Page 7 of Her Hollywood Master (Master Me #6)

H er body tingled all over. Even though she hadn’t liked the spanking once it had become intense, now the heat and pulse of it seemed to keep her in a state of heightened sex drive.

She couldn’t stop staring at Joel’s lips, feeling his sheer masculine power pouring over her in waves.

She wanted him to take her again, the way he’d taken her in the shower—roughly, wholly.

She’d never had sex with that level of passion before, and now she never wanted to have it the old way again.

He picked up the comb and continued gently detangling her hair at the same time he dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear.

“Marissa is back on,” he said when the person on the other line answered.

She stilled, listening. The sound of an angry male voice answered him.

“She’s here at my house and she’s going to stay here until the filming is over. I will personally guarantee her full cooperation.”

More angry tones. It must be Antonio. At least she hoped it was Antonio and not studio executives. Antonio’s hot head she could handle. Pissed off cut-throat execs, not so much.

“I’ll set up a meeting with the studio for tomorrow morning and we’ll hammer out the details. Nine a.m. Okay, I’ll see you there.”

He ended the call and made another one, this time to someone at the studio. From what she understood, they agreed to arrange a meeting for the morning.

The thought of meeting with them the next day with her tail between her legs made her feel sick. And she would need to let her mother know what had happened so she could be there as her manager.

“Do you think they’ll take me back?” she asked when he hung up.

He pursed his lips. “I think the pay cut will be the key to making this all fly.”

She slumped in his lap.

He rubbed her back. “It will be all right. You will need to look properly remorseful, but I won’t let them eat you for lunch. I promise.”

She leaned back into his arms, wanting to believe him, wanting to trust this make-believe game of having a big, strong, all-powerful daddy to look after her could really be true.

But she still didn’t even understand the rules of the game.

And it was a game—she had no illusion of keeping Joel Sutherland for longer than it would take him to wrap up the movie filming.

“Tell me what happened to you this morning, Marissa.”

She stiffened and tried to sit up, but he pulled her back down, stroking her arms. She drew a breath. “My sister invited my asshole ex-boyfriend and his band over to play a house concert at my place last night.”

He waited, saying nothing.

“I had a hard time getting to sleep and I guess I forgot to set my alarm,” she admitted.

“So you stayed up partying against last night?”

“No,” she snapped, twisting around to glare at him. “I couldn’t sleep because my sister invited my asshole ex-boyfriend and his band over,” she repeated, wanting him to see how this was all Bev’s fault.

He looked at her, his face impassive.

“What?”

“What options did you have to change that situation to prevent a problem for yourself this morning?”

Pressure built beneath her nose and cheekbones as hot anger rushed to her face. “I don’t know,” she snapped.

She waited for him to snap back, but he said nothing.

She considered his question. “I could’ve left, I guess, and stayed at a hotel. But I shouldn’t have to, it’s my house!”

He nodded.

She swallowed. “I could’ve kicked them out, but then it would’ve looked like he got to me.”

“Did he get to you?” Joel asked, studying her.

Tears pricked her eyes. “No,” she said, too vehemently. She dropped her head to get control.

He put a finger under her chin to lift it back up. “Did you love him?” he asked softly.

She scowled. Sitting on Joel Sutherland’s lap with a sore bottom and his full attention made Billy Foxx seem completely insignificant. She shook her head. “No.”

“So what got to you?”

“He publicly humiliated me. He didn’t even have the decency to break up with me before he started?—”

Joel touched her lips, stopping the diatribe. “Do you want to be with him?”

Did she? She’d been happy enough with him.

Except now she knew he was a two-timing playboy who had just slept with her sister while his girlfriend had passed out in the room below.

“No,” she said decisively. As she said the word, a weight cleared from her chest. She didn’t want to be with Billy Foxx, so his betrayal meant significantly less than it had a few moments before.

She sucked on her lower lip. “You probably think I’m a mess.”

“No,” he said, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. “I think you’re a talented actress with incredible potential whose current lifestyle choices might be affecting her well-being.”

She looked at him from under her lashes, allowing a hint of coquettishness. “And I just need a daddy to look after me?”

HIs lips curved into a devastating smile. “That’s what I’m thinking. A very strict Daddy who will not hesitate to warm your bottom for you.”

