Page 10 of Her Marine Master (Master Me #4)

She didn't walk over. She fucking ran .

He opened his arms and caught her, his chest growing warm.

Her trust in him—which was entirely unwarranted—made him want to work hard not to let her down.

Maybe that was what scared him about her.

With a girl like her—no, not a girl like her, with Kaitlyn Lattigard, the beautiful and sweet social worker who lived next door—he'd be all in.

There wouldn't be any half-assed relationship going on with her.

No casual booty-calls or dating other people.

And yeah, she was in his arms now, her tears dampening his shirt, so he'd say he was pretty much all in.

"I'm sorry about calling you Dimples . I didn't mean to sound condescending. Well, maybe I did—so I'm sorry. But I love your dimples."

He cradled her head to lift it away from his chest and thumbed away her tears. Bending his head, he kissed her supple lips. They were softer than he'd imagined and so pliant.

She looped her arms around his neck, stroked the left side—the scarred side—of his face.

He grasped her wrists, lifting them up over her head, never breaking their lip lock. With his other hand, he slid under her halter top to cup her breast. Her nipple responded to his touch, hardening to a stiff peak. He pinched it, hard. He wanted her. In the worst way.

He shifted, grasping both her wrists and pulling them behind her back, where he pinned them with one hand. Her body tumbled against his when he yanked her forward, the heat from her skin sending a fresh kick of lust straight to his cock.

His brain short-circuited. Was this right? Or so very wrong? His body screamed right, his gut, too. But how could he trust his instincts when he'd been so fucked up for the past nine months? His rational brain yanked back on the reins.

You're going to hurt her. She doesn't deserve that.

"I don't know what we're doing here," he rasped against her neck.

She lifted her lovely face. "I hoped you were going to fuck me. Hard."

His cock jerked against his jeans and he nearly groaned aloud. He forced out his breath. "Yeah, but then what?" Somehow he made his lips work to speak. "You're not the kinda girl a guy fucks and walks away from."

She stilled and he knew he'd hurt her again just by suggesting he wanted to walk away. He didn't—not really. It was just a pressure now, that he should . But all she said was, "Let's just see where it takes us."

He made up another deal with fate. Named the fantasy that had been banging around in his head since the night before. The new one that he never thought he'd want. "If I fuck you again, I'm going to make you my girl."

His 1950's housewife girl.

The joy that lit up her face stabbed him through the heart again. God, he did not deserve someone as pure and good as her. He tried to warn her off. "I don't know if you're prepared for what that entails."

He spun their bodies so her back fell against the door.

With a knee wedged between her legs, he pinned her wrists beside her face and bit her bare shoulder.

He dragged his tongue along her collarbone, then back up her neck to flick her earlobe with the tip of his tongue. He wanted her so bad it made him dizzy.

"Tell me what it entails." Her voice sounded husky. Sexy as hell.

He didn't even know where the words came from—it was a fantasy he'd never even acknowledged. "I'd be your man. I'd make rules for you, and you'd follow them or be punished. You'd belong to me—body and soul."

If he'd expected her to back off, he'd guessed wrong. Her nipples jutted out and she gyrated her hips, grinding down on his thigh. She was excited, not scared.

His breath shortened, his head swam with the vision of her as his little housewife, his girl.

"I'd be fair. I would…" He blinked at the force of emotion inspired by his proposal.

To have this girl for his forever-girl. For keeps.

"I'd be good to you. Take care of you." He sounded gruff.

"I'd do anything for you—protect you, die to keep you safe if I had to.

But you'd be mine to guide and correct."

Her enthusiasm hadn't dampened. She thrust herself against him, rocking those sweet little hips against his leg. "Yes, yes," she breathed.

He cradled her face and kissed her again, a hard, demanding kiss. His tongue thrust into her mouth, lashing hers. "You want that?"

She surrendered to him, her body soft and pliant, eager. "Yes, sir," she murmured between kisses. It had a husky, sexy lilt—the hint of a tease. She may be inexperienced with dominance and submission, but her instincts were submissive through and through. She loved surrender.

He made a last deal with fate: If she accepted punishment now, she was truly his and he'd be in one hundred percent. "Your first lesson will be in respect. You don't get to yell at me, even when you're upset."

