Page 4 of Her Royal Master (Master Me #1)

That level of mastery. Of toe-curling skill. Of take-charge control.

I was getting wet again just thinking about it.

Darius eased his fingers out of me and rolled off.

Like an idiot, before I could stop the sound from escaping my lips, I let out a soft whimper, like I didn’t want him to leave.

When he leaned over to drop a kiss below my navel, a shiver of danger ran through me.

Not because I was afraid he would throw me overboard or make me sign away all possibilities of writing about him—although those threats still hung in the room—but because the affectionate gesture came so easily and felt so wonderful, it nearly broke me.

And I couldn’t begin to examine those feelings at the moment.

Not when he was returning from washing his hands in the ensuite bathroom with a look of dark purpose on his handsome face.

He rolled me over to my belly. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t the quick flurry of spanks that landed on my ass. He caught my hands when they flew back and pinned my wrists to my lower back with one hand, all the while smacking me with the other.

I lost my breath. “Ouch! Stop. What are you doing?” I gasped.

“You and I both know you have this coming, American thighs.”

He was calling me American Thighs? The AC/DC song ‘ You Shook Me All Night Long ’ started playing in my head.

A giggle mingled with my cries of protest. I never thought I’d enjoy this, but I loved that he spanked me, the sharp jolt of pain followed by heat.

I tightened my thighs, needy again. He continued spanking me until the initial shock of pain receded, and my entire ass turned warm and tingly.

When he stopped, he rubbed his palm over my heated flesh in soothing circles.

I expected the interrogation to begin, but instead, he leaned over, his hot breath feathering over my ear as he murmured in his delicious accent, “If you want me to pound that little pussy until you forget your name, get up on your hands and knees.”

My insides turned molten, heat flooding down my inner thighs.

Did I want him to pound my pussy? My mind screamed hell no , just in reaction to the base suggestion.

I mean, really—were we filming a porn movie here?

My body, fresh off an orgasm, didn’t think I needed or could take any more.

But a wild greedy desire for every experience this famous, fascinating man could give had me launching up to my hands and knees.

“Good girl,” he said softly, but his hand struck my ass again, which registered only as sensation, not pain. “Take that shirt off.”

I hesitated. Being naked in broad daylight wasn’t easy for me, but I’d already come this far. He’d seen me naked, had tasted me, for god’s sake. I yanked it over my head and returned to the position, like an obedient dog. He pushed a palm between my shoulder blades, forcing my torso down.

“I’ll use a condom.”

It should have been a mood-kill. Not the condom part, but the matter-of-fact way he announced it, like he fucked a different girl every day and had years of experience with sexual negotiation.

Which was probably all true. But what I heard was reassurance.

He was letting me know it would be safe sex.

Protecting me. Just like he’d protected me from the collar and the prince and his gang of terrifying dom-wannabes, as he’d called them .

Did that make him a real dom? I was pretty sure it did.

Ooh, the scoop. The Devil Duke was a sexual dominant. Yum.

I heard the rip of foil and rustle of clothing.

He shoved my knees wider and slapped my wet folds.

I launched forward, onto my belly and away from him, but he made a tsking sound and pulled my hips back over my heels.

“None of that, little yankee. This pussy needs fucking. And if I decide she gets spanked first, you’ll hold still and take your punishment.

Because you’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you? ”

It was embarrassing and degrading, but also ridiculously hot. My head swam with a dizzying degree of lust. Who knew being spoken to like a freakin sex slave would turn me on so much?

He slapped my sex again, which only grew wetter, and I held still. He rewarded my obedience with a caress, his palm stroking over my hip. “Good girl. Now take my cock.”

I moaned as his manhood nudged my entrance, then stretched me wide.

“Good girl,” he repeated.

I hummed, basking in his praise, even though he’d just called me a bad girl a moment before.

I’d loved that too, hadn’t I? Why I enjoyed any of it, I’d have to pick apart later.

Or not. Maybe it was best not to think too hard, or I’d be checking myself into therapy to figure out what happened to the career-minded feminist who held all facets of her life in control.

Darius gripped my hips and shoved in deep, picking up speed as he fucked me hard.

I’d never had a man so rough or capable.

Okay, to be honest, Derek, who I met freshman year in college, had been my first and only partner.

He hadn’t known what he was doing any better than I had and, even then, he’d often smoked too much dope to keep a hard on.

Together, we hadn’t figured out much. At least, we’d never figured out this .

This position. Or what Darius had done to bring me to climax earlier. I’d never known dominance or force. Hadn’t thought I’d enjoy it.

It occurred to me I ought to feel afraid, but I didn’t. Maybe because I sensed Darius’ skill and confidence. Or because even when he was rough, I felt his tightly leashed control. And he’d been so careful to get my consent first.

I moaned into the bedcovers, taking them between my teeth when the intensity built. I wanted to come, but I also never wanted it to end. “Please,” I whined.

“That’s it, baby. I love it when you beg.

” Darius surged forward, pushing me flat on my belly and changing the angle of his entry.

He thrust upward with hard, punishing strokes, pressing his hand down on my nape.

I expected to panic, but since his fingers weren’t on my throat, the show of dominance only turned me on.

I lifted my ass to take him deeper, my breasts rubbing against the sheets of the bed.

He made a growling noise, and my body started to quake, as if so in tune with him it sensed the promise of completion.

“Please… please,” I chanted.

His roar filled the small room, and he shoved deep and came, his larger body covering mine in complete ownership. My climax crested the moment he stopped moving, muscles clenching around his large cock in wave after wave of satisfied release.

My face flooded with emotion, like I was going to cry, although I couldn’t imagine why. The release. Or was it the vulnerability?

Darius’ body gave one last shudder, and he bit my neck.

Another spike of pleasure shot through me, and I melted into the bed, fully claimed.

He eased out and rolled beside me, his palm still draped over my nape, thumb lightly caressing my skin there.

I lay sprawled the way he’d left me, on my belly, legs spread wide, boneless.