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

Just his mention of Billy made her cringe.

How freaking pathetic was she? Was she really going to ride this train till it hit bottom over that loser?

No. Maybe he had been the impetus for her irresponsible behavior, but here, in the presence of a real man, he seemed completely insignificant.

And she sure as hell didn’t want to admit to Joel that she’d let some loser rock boy sink her ship.

A sob of frustration welled up in her throat and she held it, drawing a fluttered breath.

“Don’t hold it in, sweetheart. I want your tears.”

Fuck. That. Except his request seemed to summon exactly that—a wall of emotion surged from her chest into her throat and came out in a cough, which turned into sobs.

The tears weren’t far behind. She tried to hold it in—she didn’t want to cry in front of him, certainly not bent over his lap being spanked with a hairbrush. It was too humiliating.

She held her breath, then choked on a sob erupting from her chest.

“That’s it, Marissa,” he said, his voice rich with warmth, even though he continued paddling her throbbing bottom.

She kicked her legs. “Please,” she wailed. “Please stop.”

“Let it all out, baby girl,” he said.

She collapsed over his legs, crying like a baby, surrendering to the idea that he’d never stop spanking her. And that was when he finally did stop, circling her bottom with the brush, its smooth wood now a caress.

“Oww,” she sobbed.

The brush disappeared and his hand massaged her swollen ass, the heat making her flinch.

She continued to cry. Insecurity blasted through her. How would she ever look him in the eye again? What if he pushed her out the door with a wham, bam, thank you ma’am and never let her back on the movie? What if he told everyone?

“Don’t...don’t leave me,” she blurted with a sob, then froze, wishing she could pull the words back into her foolish mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that. Leave her? How could he leave her when he wasn’t even dating her? She held her breath, wanting to slither off his lap and hide under the sofa.

Joel lifted her up to cradle on his lap. “Of course I won’t leave you. Daddies don’t leave their Little’s just because they’ve been naughty.”

She covered her face in her hands.

He pried her fingers back. His gaze was warm and loving, as if she were his beloved child and not an unreliable co-star with a huge cold sore on her lip. He kissed her wet cheek. “The spanking’s over and you’re forgiven.” He pulled her head against his chest and stroked her hair.

She leaned into his warmth, his gentleness soothing her raw emotions. It was a surreal moment. “Did you enjoy that?” she asked, not angry, just trying to understand him, or what just went down.

As if in response, his cock twitched beneath her bare thigh.

The corner of his mouth turned up, but he shook his head.

“No.” He stroked his thumb across her collarbone and down, cupping one breast. “Well, yes, some of it,” he admitted with a wolfish smile as he flicked her nipple with his thumbnail.

“You looked pretty cute standing in the corner.” His cock moved against her bottom.

His arousal reassured her, gave her a sliver of confidence back. She wanted him—needed him, actually. She kissed him lightly on the neck. Then again a little higher, on his earlobe.

His cock pressed more insistently, but he nudged her off his lap to stand. Before she had a chance to register her disappointment, he stood and scooped her back into his arms, carrying her down the hall to a beautiful master bedroom.

Joel bypassed the bed and kept going, into the master bathroom where he gently set Marissa on the travertine tile counter.

She winced a little and glared, which made him smile.

He rather enjoyed a pouting girl after a good spanking.

Marissa made a perfect Little. He knew her body responded to his dominance, but he didn’t know what was going on in that beautiful head of hers.

Was she just playing the part he asked her to play to stay in the movie?

He turned on the shower and waited until the water warmed, then held out his hand. “Come in here, baby.”

She touched her half-dried straggly hair and looked chagrined.

Easing off the counter, she took his hand, allowing him to help her into the large two-person tiled shower stall.

“This is beautiful,” she said as he propelled her forward into the angle of the water spray.

She sighed, leaning her head back into the water.

He shucked his clothes and stepped in with her. Picking up a bar of soap, he rolled it between his hands before sudsing circles around her perky size C’s.

“Mmm,” she covered his hands with her own and closed her eyes.

“Beautiful girl,” he murmured. He proceeded to soap every line and curve of her torso.

When he reached her pretty little pussy, he soaped her mound and outer lips and crouched down with a razor.

“Little girls are smooth and bare for their daddies,” he said.

He lifted one of her knees over his shoulder to give himself access and carefully shaved her entire area clean.

When he stood back up, she wore the most tantalizing expression. The actress playing the ingenue, her face radiated innocent pleasure while she held her body in seductive repose. Her full breasts arched up, her bottom angled out. “Turn around,” he said, his voice thick.

She turned to face the spray of water.

He grasped her waist and pushed her forward. “Hands on the wall,” he said. Lathering the soap again, he slid his fingers into her crack, sudsing the insides of her cheeks, massaging her anus with his middle finger until her knees buckled and she moaned with need.

