Mr Masters: Chapter 8

I sit at the café’s table with a cup of coffee in my hands, and I stare through the window at the people on the streets as they casually wander to and fro.

How the fuck did I get myself in this situation?

I watched my boss jack off, and then I ran away like a scared little girl after I’d been flirting with him and asking for satisfaction.

It’s just embarrassing. But in my defense, that dick looked very angry, and I’m not quite sure I could have handled it anyway.

I get a vision of his face as he ejaculated, and my insides clench in appreciation. He’s so hot, it’s just ridiculous.

God, imagine fucking him.

I get tingles to my toes and wiggle on my chair to try and relieve the pressure between my legs. I’ve been dripping wet since 1:00 a.m. this morning.

What I wouldn’t give to see what he’s got to offer.

My email pings and I pick up my phone, smiling when I see the name.

What the hell do I say to that?

I put my hand over my mouth as I stare out the window and think. Okay, I’m just going to take the personal versus business line of thinking.

I shrug, hit reply, and smirk as I begin to type.

I hit send and hold my breath, rolling my fingers on the table as I wait for a reply. Finally, after five minutes, my email notification pings.

My eyes widen when I see the use of our first names, and I swallow the lump in my throat.

I smile and I look around the café to see if anyone can see me sitting here playing this silly game before I eventually reply.

I close my eyes and hit send. Oh my fucking god.

I put my hands over my face.

I wait for a reply, and I wait some more, but it doesn’t come. I glance at my watch. Half an hour goes by and my stomach is churning so hard. I order another cup of coffee because I simply can’t go home when I’m this nervous.

Why did I say that?

He thinks I’m coming on to him.

Have I misread everything?

My email finally pings, and I scramble to read it.

I pack up my bag and leave the coffee shop quickly. I’m going to have to think of a reply on this one, and also think about what I’m actually doing here. I should call Emerson to see what she thinks.

No.

I’m not telling her about this. She’ll just try and talk me out of it and I’m not in the mood.

I glance back to the café. Oh shit, I forgot to wait for my second coffee to arrive. I sit in the car and stare at my phone for a moment.

What do I write?

Okay. Let’s type.

I start the car and drive home with the goofiest smile plastered on my face.

I can’t believe I actually had the guts to write that. I have to talk to Emerson. No, I can’t let her know anything just yet. There isn’t really much to tell, and besides, I’m not in the mood for a lecture. I want to have frivolous fun, lecture free.

I pull the car into the carport and my email pings. I scramble through my handbag to retrieve it. I frown as I open it. It’s an invitation of some kind.

My mouth falls open at the last line.

Dress code slutty! What the fuck?

I burst out laughing. What do you wear when the dress code is slutty?

I go over the invitation again and again, until I register the date. Hang on… that’s tonight.

My phone rings, an unknown number appearing on the screen.

I answer, “Hello.”

‘Oh, hello, darling. It’s me, Frances.’

Julian’s mother. “Hello.” I smile.

“Julian isn’t able to get home from his conference tonight, he just called me. I will come and pick up the children at 6:00 p.m. and they can sleep at my house, if that’s okay?”

“No, you don’t have to,” I reply without thinking.

“No, it’s fine. I know you have plans tonight.”

I bite my bottom lip to stifle my smile. That’s right. I’m inspecting the situation. Visions of Julian wanking flash through my mind, and I smile to myself.

Is this really happening?

“That would be great, thank you,” I tell her.

“See you then, darling.”

“Thanks.” I hang up and get back into the car with renewed purpose.

I’ve got to get some laser, a pedicure, and some serious slut wear.

The cab pulls up in the circular parking bay of the ritzy Rosewood hotel. My heart is hammering so hard in my chest, I have no idea how I’m not in the hospital already. As soon as the children got picked up, I started running around in a mad flap to get ready.

I glance down at myself and shake my head. I’m wearing a large trench coat and looking super serious to the outside world, but underneath is a completely different story.

He wanted slutty…. he’s getting super slutty.

I’m wearing a white, short, tight dress, with a red lacy bra peeking out. I’m in matching red stilettos, holding a matching clutch, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if you can see my red G-string through my dress. I’m cringing just thinking about it. I even got a spray tan to complete the whole look.

