Page 21 of Her Hollywood Master (Master Me #6)

Allie was silent and he cursed inwardly.

Despite the fact that she’d cheated on him, he still cared about her.

He didn’t love her, he didn’t want to be with her, but he also didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

He ran a hand through his hair. He sighed.

“It’s time, Allie. I need you to respect my boundaries. We’re not married.”

“But we’re friends.”

“Yeah, but friends don’t get in the way of each other’s love lives.”

Marissa drifted back toward the door to the kitchen, standing just outside it, looking in.

He met her eye. “Listen, I gotta go. No more unexpected visits.”

Allie spluttered. “I can’t believe this?—”

“I mean it,” he said, his voice firming into a dominant tone.

“Fine,” she snapped and ended the call.

He tossed the phone on the counter. “Come over here, right now,” he said pointing to the floor in front of his feet.

Her eyes widened in surprise at his stern tone and she complied, scurrying over.

“Don’t you ever walk away again without telling me why you’re mad at me,” he said.

She opened and closed her mouth, stunned at the reprimand. His mouth was set in a firm line, his jaw muscles visibly tightening. The authority he projected made her knees wobble and all her own anger evaporate. She didn’t like being the subject of his anger.

He picked up her wrist and spun her around pinning it behind her back. Pushing her torso down on the counter, he said, “Pull them down.”

She didn’t ask for clarification; she had no doubt what he meant, even if she didn’t understand why she was being punished. Her fingers fumbled at the button and zipper and she slid her shorts and panties down to her thighs.

His belt buckle jingled behind her, followed by the whoosh of the leather sliding through the loops. She shivered.

He didn’t say a word, he just began whipping her with the leather.

She flinched, lurching against the counter to get away, her legs trembling.

He laid down line after line, traveling down her bottom and back up again, the slap of leather against skin making a loud whap. She cried out with each stroke, her bottom clenching and her hips dodging from side to side.

“Marissa, my job is to take care of you. And I can’t do that if you put up walls and keep me out. If you’re upset or mad or scared, I need to know about it so I can fix it.” His calm rational words didn’t mesh with the excruciating whipping he was laying down.

Despite the pain, heat had flooded her core, spreading the petals of her sex, her body ready to be taken by him. Even the pain began to feel good, as if he somehow was converting her emotional angst into the thin stripes on her ass, freeing her with each wicked stroke.

At last he stopped, and she panted, her knees buckling.

To her disappointment, he pulled up her panties, then her shorts, reaching around the front to zip and button them.

Like a daddy would. He turned her around, picked her up, and set her on the counter.

His expression was no longer hard, the lines had softened and his gaze looked tender, and concerned.

Cupping her face, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry.”

A sound bubbled out of her—half laughter, half scoff. “Is that how you show you’re sorry?”

The corner of his mouth tugged up in his famous lop-sided grin.

“Sometimes.” He stroked her face. “I’m really sorry.

You shouldn’t have had to deal with a surprise drop-in from my ex-wife.

And if you would’ve just talked to me about why you were upset, I would’ve told you that things are over with Allie.

Forever. Our divorce is final and I’m never taking her back.

We may be amicable, but that doesn’t mean there’s any chance of a reconciliation. ”

Her lips trembled. She could think of no words to say. Joel had made things right again for her, as usual.

He pulled her hips toward him, wrapping her legs around his waist and picking her up to carry into the bedroom.

He stood her in the center of the floor and pulled off her shirt.

She moved to help strip but he caught her wrist, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“Daddy’s doing it,” he told her. She stood docilely as he moved behind her.

He unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor, cupping and circling her breasts with his palms. He slid a warm hand down her belly, which she immediately sucked in.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Daddy loves your tummy the way it is.” He kissed behind her ear. “Daddy loves you the way you are.”

Her knees buckled. Had he just said he loved her?

But no, he’d said before it’s a state of mind, not a promise.

Still, her body had gone weak. She leaned her head back on his shoulder as he unbuttoned her shorts and slid his palm inside, gliding over her mons, one finger teasing her swollen outer lips.

Her pussy was wet, almost embarrassingly so and he spread her moisture up to her clit, alternately circling and flicking.

“Daddy…” she breathed.

“What do you need, little girl?”

“I need you…”

He slid one finger inside her and she moaned, wanting more.

“I need you inside me, Daddy. Please, Daddy.”

He maneuvered her toward the bed, shoving her panties and shorts down her thighs at the same time. They dropped to the floor moments before he turned her, picked her up by the waist and tossed her back onto the bed.

She giggled and waited, catching her breath as he stripped. Dear God, his muscles! Adonis had nothing on him. Her sex leaked in anticipation. He slid a condom on his beautiful cock before he climbed over her. Grasping her wrists, he pinned them over her head.

“What happens if you’re mad at Daddy?”

She arched a brow to cover the flush creeping over her face at discussing their fight so soon after it happened. “I get spanked?”

He quirked a smile and touched her nose. “Very funny. No, little girl. You got spanked for shutting me out. Try again. What should you do if you’re mad or upset with Daddy?”

Her face burned and she tried to look away, but found it impossible with him holding her wrists pinioned overhead, his face just inches away from hers.

Out of nowhere, the tears that hadn’t come all day, that hadn’t come when he whipped her, popped into her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she choked.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a caress.

“You’re long forgiven. I’m making sure you understand the lesson.

” His knee settled between her legs, in the place she wanted his cock.

She rubbed her mons over it, greedy for stimulation.

“Tell me what you should do,” he murmured, the tenderness in his voice nearly breaking her.

“I’ll talk to you, about it,” she said, her voice breaking a little at the beginning.

“That’s my girl,” he said, shifting to position with his sheathed cock between her legs. She arched, straining against his hold.

He bent to suckle one nipple, his teeth grazing it, torturing her with waves of heat rippling down to her core.

“Please,” she whimpered.

He seemed unhurried, moving to her other nipple and giving it the same treatment.

“I need you,” she cried. “Please, please, please, Daddy.”

He buried his face in her neck, biting her shoulder as he slid into her.

“Yesss,” she breathed.

He made a rumbling sound, almost a purr, except the kind that comes from a lion, not a housecat.

For a second he didn’t move, and she wriggled impatiently beneath him, until he chuckled. “You want Daddy’s cock?” He withdrew and shoved it deep inside her, forcing her up the bed by at least five inches. He repeated the action, taking her hard, the way she wanted it.

“Daddy’s going to take you until you cry, little girl. Have you ever been taken so hard you cried?”

She rolled her head on the bed, her eyes already glazing over with pleasure.

He continued to thrust deep and hard, propelling her to the head of the bed, then dragging her back down to the center of the bed. In one deft motion, he flipped them both over, so she now lay on top, their bodies still connected. “Ride me, Marissa,” he said, his voice thick.

She pushed herself up to sit, cowgirl style, and rode, finding her own rhythm, gliding her pussy over his cock, grinding her clit against it.

He cupped her sore bottom, squeezing and kneading it, pulling her hips over his to help her rhythm. Just as she began to lose her breath with exertion, he flipped them back over, pinning her hands beside her head, interlacing his fingers over the tops of each palm.

“Look at me,” he commanded, moving with slow, deep strokes. “I only have one baby girl.”

She moaned, ready to explode.

“...and she’s you. And when I take a baby girl, she’s my whole universe.”

She shattered, lights dancing before her eyes, the tears he’d promised squeezing from the outer corners of her eyes as she cried out. Her vaginal muscles squeezed his cock, her body shuddered and she shoved her pelvis up to keep him as deep inside her as she could.