He realized he hadn’t brought a condom into the shower, nor had they really negotiated sex, just spanking. He wrapped one arm around her waist and put his lips to her ear. “I want you,” he said in guttural tones.

She answered by pushing her ass back against his aching shaft.

“Do you want me to take you, Marissa?” he asked, not wanting to use the Daddy/little girl talk for sex in case she did not feel comfortable mixing it with their new dynamic.

“Yes, Daddy,” she breathed, answering both questions.

“Don’t move,” he said, stepping quickly out of the shower to grab a condom from the drawer. When he returned, she looked as if she’d taken the order to heart, standing as still as a statue, the spray of water beating down her back and running down the slopes of her reddened ass.

He ripped open the condom and slid it on as he re-entered the shower, wasting no time. “Push your bottom back,” he commanded.

She arched more, rolling her pussy back to his view.

He pushed his shaft against her, seeking her wet channel. The head of his cock made contact with her heat, parting her folds. “Oh God, you feel so good,” he said, sliding in, relishing the bliss of her tight channel.

She made a pleading sound, as if she wanted more.

He braced one hand on the shower wall beside hers and reached the other around to find her clit, flicking the little button intermittently to tease her.

She moaned, throwing her head back to rest on his shoulder, arching like a porn star beneath him. Her muscles gripped his cock and when he realized she was doing it on purpose—tightening and releasing—he lost all control.

He shoved in, balls deep, and began to pound into her with hard, upward thrusts. He braced her hips with one hand around her waist, the other against the wall beside hers. The water accentuated the slapping sound of his flesh against hers.

“Oh my God,” she panted. “Yes...harder.”

He nearly lost it. He slammed into her again and again, punishing her hot ass each time his hips connected with hers, pummeling her sweet little pussy until she raised her voice in a throaty cry.

Cum shot down his shaft, the release explosive.

He pinched her clit and she came, her body jerking back against his, the inner walls of her pussy clenching his cock like a fist.

“Oh yeah,” he groaned as his orgasm continued, augmented by her spectacular finish. He remained pressed against her, waiting until her muscles relaxed and she sagged against him.

He eased out of her and removed the condom, stepping out of the shower. He quickly dried off and pulled on his clothes. When she turned off the water and peeked out from behind the curtain, he held a large towel open for her.

Her face split into a sweet smile, grateful and demure at the same time.

The urge to completely care for her hit him hard.

He wrapped her up in the towel, drying her and squeezing out her hair.

She stood docilely, allowing it, although looking slightly bewildered and shy, as if no one had ever pampered her before.

He helped her into his robe and led her by the hand to one of the chairs in his bedroom, where she could see the ocean while he combed out her hair.

With the punishment and sex concluded, she grew nervous. He sensed the question emanating from her, and wondered whether she’d have the courage to ask it.

“So...what happens now?” she asked at last, stealing a glance at him as he dragged the comb through her hair.

He dropped into the chair beside her. “I will advocate for your return to the movie. The studio will probably want something from you.”

“Like what?”

“Well, they’re going to want a guarantee you will fulfill your contract, which I’m going to provide, since I’ll be managing you, as your Daddy,” he said with a wink.

She gave him a shy smile.

“You will learn your lines, show up on time and give one hundred and ten percent every day you’re on the set.”

“Of course.”

“You may need to accept a pay cut to cover the expense the studio has incurred on the wasted shoots.”

Her eyes rounded and she looked miserable about this condition, but she still nodded.

“So we have a deal—you and I?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she murmured, then lifted her head with a questioning look.

“Yes, you will call me Daddy or sir when we’re alone; Joel when we’re working or with others.”

She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.

“You will behave with maturity and grace when we’re in public. When we’re alone, you’ll be my baby girl. Oh, and there’s something else we should discuss. Some people don’t like to be in ageplay mode when they’re having sex. What are your feelings?”

She rubbed her lips together. “So this is called ageplay?” When he nodded, she said, “Well...isn’t sex kind of the point? I mean, this is a fetish, right?”

“That’s how I feel about it. But some people feel like it’s too incest-like, or pedophiliac—I don’t know if that’s a real word,” he said with a grin.

“Do...um...are you interested in children?”

“Absolutely not. I like adult Littles. A sexualized adolescence. Really, I like to be completely in control, so Daddy fits the bill. And just for the record, psychologists have confirmed there’s no correlation between an interest in ageplay and pedophilia.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just trying to understand.”

“I know. None taken.”

“So I’m your Little? Until we finish shooting the movie?”

“You will give yourself to me completely. I’m in charge of you now, and you know how I will deal with disobedience.”

He watched the flush stain her cheeks, her eyes dilating.

He’d been looking for any signs that she resented the spanking he’d given her earlier, but it seemed he’d read her right—submission turned her on.

He caught her face in his hand and turned it, kissing the side of her mouth without the cold sore.

“Don’t worry—I’m going to take good care of you. ”