I look like a hooker—a cheap, dirty hooker.

My hair is down and curled, pinned back on one side, and my lipstick matches my shoes. I reapply my lipstick in my compact, and I smirk. I spent a fortune today looking this cheap.

He’d better appreciate it.

The driver comes around and opens my door, smiling at me as I get out. He’s probably hoping I will pay for my cab ride with a blow job.

“Thank you,” I offer.

My stomach churns as I walk into the foyer and follow the signs for the Scarfe Bar. I stand at the door and I psych myself up. Should I take the jacket off?

Yes, you’ve come this far. You came to London to break free of your constraints.

Just do it.

I slide my coat off and give it to the cloak man, and he raises his eyebrows, clearly excited. I look at him deadpan. I don’t think so.

I exhale heavily, drop my shoulders, and then I walk into the bar looking for my date.

Wow, this place is something else. My eyes roam around the exotic space. There is a rosewood bar that runs the length of the large room, with different luxury velvet color stools lining it. Behind the mirrored bar there are shelves filled with every expensive looking drink you could imagine. There’s even a huge fireplace in here, as well as beautiful, big sofas in the same exotic colors as the bar stools. A piano is being played and the room is filled with people having Friday night cocktails. Their chatter and laughter fills the room.

Oh, sweet Jesus, I’m wearing a white dress and red underwear.

Help me! My eyes go over to the fireplace. I scan every chair, then I look over to the bar along the stools in search of him. Is he even here?

I glance at the tables just in front of me, and I see him sitting back in his chair, wearing a dark charcoal suit. His handsome face and big brown eyes are watching me, wearing a sexy grin.

He stands and comes to greet me. “Hello,” he purrs.

He kisses my cheek and the skin on my arms bursts to life. “Hi,” I whisper.

He stands back and his hungry eyes drop down my body. “Please, come and take a seat.”

Julian takes my hand and leads me to the table in the darkened corner he was sitting at. My heart feels like it’s seriously trying to escape my chest. I sit nervously, and he takes the seat opposite me. He leans back and rests his elbows on the side of the chair, his pointer finger trailing across his big lips as he smirks. “You look as sexy as fuck,” he whispers.

Oh man, I may not be able to take this night. It seems so weird seeing him in this context, and I smile awkwardly. I go to pull my dress down and he holds his hand up. “Don’t pull your dress down, I want to see.”

My eyes widen.

I sit back nervously.

A bartender walks past. “Can I please have a Blue Label Scotch on the rocks? And what would you like, Bree?”

“I’ll have a margarita, please.”

The bartender disappears back to the bar and my eyes fall back to Julian. “This is gorgeous.” I smile.

“Like you.”

“You make me so nervous,” I whisper.

His smirk grows. “You should be nervous. I’ve never been this physically attracted to a woman before.

I get a much-needed boost of confidence just as the waiter returns with our drinks.

“Thank you.” I smile as I reach for mine. I take a sip and lick my lips. “Oh, this is so good.”

Julian leans forward and cups my face in his hands, and I feel like I stop breathing. His eyes pierce mine, then he leans in and softly kisses my lips, and then licks his lips. “It does taste good,” he whispers.

My breath catches.

I have no words for how hot this man is.

He kisses me softly again and I feel myself lift from my chair.

“I have an offer for you.”

“An offer?” I ask.

“On these nights out, you can have my body, but you must know that my heart or my private home life isn’t up for negotiation. I will not discuss these nights at all with you in my home environment. You are a different person to me when you’re at work in my home.” He kisses me softly again and my eyes close.

Oh God, it’s the perfect kiss. Suction, softness, and a promise of what’s to come.

“I know,” I whisper.

“You need to think very carefully about what you’re agreeing to,” he mumbles against my lips. “I’m not wired like most men.” He dusts his thumb back and forth over my bottom lip as he watches me.

He’s so fucking intense.

He pulls me forward, dropping his lips to my neck, and my head falls back as my eyes close in pleasure.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

I’m in a bar with my red lingerie hanging out, making out like a prepubescent teenager.