She blinked and uncertainty crept into her expression, as if worried he was truly angry with her.

"You can speak your mind, but you have to stay respectful."

Her lips parted.

There. How would she take this, when it was semi-real? He thought for sure it would piss her off.

"I-I'm sorry." She looked genuinely upset. Because she was that sweet.

It pinched his heart.

He kissed the tremble in her lips away, teaching her, in this first lesson, that he'd be there for her. He wouldn't let her fall. "I'm going to have to punish, you, Katie girl."

She yielded, her body softening against his.

Pure surrender.

Her brain was completely muddled. Her body was on fire. She wasn't sure if Rob was playing a game or really punishing her. She didn't really care, as long as it involved his signature "hard fucking" afterward.

He took her hand and led her to the sofa where he sat down facing her. He thumbed open the button on her jean shorts and shimmied them down her hips until they dropped to the floor.

"Ready, baby?" His voice sounded gravelly.

Her pussy dripped moisture onto her inner thigh. "Yes, sir."

He guided her torso not over his lap, as she'd expected, but to lean over his shoulder, so they were in an embrace. He tugged her panties down and squeezed her bare bottom, which tingled in anticipation of his touch.

Her heart thudded against her chest and her palms were sweaty.

"You have a perfect ass, Dimples. Am I allowed to call you that if I promise it's with affection?"

"Yes, sir." He was allowed to do pretty much anything he wanted, as long as he kept stroking her bottom and stoking the flames of desire within her. She'd never felt so desirable. Or desirous.

He drew his hand back and slapped one cheek, then rubbed away the sting.

She gasped, then wriggled her bottom for more.

He slapped the same side again. Just when she started to wonder if he'd only be able to slap one side in that position, his other hand caught the opposite cheek.

"Hrm." She made a sound, somewhere between a groan and a purr.

Rob set up a slow cadence, spanking one side, then the other, always rubbing and kneading the offended cheeks in between.

He slipped one hand in front of her hips and brushed her clit with his thumb.

It throbbed for more. She bucked her hips, shoving them forward, seeking more of his touch.

He obliged, settling the pad of his thumb right over her swollen nub and rubbing small circles around it.

She let out a keening cry.

He spanked her with the other hand, while continuing to torment her clit.

"Oh God," she moaned.

Another spank. More circling. Her temperature must be one hundred and eight degrees by now. She felt like a bomb about to explode. The sense of urgency overrode all her brain functions. She clawed at his shoulder and back, whined and moaned, humping the air in her desperate need to get off.

"Come here, Kaitlyn." Rob's voice seemed far away.

Fortunately, he didn't wait for her to comprehend, but simply moved her a step backward and opened his jeans. His huge cock sprang out.

She started to sink to her knees, her eyes locked on his member, but he caught her elbows.

"Ride me."

She had completely lost all sense, because she would've have hopped on without another thought. Fortunately, he was thinking for both of them and pulled out a condom. He snapped open the foil package and sheathed his cock in record time.

Even so, the delay killed her. She straddled him, impaling herself on his stiffened manhood. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she groaned as she sank down onto him. "Yes," she breathed.

He gripped her hips and pulled her forward and back, controlling the pace and the movement. Well, she preferred it that way. She'd never liked being on top before. The performance pressure always got to her.

Now, she felt free. Rob was in control. All she had to do was rock her pelvis and grind her clit down to take her own wild pleasure.

She panted for breath, heat coming off her in waves.

His cock filled her, stretched her wide, bumping her inner walls at a punishing force.

His muscled arms flexed as he moved her pelvis faster and faster.

She was close to reaching the pinnacle. The highest she'd ever been. Her head fell back and her eyes closed.

Rob's fingers closed on her right nipple, clamping down hard.

She gave a shriek of protest and his hand moved between her legs. When he pinched her clit, she toppled over the brink, freefalling into ecstasy.

Her pussy seized his cock and squeezed as wave after wave of release flowed through her.

"Did I say you could come?" he growled.

She couldn't even focus on him.

He gripped her hips harder and thrust up to meet her each time he yanked her in against him. "Did I fucking say you could come?" he shouted between clenched teeth.

Her eyes widened, suddenly worried she'd done something very wrong, but then he cupped her bottom and pulled her in tight, burying his cock deep for his own powerful finish.