In #1 New York Times bestselling author Kresley Cole’s The Master, the next installment in her sizzling Game Maker series, a need colder than Siberian winter meets an attitude hotter than the Florida sun when high-society-wife-turned-escort Catarina Marin encounters a client with very unique tastes. The two agree to keep their relationship business-casual, but the more they get of each other, the more they crave…
“I suppose you remain in the hopes of upselling me for the rest of the night. Maybe even offering me your private line?”
Although that was precisely what I’d been advised to do, I gave him a haughty smile. “I’m good for the night, and my private line stays private, querido. I’m just on my way out.”
When he dropped his towel and climbed into the bed, I turned to find my dress. From the bedroom, he gazed out into the sitting area, rising up on an elbow. I caught him ogling my body, actually tilting his head for maximal viewing.
Keep looking—last time you’ll ever get to see it.
Once I’d gotten my dress on, he lost interest and shifted over on his back, bending one brawny arm behind his head. I’d been so affected by what we’d done, while he behaved as if he’d just completed a bodily function.
It hurt. I wanted to hurt him back. “Apparently I need to remind you that tips aren’t included.”
In a forbidding tone, he said, “There’s cash on the dressing room console.”
I found a gold money clip filled with hundreds. Maybe two grand’s worth. “How much?” I called.
“Take whatever you think your performance deserves.”
Performance? What a dick! I’d come my brains out, and so had he! So I took it all, including the goddamned money clip. Passing the bedroom door, I said, “Thanks for the tip, pendejo.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t acting ingratiating.” He was still talking to me, engaging me?
I turned back to him.
Mocking sneer in place, he said, “You’re supposed to tell me how I moved heaven and earth for you. You’re supposed to fawn over me, increasing your chances that I’ll book you again.”
I gave him an aren’t you adorable? smile and purred, “Oh, baby boy, don’t you know statistics? Chances can’t be improved from one hundred percent.”
“That’s all you’ve got, Ruso?”
He went to his knees again and gripped my hips. “That was a warm-up.” Seeming to use every muscle in his body, he yanked me close as he shoved. “Uhn!”
I cried out, lifting up to meet his next thrust. He rocked into me; I rolled up to him. Once the two of us were in sync, our bodies moving together, he pistoned between my legs, railing me as I’d never been fucked before.
Fuck of the century? Try millennium! I was holding on for dear life, hovering on the very verge of orgasm.
“So tight,” he grunted, his jaw set as he pounded away. Each time he snatched me to him, his biceps bulged. His pecs flexed, hard slabs of muscle beneath sweat-lathered skin.
Just watching his toiling body pushed me closer to the brink. He enjoyed watching as well, was transfixed by my bouncing breasts.
The tension gathering inside me was about to release—if he kept up those long, deep thrusts. So close . . . so close . . .
Accent thick as gravel, he bit out, “I love the way you watch me with those stunning eyes. You like to watch me fuck you?”
“Yes! Máxim, you’re going . . . to make me come . . . hard!”
“Fuck. Fuck.” He swelled even more, until it was too much! “Can’t hold on!” The lines of his face grew tight, as if he were in misery. Then his body stilled.
No, no, no! No, keep moving!
His look of misery vanished, ecstasy lighting his face. He threw back his head and roared to the ceiling, his throat working, tendons bowstring-taut. He gave a brutal stab of his hips, then another, bellowing, “It’s . . . so . . . fucking . . . good!”
His shattering thrusts hurtled me over the brink. “Yes, yes, YES!” I screamed, my vision blurring. My back bowed, my breasts slipping across his sweating chest.
“Blyad´! I feel you!” As my core clenched him, he bit out, “You’ll have every last— ahh!—drop out of me!”
Hot. Wet. Bliss.
Continuing on and on and on . . .
Just when I could take no more, he shoved into me one last time. A long satisfied sound rumbled from his chest. His lids slid shut, and he collapsed over me.