“Do you want to dance with the Devil?” He bites my neck hard and I whimper.

His lips continue to roam up and down my neck.

“You need to protect yourself, because I can’t protect you from me,” he whispers against my skin.

I pull back and my eyes search his. “Are you warning me, Julian?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

I smile softly. “Maybe you’ll be the one who gets hurt?”

He kisses me again and smiles as he cups my face in his hands. His eyes have a tender glow to them. “Beautiful Bree and her enchanting optimism.”

An uneasy feeling swirls deep within me. He’s warning me that he’s going to hurt me—to run while I can.

And I know I should.

Alarm bells ring in the distance. Who am I kidding? There is no distance; they scream all around me. I know for certain that this is dangerous territory, but dancing with an honest devil sounds so much more appealing than sleeping with a lying god.

He kisses me softly, once more, and pulls back to lick his lips. “I would like to go upstairs to our room now.”

My nerves return and my eyes search his. “What’s the rush?”

“I need to get my tongue between your legs.”

What the fuck?

He smiles darkly. “I’ve needed to know how you taste since you arrived. I’m salivating, and I can’t take the suspense a moment longer.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Let’s cut to the chase and get straight to it then,” I croak.

He chuckles, and it’s a deep, sexy sound. “I’m not here to romance you, Bree, I’m here to take my pleasure from your body.” He leans forward and takes my face in his hands. “And I’m going to fuck you so damn good, no man will ever compare.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

Run… run the fuck away, right now!

No man can even compare already and he hasn’t even touched me yet.

He stands and holds his hand out for me to take. I drain my glass in one gulp and take his hand, and then the two of us walk to the elevator.

Once inside he rubs his thumb back and forth over the back of my hand.

My nerves are at an all time high.

What if he’s into kinky shit?

Anal.

What if he wants anal?

Oh God, I didn’t think this through at all.

A trace of a smile crosses his face as he watches me, like he knows what’s running through my head, the bastard.

Maybe I’ll be the tenth nanny to leave, because I’ll be in the hospital with a broken vagina.

What a way to go, though.

Nobody even knows I’m here tonight. I didn’t tell Emerson. He could be a serial killer for all I know.

The lift goes all the way to the top. When the doors open, he picks up my hand and kisses the back of it, and the two of us walk down the corridor.

This hotel is out of this world–so luxurious.

He takes the key from his pocket, opens the door, and my eyes widen.

In front of me is a huge sitting room, housing a beautiful couch along with two armchairs that sit in front of a fireplace. On the table, there’s a silver bucket filled with ice, as well as a bottle of champagne and a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries to compliment it. There are also two very expensive crystal glasses waiting to be filled.

To the left, there’s a king-size bed with velvet coverings draped over the top, and a huge, gilded gold standing mirror has been placed in front of the window, facing the bed. I can see the white marble bathroom down the hall.

“Wow,” I whisper as I look around.

Julian walks to the table and pours two glasses of champagne before he hands one to me. I take a sip, and he cups my face in his palm, licking the remnants of moisture from my lips.

His tongue explores my mouth, and my insides begin to melt.

I pull back and take another sip, my breathing becoming ragged.

“Don’t be nervous. I won’t hurt you.”

“I just haven’t…” My voice trails off.

“You haven’t what?” He holds my glass up to my lips, urging me to drink more.

“I haven’t had sex in over a year.”

He smiles as his hand roams around to my behind. “Do you have any idea what an aphrodisiac that is?”

His lips drop to my neck, and I take the opportunity to drain my glass.

I need the whole fucking bottle.

His hands roam over my dress, his palm settling on my breast before he squeezes it roughly.

“I need you naked. I need you naked now.” In one swift move, he lifts my dress over my head until I’m left standing before him in nothing but my red lingerie.

He smiles as he slowly traces his finger over my breast, and then down my stomach, over my sex. “I’ve been dreaming about this,” he whispers.

“You have?”

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

My breathing falters as my nerves take over, and I desperately try to control it, but it’s no use.

Julian reaches around and unlatches my bra, removing it slowly. His eyes glow with arousal as he leans back and inspects me, cupping my breast in his hand, once again.