She wanted to believe he could make it all better, but the underlying anxiety over her big-picture problems remained. She shoved them down to the pit of her belly and snuggled into his warm embrace. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Are you hungry, little girl?” he asked, stroking her hip. “You must be. What have you eaten today?”

“I’m starving,” she admitted, starting to stand up.

He lifted her off his lap and stood, patting her bottom. It wasn’t nearly as sore as it had been an hour ago, which was slightly disappointing.

She wrapped his robe more tightly around her and trailed him into the kitchen.

He opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. “Turkey sandwich?”

“I don’t eat bread, but sure.”

He paused. “Right.” He looked back in the fridge.

“It’s fine. I’ll just have the turkey. Do you want me to fix dinner?”

“No,” he said, pulling out the sandwich fixings. “I’m making dinner. Your time would best be served…” he paused as if inventing it as he went, “bending over that counter and showing Daddy your punished bottom.”

Something fluttered in her belly. Her head felt hot and buzzy.

At the tender age of twenty-four, she’d spent more than half her lifetime performing.

She understood perfectly what he wanted from her, and she was happy to comply.

She walked to the granite countertop and leaned over it, hiking the robe up to reveal her bottom.

Reaching back, she ran her hand over her cheeks, squeezing a little to renew the pain.

She winced. Still tender. She heard the sounds of plates coming out of the cabinet, mayo and mustard bottles squirting.

She decided the robe was in the way and slipped it off, letting it fall to her feet.

Fully naked now, she rested her cheek on the counter and reached back with both hands, rubbing her bottom like a naughty girl.

Joel’s hand tangled in her hair and he lifted her head up. His breath felt hot in her ear. “You look so cute like that, little girl.”

“I was hoping,” she purred.

“Were you?” His voice sounded deep and gravelly. He caught her nipple and tugged it, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. She crossed her legs and squeezed, her pussy clamping in response.

He slapped the back of her thigh, lightly. “Open those legs for Daddy.”

She slid her feet apart.

He slapped again, a little harder.

She gasped.

“Wider.”

She stepped out further.

“Good girl,” he said, his fingers reaching around the front of her to stroke along her slit.

“Now, let’s go over some rules of the house,” he said, sliding open the drawer beside her and pulling out a rubber spatula, followed by a heavy wooden spoon.

Moisture began to seep between her legs and he gathered it, spreading it up her labia and circling her clit.

“I expect instant and complete obedience from my baby girl,” he said.

“And I will control your entire world. You won’t leave the house without permission, you won’t eat or drink unless I approve the food and you won’t watch television unless I determine if the shows are appropriate.

I will dress you or give final approval on any outfit you choose. ”

She giggled and then yelped when the wooden spoon connected sharply with her ass.

“Do you think that’s funny, little girl?”

“No sir, no Daddy,” she yelped.

He patted her bottom with the spoon. “Any disobedience or sass will be immediately punished. I can be a very stern daddy.”

Why did those words make her want to swoon? She literally felt light-headed as she gripped the edge of the countertop. She wanted to cry, or laugh. No, she wanted to come.

“Please take me, Daddy,” she asked in her best little girl voice.

“Interlace your fingers and put them on the back of your head,” he said gruffly. “And don’t move.”

He left the room and she felt abandoned until she realized he’d probably gone for a condom. Sure enough, when he returned, she heard the sound of the package ripping open. She wiggled her bottom, hoping to look tempting.

“I’m going to have a hard time not taking you morning, noon and night,” he said, sliding one finger over her swollen slit again.

“But that’s not part of our arrangement.

” He leaned forward and bit the flesh between her neck and shoulder, his sheathed cock angling between her legs.

“You can tell me no,” he breathed in her ear, even as the head of his penis pushed into her.

She furrowed her brow, trying to decipher his meaning. He would be her daddy and spank her but not have sex with her? That just seemed weird. Wasn’t the whole point of the game a fetish? Something that turned him on?

“Put your hands back on the counter to brace yourself,” he murmured.

Just the words brace yourself had her pushing back at him, eager for something rough and raw. “Please take me, Daddy,” she repeated.

He grabbed her hips and began to pump in and out with more force. “You’re a very good girl to give yourself so eagerly to Daddy,” he said.