Page 35 of Master

LIAM

Did you have fun, sweetheart?

I did.

They are so wonderful and welcoming.

Good.

I just got home. See you shortly.

This close to rush hour, it takes forever to make our way across town to Liam’s apartment. We finally reach our destination and park in the garage. Patrick opens my door and helps me from the backseat as Harry grabs my bags from the back. “I’ll bring these up for you, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” I mutter, still very uncomfortable with the treatment I’m receiving. We ride the elevator in silence, and Harry follows behind me into the apartment with my many bags in tow.

“Did you leave anything at the store?” Liam teasingly scoffs when he sees Harry’s full hands. “You can place them in her room, and she won’t need you or Patrick for the rest of the evening,” he tells Harry.

“Of course, sir.” He nods, quickly disappearing down the hallway. He returns moments later and silently lets himself out as Liam leads me toward the kitchen.

Liam leans against the counter and picks up his glass of whiskey. He takes a slow, savory sip and asks to hear more about my day. He listens attentively to every word, showing genuine interest in the mundane details of my day.

“Are you hungry?” he asks when I finish.

I shake my head. “Not really.”

Liam finishes his drink places it in the sink, and rounds the island to the barstool I’m sitting on. “I’m glad you enjoyed your day.” He smiles, parting my knees and sliding the back of his hand along my inner thigh. His fingers dust along my panties, and I bite my lip as his light touch quickly reminds me of how needy he has repeatedly left me today. Gripping my hips, he pulls me from the stool to my feet and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I enjoy seeing a smile on that stunning face of yours.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

LIAM

“You did such a good job following my rules today, sweetheart,” I croon, softly dragging my knuckles along Sasha’s jaw. Her skin warms under my tender touch, and her eyes fill with lust as I stare down at her with both pride and adoration.She follows my commands and rules so fucking well.I slip my fingers under her cream, cashmere open-front cardigan, and my hands slide over the soft, bare skin of her shoulders as I slip it from them. The fabric slides down her arms, and I push it over each of her hands and let it fall to the floor.

With my lips pressed to her shoulder, I slowly gather the fabric of her loose dress into my fists. I pepper kisses along her collarbone and neck until her dress is bunched around her waist. “I believe I promised to reward you for good behavior,” I whisper with my lips dusting against the shell of her ear. She lifts her arms as I pull the slate-gray dress up her torso and over her head. I drop it to the floor with her cardigan, leaving her before me in nothing but a matching black bra-and-panty set and a pair of stiletto booties.

And fuck, is it ever a sight.

I hoist her onto the countertop and can’t help but snicker at the tiny squeak she exhales when her bare arse hits the cold marble. Sliding my hands over her hips and down her thighs, I part her knees to make room for me. I lower my face to her lace-covered pussy. She lets out a sweet, needy whimper as I lick over the sheer fabric with the flat of my tongue; the sound is like a fucking drug.

I need more.

Slipping my fingers beneath the lace of her panties, I pull them to the side and place a wet kiss against the plump lips of her pussy. My tongue slides through her slit with my second kiss, dragging along her smooth flesh as I relish in the taste of her. Moaning with delight, I groan into her, “Your cunt is sinfully fucking delicious.”

Palming her ample tits as I kiss over them, I free them from the lacy cups of her bra. The tight peaks of her hardened nipples rub against my palms. Skimming my palms along her heaving breast, I pinch the tight pink buds and roll them between my fingers as I tug at them. Sasha’s ever-responsive body reacts to every touch, leaning into me and pleading for more. “How does my good girl want to come?” My question is muffled against her heaving tits.

She looks down at me with uncertain eyes, and her breathy voice raises an octave. “Sir?”

“You’re coming on my tongue,” I clarify, pressing my finger into her and rubbing the pad of my thumb around her swollen clit. Curling my finger and slowly dragging it along her walls, I ask, “Do you want it with or without my fingers?”

Continuing to teasingly work my fingers in her pussy, I stare up at her as I await a response. Her answer doesn’t come, though, and it leaves me wondering why she’s so hesitant to answer such a simple question.

“You’ve earned this, sweetheart.”—I cup her face with my free hand and still my finger—“Just as I’ll correct misbehavior, I want to show you how much I appreciate when you give yourself over to me. Tell me how you want me to please you.”

She hesitates, struggling to hold my stare. Her response is so timid that it’s barely audible. “Fingers.”

Resuming curling my finger, I hold her gaze as I kiss down her stomach. Between lingering wet kisses, I ask, “Fast and hard? Or slow and tender?”

“S…slow.”

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