“You have bigger breasts than I thought.” He bends down, takes one in his mouth, and begins to suck.

My eyes close and my head falls back. Holy shit.

He slides my panties down my legs, removing them from my feet until I’m standing before him, completely naked.

His eyes flicker with arousal, and all his control slips away when he presses forward and kisses me aggressively. His hands are in my hair, rough whiskers against my face, and his tongue delves deeper into my mouth.

Arousal thrums between my legs and he walks me over to the mirror at the end of the bed, turning me to stand in front of it.

Breaking away, he walks to a large, dark green ottoman that’s been placed in front of the fire. He lifts and drags it closer, bringing it to me. “Put your leg up on this.”

I frown.

He lifts one of my legs so that it is resting up on the ottoman.

He drops to his knees in front of me.

Dear God.

When Julian leans in and presses his face into my sex, I close my eyes and listen to the way he inhales deeply.

Holy fucking hell.

His mouth drops lower and lower. He pulls my sex apart and licks it.

“Watch,” he moans against me.

I drag my eyes to the mirror to see him still dressed in his suit, on his knees in front of me, sucking on my sex. His head bobs back and forth, and his eyes are closed, like he’s getting as much pleasure from this as I am. I feel like I’m having an out of body experience, hovering way above watching.

He’s a god.

All at once he seems to lose control and he lifts my leg higher to give himself better access. I whimper as I hold the back of his head, pressing him to me.

My mouth hangs open, desperate for oxygen as my breathing gets heavier, when Julian suddenly stands and kicks his shoes off. “Undress me,” he commands.

I take off his jacket, and then slowly unbutton his shirt. His chest is broad and he has a scattering of dark hair there.

My body begins to tingle.

I peel his shirt open and push it over his shoulders. My eyes roam over him. He’s absolutely perfect. I unfasten his trousers and then slowly slide them down his legs, along with his briefs.

His cock springs free, and my mouth falls open even wider.

What the fuck?

He’s huge and thick. Oh my God, he’s like another species.

I stand still, bewildered as I stare down at his dick.

“I won’t hurt you,” he breathes.

I raise my eyebrow sarcastically.

“We’ll take it easy tonight,” he promises as his fingers find that spot between my legs. He pauses before he pushes three fingers in.

I cry out without restraint.

That’s not taking it easy.

‘Get on your back,’ he orders, losing control. He kisses me as he walks me back towards to the bed, and then he carefully lays me down.

Julian spreads my legs and positions his body between them, spreading me open for his private viewing, and my back arches off the bed.

Then he is on me, licking, sucking, tormenting. He pumps me with three fingers, then four, and my back arches off the bed again, making me rise higher.

His thrusts get harder and harder, and the bed begins to rock.

His mouth hangs slack, but all he can do is smile as he watches my face. “You like that, baby girl?” he whispers.

I nod, unable to speak and he rolls a condom on.

Oh fuck… do I ever.

I grip his shoulders as a shudder runs through me. I’m so close to orgasming. “Jules,” I pant.

“Let it go. I need you creamy and loose.” I begin to moan, and he smiles down at me. “That’s it. Give it up for me.”

I cry out and convulse, my whole body thrusting forward. Without warning, he forces me back, pressing his body against mine and trapping me beneath him right before pushing himself inside of me.

My eyes widen. Oh… He’s big.

He stays still to let me acclimatize to his size. “You okay?” he breathes, kissing me softly.

I nod, and he finally moves to slide out of me, but only for a moment, and then he’s sliding back home where he belongs.

He kisses me again as he pulls out and slides back in. He does over and over, until, somehow, we are going hard at it.

His cock is working me, building me up, using my body, and I can do nothing but hold on.

The sound of our skin slapping together echoes all around the room. Perspiration dusts his skin, and I cling to him as his body moves like magic.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Fucking hell. This is so….” His voice is unrecognizable, and I smile to myself. I love him like this.

“I knew you would be amazing.” He hits me hard. “I knew you would blow my fucking mind.”

He starts to lose control and really lets me have it. In another breath, I convulse forward, and he comes in a rush.

