reaching under her pelvis to undo the shorts. In spite of her command performance, she couldn’t hide how badly she wanted me to touch her there. She whimpered softly, arching into my touch as my fingers ghosted past the top of her panties. I returned my hand to her ass. With one sudden movement, I yanked her shorts down and smacked her lightly on that soft, vulnerable skin, now protected only by lacy black panties that stood out in stark contrast, making my mouth water.

She yelped, squirming on my lap. "Oooh…Mr. Chase…I mean, Howard…?"

I spanked her again. "You still sound like you’re enjoying it. I’m going to keep spanking you harder until you seem like it’s actually upsetting you, instead of turning you on."

Jenna made an outraged noise. "Turning me on? How dare you, Mr. Chase? I don’t know what kind of girl you think I am, but…"

"I think you’re the kind of girl who prances into an audition with hardly anything on." Smack. "I think you’re the kind of girl who picked your outfit today solely based on whether you thought it would make me hard." Smack. "Well, congratulations." I rested my hand on the small of her back, holding her firmly in place while I thrust against her quivering body, letting her know exactly how much I wanted her. "You succeeded. Do you feel that, Jenna?"

She nodded, making another tiny whimpering sound. "I’m so sorry, Mr. Chase," she gasped. "I didn’t meant to…I just thought…please, don’t punish me anymore."

"I’m not punishing you, Jenna." I caressed her ass, where a slight blush had started to appear from my tender loving care. "I’m trying to help you. But I can’t help you, if you can’t act like a woman ought to when she’s being punished. Not like a whore."

A sharp intake of breath. I went too far.

Her fingers tightened around my thigh, holding on for dear life. "I think you like it when I act like a whore," she said, softly, shimmying her ass under my hand. This time, I let myself groan. If she kept doing that, this was going to get very embarrassing, very quickly.

"Stop it," I ordered, harshly, smacking her once more. "This isn’t about what I want. If you want this part, then you’d better muster up some tears."

She squirmed again, and I almost abandoned the whole thing. The temptation to pick her up and toss her over the bed, and give her what we both wanted so badly – it was almost overwhelming.

Almost.

"Don’t make me use my belt," I said, darkly.

She laughed – low and throaty, and very, very aroused. It was so obvious, in every movement, every breath. She was about to combust, and it was all because of me.

"You wouldn’t," she whispered.

"You sound so confident," I whispered back, letting my fingers drift up her spine and tug lightly on the ends of her hair. "You’re right – but only because it doesn’t fit the script. We have to be authentic, don’t we, Ms. Hadley?"

"Mmm." She turned her face towards me, slightly, her hair falling down just enough to almost cover one eye. Licking her lips, she sighed. "We do, don’t we? But you haven’t told me what happens after this scene."

"I’ll tell you…when I believe your performance."

I spanked her again. Hard. She yelped and cried out, she whimpered, she begged, but she never said the safe word. At one point, I hesitated, fearing she’d forgotten it. But as she lay there, panting, I could still feel the desire thrumming through her body. Even when the tears came, she never stopped wanting it.

"Howard, please!" she nearly screamed. "Howard, you’re hurting me. I’m so…I’m sorry…"

She choked off in a sob that sounded so goddamn real, but I knew it wasn’t. We were connected now, and I could feel her reactions in every breath and every movement.

Finally, I stopped. We were both panting, and I was going to have bruises from where she gripped my leg.

"You want to know what happens next?" I whispered, my hand resting where it last landed, fingers dipping tantalizingly close to her molten heat. "He realizes she’s a liar, because she really loves being spanked. He fingers her until she comes. So. Damn. Hard."

She gasped, whispering yes under her breath. I wasn’t sure she even realized it.

"Then," I went on, "he throws her down on the bed and he fucks her senseless. What do you think, Ms. Hadley? You wanna seal the deal? You want one last chance to prove yourself? Guarantee you get this part?"

"Yes, yes," she nearly sobbed. "Oh, God. Ben…"

I was going to let that slide. My fingers dipped down where she wanted them, rubbing her through the damp lace. She’d soaked through, leaving a wet mark on my jeans. I grinned viciously. "Looks like you’ve made a mess on my pants, Miss Hadley. You’ll have to be punished for that later, don’t you think? It’s only fair."

All she could do was moan and quiver, her body drawing bowstring-tight as I rubbed her hard and fast. This was no time for teasing. She was ready to explode, and so was I.

Within moments her eyes went glassy, her body convulsing on mine as her fingers dug into my leg muscle so hard I winced. But I could hardly feel any pain. She gushed, like she had before, utterly soaking through my jeans and crying my name as her limbs quivered and jerked.

I didn’t give her a chance to recover before I stood, picking her up with me, and dropping her on the bed like I’d promised. She sprawled, still gasping, while I fumbled with the fucking condoms and tried to undo my jeans one-handed. Weak and boneless, she still managed to push her panties out of the way while I sheathed myself and loomed over her.

I sank in deep with one smooth, quick thrust. She let out an unearthly moan, locking her ankles around my waist and tilting her pelvis to meet my every movement. I’d thought this wouldn’t last long, but now that I was finally where I wanted to be, it was like my body wanted to prolong the experience as much as possible.

She was so tight, her body stretching to accommodate me. I sank in deep again, all the way, and paused with my forehead resting against hers.

Fuck me, I was in trouble.

Everything about her was perfect. Every cell of my body, except for that one intelligent part of my brain holding court in the very top of my skull, was utterly and completely in love with this woman. I was having feelings for her – very real feelings, not just the usual I’m about to come so everything seems like a good idea feelings.

More like, this could be real if only we hadn’t met when I was looking for a fake wife feelings.

God damn it.

God damn it.