I Married a Master(70)
Author: Melanie Marchande

God…

I came inside her, and it felt like the beginning of the end.

Either that, or the end of the beginning.

I could never be quite sure.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jenna

I woke up curled in Ben’s arms.

After our utterly explosive roleplay, he’d tenderly washed me in the shower, then dried me with a fluffy towel and bundled me up in bed. It was our last day in wine country, but as long as I stayed burrowed under the covers with him, I could pretend this might last forever.

We took a short hike after breakfast, breathing in the last few lungfuls of fresh air at a picnic lunch on the water. Ben threw bread crusts to the ducks, and I scolded him, and I wished we could stay here for just one more day.

"I actually think I’m going to miss this place," I said, as we loaded our bags into the rental car.

"Actually?" Ben echoed. "Why, did you expect something less than perfect from Mr. Perfect Billionaire?"

"I guess I didn’t know what to expect." I climbed into the passenger seat, slumping down with my forehead against the window. "But it sure grows on you."

The luxury plane felt a little less welcoming, now that it was taking me back to real life. I sighed, watching Ben pour himself a gin and tonic from the bar before he sat down next to me.

After takeoff, he suddenly shifted, reaching into his jacket pocket. "I almost forgot," he said. "The whole reason we came here."

Curious, I sat up. I’d actually forgotten when he told me at the restaurant before we left, until I noticed he was holding a little black box.

"Oh," I said, then, quieter: "Oh."

"It’s not much," he said. "I didn’t think you’d want something ostentatious."

I opened the box slowly, feeling my throat tighten. The ring was delicate and beautiful, with a few nested diamonds and a little gold design surrounding them. It was exactly the kind of ring I would have picked for myself.

For the love of God, do not get emotional over this.

But it wasn’t the ring, not really. The ring was the last straw in my emotional roller coaster of a weekend, and I cared deeply about this ridiculous man and I didn’t want him to die young and I really, really didn’t want to keep on pretending to love him when it was so close to the truth.

"Sorry if it’s…" He made a gesture whose meaning I couldn’t guess at. "I don’t know. I thought you’d like it."

"I like it," I said, softly. "Should I, um, should I put it on?"

"Before we land, yeah, ideally." Seeing me still frozen, he plucked the box from my hand. "Here. Let me."

Yes, this felt right. I wanted to keep on pretending for a little while.

As the cool metal slid on my skin, I was struck with an irresistible urge to kiss him.

So I did.

He seemed surprised for a moment, then he warmed to it. I broke away, and he only raised his eyebrows slightly when I climbed out of my seat and stood in front of him. Leaning forward, using his tie for a bit of leverage, I let my body slide down his, loving the site of him slowly understanding what I wanted.

Eyes fixed on my face, he was slouched slightly, one hand still clutching his drink even as it dangled over the side of the armrest. His breathing started to quicken.

"Master may I?" I asked, teasingly, with my hands on his thighs.

He nodded, exhaling sharply.

I didn’t think I’d ever tire of the taste of his skin, or the way he sighed and shifted his hips when I did it just right. This time he was more aggressive with me, grabbing my hair and holding my head still so he could control the pace, sliding in deeper than I thought I could take, testing my limits. He was watching me, waiting for the slightest sign that I was overwhelmed, that I needed him to back off. But I timed my breathing and let him take me. It was intoxicating. My whole body relaxed, glowing with acceptance.

When he came, I heard the glass clink to the floor, rolling away, leaving a puddle of gin and tonic in its wake.

"Good girl." He was still breathing hard when he released me. My whole body buzzed with arousal, and a tiny bit of confusion, because I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to like what he just did. He smiled darkly, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet, and onto his lap. I squealed, then sighed, feeling his hand slide up my thigh, and under my skirt. "So you see, I’m not always a perfect gentleman. But you like me better that way, don’t you?"

His fingers found their answer, and a short time later, they found me panting and moaning his name.

"You’re so beautiful when you come undone," he whispered. "And now, everybody knows you’re mine."

I’m yours.

I’m yours.

No one else’s. Make me yours for real.

I swallowed all of my thoughts, everything I wanted to say, and just tried to catch my breath.

***

Jenna

"Have a good trip." I threw my arms around Ben’s neck, hugging him tightly, even though no one was watching.

"I won’t." He smiled wryly. "Can’t stand these speaking engagements. But at least I’ve got you to come home to."

Even though we hadn’t moved in together, I agreed to stay at his place and watch over the cats and bring in the mail. Harry and I were fast friends, and the more timid ones had started to venture out into rooms that I was in, but only if I sat still for a very long time.

I saw him out to the car, kissing him goodbye, and felt a very real tug of longing in my heart.

Back inside, I typed:

I miss you

And let it sit in my outgoing messages for an hour before I deleted it.

He’d given me the assignment of watching the movie Secretary, so I made myself a frozen dinner and settled in. Harry watched me curiously, not understanding why I was here alone.

"Sorry, buddy, I’m all you get for a couple days," I said.

The movie captivated my attention, and afterwards I spent a lot of time thinking about it. There was one scene in particular, when the main character was walking home, having just been given the order to do so. She talked about how it made her feel loved, just following his orders. It made her feel more connected to him.

I knew exactly how that felt.

Ben called me after he’d settled in at his hotel. Even though we often went a long time without speaking, I found myself counting down the hours until my phone rang.

I was feeling frisky. The movie had something to do with it, a few very steamy spanking scenes leaving me longing for Ben’s hand. He must have been able to hear it in my voice, because his own tone warmed, growing a little more teasing and playful as we talked.

"What’s wrong, sunshine?" he asked, with a smile. "I can tell you want to say something, but you’re biting your tongue."