He holds me close, his kiss aggressive. My breaths are strained as I try to control my breathing. He moves slowly, still inside of me, and then he pulls out and stands up to take his condom off. He carefully ties the end of it, disposing of it quickly.

He smiles down at me and brushes the hair back from my forehead. I feel so vulnerable lying here naked, weak from orgasm. He rearranges the pillows behind me so that I am propped up.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I want you to watch.”

“Watch what?”

He lies back down between my legs and his mouth drops to my sex.

Oh God.

His dark eyes hold mine as his tongue begins to explore my sex with long, hard licks.

My heart is racing wildly. No man has ever done this. No man has ever gone down on me after sex.

This is so fucking hot.

His lips are glistening, and I sit with my legs spread wide as I watch him eat me like I’m his last supper.

His hands rest on my inner thighs, and every now and then he smiles into me, as if he can’t believe this is happening, either.

I frown as I watch him, strangely detached yet completely immersed.

He loves this, he absolutely loves this. This isn’t for me. This is for him.

He never stops, continuing his exploration for over fifteen minutes, until I’m writhing on the bed, once again.

I need him inside me again. “Jules,” I whimper.

He smiles at me and bites my clitoris, causing me to jump. Then he sits me up to kiss me and I can taste my own arousal on his lips. He’s only gentle for a brief moment before he turns me over and positions me on my knees, spreading my legs as far as he can.

I glance up and watch us in the mirror.

He slowly rolls another condom on then runs his hands up and down my back as he studies my body. His hard cock hangs heavily between his legs. He nudges my opening, his mouth hanging open in awe, and his thumb rubbing over my back entrance.

Oh shit. I hold my breath. “No, Jules,” I whimper. “Not yet.”

He clenches his jaw, moving back to my sex to slowly slide in deep. We both moan in unison. He’s so good at this.

He pulls out slowly and slams back in all at once, knocking the air from my lungs, forcing me to cry out. Shit. Then he lets me have it. My hips are in his hands as he aggressively slams me back onto him. I watch him in the mirror and his words from earlier come back to me.

I will take my pleasure from your body.

That’s exactly what he’s doing. He knows what he wants, he knows exactly what his body needs, and he’s just feeding it. There is something so primal about the way he fucks my body, it’s turning me inside out.

I shudder as I come in a rush, and I moan.

Our bodies continue to slam together, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Julian is lost in his own headspace, and he tips his head back, closing his eyes as the ecstasy takes over. He picks up his pace, hitting me harder, and I scrunch the sheets between my fingers as I try and protect myself from the beating my body is taking.

I glance up to the mirror and see myself—hair dishevelled, red lipstick, covered in perspiration, and my breasts bouncing while I’m being fucked hard by God’s gift to women. His mouth hangs open as he watches the place where our bodies meet. His thumb sits over my back entrance, and it’s clear to see he’s in another world, totally oblivious to all that surrounds him.

This is definitely not your average Friday night.

He growls, losing control, and he scrunches his features together, pounding me hard. So fucking hard, I try my hardest to deal with the force of it.

When he comes, he holds himself still, deep inside of me before he convulses forward.

His face—oh God, his face. Words cannot describe how beautiful his face is when he comes.

He falls over me and I giggle to myself.

“If that was you going easy on me, what the hell happens when you go hard?” I pant.

He chuckles and falls onto the bed, pulling me over him. “Hmm, slight change of plan,” he mutters as he kisses me.

We try to catch our breath, and I lie with my head on his chest listening to his heavy heartbeat.

I roll off him and lean up onto my elbow so I can watch him.

“What?” he asks.

“Quite the Jekyll and Hyde, aren’t you?”

He smirks. “I could say the same about you.”

I act offended. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was born to be a sweet nanny.”

He smiles, his hand finding that spot between my legs, and he slides one of his thick fingers into me again. “You were born to fuck.” He pumps me hard and I wince. Ouch, I’m sore. “This beautiful body of yours is built for sin.”

I smile and pull his hand out of me. “Yeah, well, this beautiful body of mine can’t take any more. Down, boy.”

A trace of a smile crosses his face. “Until next time.”

I lean in and kiss him softly. “Until next time,” I breathe.

He kisses me again and again, and I can feel his dick hardening against my stomach. Jesus, how long can he go for?

I thought men’s sexual stamina was supposed to decrease with age, but that’s definitely not the case here. My sex is throbbing and painful, swollen from the carnage. “I just can’t, Jules,” I breathe against his lips.

He pulls back from me immediately. “Sorry.” He frowns as he stands. “I can be too much to take.”

He takes my hand, pulls me from the bed, and leads me into the bathroom to run a shower. He turns toward me and studies my face as he runs his fingers through my long hair. “Do you have a hair tie?”

I nod.

“Where is it? I’ll get it for you.”

“In my handbag.”

He disappears, returning only moments later to carefully tie my hair up into a bun on top of my head. My hands rest on his naked hips as he concentrates on his task. He’s gentle and caring—so different from the animal that just fucked me ten minutes ago.

He really is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

He leads me into the shower and washes me tenderly with sweet smelling soap, caressing my arms, breasts, stomach, my sex, and down my legs. I feel like a child being looked after, and this feels surprisingly intimate. His attention returns to my face, and he cups my cheek in his hand.

“You’re quiet,” he whispers, his lips lingering over mine.

We share a soft kiss.

“I’m in a little bit of shock, to be honest,” I say against his lips.

“Why?”

“That was arguably the best sex I’ve ever had.” He smiles sheepishly.

“We’ve only just started, baby girl.”

“Are you sure about that?”

His tongue swipes through my open lips. God, my whole body is open for him. “This is the beginning of a wonderful arrangement.”

Arrangement. I don’t like the word ‘arrangement’. We stay silent in each other’s arms for a while longer, and eventually he steps out and wraps me in a towel. He dries me, taking care of every inch of my skin with a tender touch, and then he finds my clothes and dresses me.

It’s like this is part of his game, to look after me after he has ripped my body apart. Or perhaps he feels guilty for being so rough.

I’m not sure, but I do feel confused, yet cared for and so fucking satisfied.

I watch him as he dresses back into his suit, and then looks around the room. “Do you have everything?” he asks.

Are we going home now? “Yes,” I answer.

“Let’s get going.” He turns towards the door, remembering something and turning back to retrieve his wallet. “I got this for you.” He passes me a gold card and I stare at it in my hands.

It’s a credit card.

What?

“I’m not a hooker, Julian.”

He frowns. “I know that, I got it for you for incidentals.”

“Such as?” I frown.

“Things that you may need for our meetings.”

I stare at him blankly. “Like what?”

“The outfits I want you to wear. Personal care. Lasering. Things like that. Spend it as you wish. The card has no limit.”

My eyes drop to the card in my hand. “When did you order this?”

“Last week,” he says casually as he looks around the room.

I put my hand on my hip. “So, you knew I would be here doing this with you eventually.”

He smiles, leans in, and kisses me on the lips. “That was my agenda, yes.”

Are you kidding me?

“Come on, let’s go.”

I glance at my watch. It’s 10:30 p.m. We literally just fucked for two hours and now the date is over. He takes my hand and leads me out of the room, back into the elevator and down to the parking lot.

I stay silent because… what is there to say?

He told me he was going to fuck me without any strings attached, and that’s just what he did. Except now there is a limitless credit card attached to our arrangement.

Stop overthinking this.

We get to the car and he takes my face in his hands to kiss me. It’s deep and erotic, and my feet lift off the ground to get closer to him. “You were amazing,” he breathes.

I force a smile but stay quiet.

“Everything alright?” he asks, studying my face.

I nod. “Yes.” But I’m just not sure that’s the truth. I feel off, and I can’t put my finger on which part of the night brought that feeling on.

The drive home is made in complete silence, all the way to him opening the front door to his house.

“Goodnight, Miss Brielle,” he says coldly, right before he walks away, making the trek up the stairs to his room. He doesn’t look back and he doesn’t wait for me to respond.

I stand in the foyer, bewildered, watching his body until it disappears out of sight.

What the fuck just happened?