Green Broke Woman (5 page)

“Easy,” he murmured with a calming brush of
his warm palm over her arm. “You're doing just fine.”

She spread her thighs wider and slowly
impaled herself on his cock, mewling at the pain of the insistent stretch.

“Rest if you need to.”

She inhaled and stayed like that, letting
herself adjust to the nagging girth spreading her wide open. The pad of his
finger tickled her clit, dragging a little sound of desperation from her.

His
forefinger rolled delectable circles all over her bundle of nerves until
resistance became utterly laughable. Her pussy lost control, constricting
around the filling head inside her. A strangled cry of need emerged from her,
but the sudden surge of cream eased the descending road she was on. Gradually, increment
by stretching increment slid into her tight channel, filling her with knowledge
and hard, masculine heat.

Master brought her forward and tucked her
into his chest as a child would cuddle with a beloved teddy bear, and he rolled
with Kayla until he hovered over her. It didn't seem to bother his leg like
she'd thought it might, though the motion nipped at her poor cunt with burning
pain.

“I've got you, cinnamon,” he whispered,
brushing the hair back from her face.

The fluffy pillow pushed the tips of her
glasses forward, annoying her ears, so she took them off, and then he laid them
on the nightstand. She could still see him well enough. Mostly she needed them
for reading.

“Just relax.” He brushed an almost weightless
kiss on her lips, basking her in the erotic warmth of his steamy breath.

Her vaginal muscles went as languid as they
could, knowing that his cock's advancement was inevitable and the pain
likewise. His hips thrust forward, and his erection advanced in her tight, achy
depths, tunneling through her virgin flesh until he filled her completely.

“Oh God!”

Her Master didn't move. He peppered feather-light
kisses all over her forehead and face, leaving a trail of warm moisture in the
wake of his kisses. “Are you all right, cinnamon?” He smiled when she nodded. “You're
doing great.”

Her voice shook. “Thanks.”

He didn't scold her for forgetting his title.
He lay motionless and waited for her to adjust to the length and width of his
unforeseen size. They remained like that for a while before her heart returned
within normal parameters and the achy burn in her pussy dulled to a tolerable
stretch.

She nodded and took a deep breath, running
her hand over his cheek. The stubble scraped against her palm, delighting and
calming her. “I'm ready.”

He smiled and dropped a final kiss on her
forehead before commencing a slow thrust inside her. The movements brought pain
at first, but gradually the fiery discomfort subsided and enjoyment supplanted
it. Master lay down on top of her, heating her with the intimate touch of his
skin as he pressed her down into the mattress with the weight of his body.

“You feel incredible wrapped around me,
slave,” he whispered gently into her ear before kissing her neck.

The word
slave
was endearing in this vulnerable, bonding moment. She wrapped her arms around
his neck, needing more of him. Discomfort ensued when his strokes became more
aggressive. He probably wasn't being a complete animal with her, but with his
size it felt like his dick was going bananas in there.

“Kayla,” he breathed, clenching his jaw as he
started to throttle harder into her soaked, aching cunt.

Master Hugh was completely masculine with not
a feminine quality to be had. In that moment he was the sheer definition of
beauty as he rocked against her body and screwed into her. His torso rubbed
against hers, exciting her beaded nipples.

The heady scent of sex filled her lungs mixed
with the alluring fragrances of his cologne and her perfume. Their flesh
sweated against each other, growing hotter and more desperate as friction played
out its role on their bodies.

He pulled her closer still and held her tight
as his body jerked and his cock dug into her channel at uncomfortable depths.
His ragged outcry told her he'd found his release. He went breathless, and his
weight crushed down on her smaller body as he lay in her arms, seeking his
breath.

Kayla played with his soft, graying hair and
trailed her fingertips along his manly back. She smiled when he shivered
beneath her weightless touch. His stubble felt soft yet scratchy against the
natural smoothness of her cheek.

“Was it okay?” she asked coyly. He'd probably
had better from experienced women. The irritating
hos
.

He chortled, still seeming overcome with
pleasurable exertion. “It was fantastic.”

“Oh good.
I liked it, too.”

He smiled down at her and gave her a sweet
kiss, pulling his cock out of her when the phone rang from the other room.

Her legs wobbled like Jell-O as she made her
unstable way to the bathroom. She enjoyed the hot, wet deluge of the shower
sluicing over her skin, but she wondered why Master wasn't joining her.

When she got out, she saw that her purse was
on the coffee table, though she didn't remember putting it there.

Master Hugh sat clothed on the couch with the
knuckles of his right hand resting against his contemplative face.

She wondered who had called, but she knew
better than to ask. If he wanted her to know, he'd tell her. “Is it time for
bed?”

He still seemed distracted, troubled even as
he stood. “You go ahead. I have to shower. I'll meet you in there.”

He behaved a little strangely, but he kissed
the top of her head before heading into the bathroom.

What was wrong with him?

She pushed the question aside and got ready
for bed. How could she leave next week when she loved him? She needed to tell
him. They'd never exchanged those words before, but she couldn't leave without
telling him.

****

Kayla sat in the passenger's seat the next
morning while Master Hugh drove. Her suitcase was in the backseat—the one he'd
insisted she pack. He didn't say a word to her, nor did he give her any
explanation as to why he was sending her away a week early.

Her eyes burned. She'd been a virgin last
night. He’d probably had a ton of experience given the more than two decades he
had on her.

Her voice cracked a little. “Did I ... did I
do something wrong in bed last night?”

His jaw hardened and his eyes became dark and
grieved. “No, Kayla. You were fantastic.”

Was he just saying that?

No. He was a very blunt, sometimes rude
person. He told it like it was, even when nobody asked or wanted to know.

Looking down at the small tent of his
partially aroused groin, she knew he'd enjoyed it as much as she had. But had
the encounter touched him as deeply as it had her?

Her heart ached when the obvious answer
glared back at her. He was sending her away early. The session had apparently
done nothing to move his soul as it had hers. Was it because that was just the
way men were, or did his lack of tenderness stem from his level of experience
sexually?

“Then why are you sending me away a week
early?” she whispered miserably.

He pulled into LAX and parked the car once he
found a spot and reached into his pants pocket.

“What are we doing at the airport?” She went
speechless when he held up a ticket.

“I bought you a ticket home.”

It took her a moment to collect her words as
he gently pressed the ticket into her open palm that he lifted. “What about my
new job here?”

“Forget all of this, Kayla.”

Forget? How could she?

“Forget me, your new job, and this whole
acting crapshoot and just go home to your sweetheart. You'll regret it later in
life if you don't.” Master's eyes were full of sorrow, seriousness, and the
ever-present sternness that demanded her respect without even trying.

Her voice broke in a tortured hush. “I don't
want to forget you.”

His tone became firm, though his octave was
still mellow and tragic. “You have to. Pretend all of this never happened.”

Her heart broke, and she gaped at him in
shock as he stared straight out the windshield, seeming cold and simultaneously
choked up, though he maintained an impressive amount of control compared to
her.

“You can cherish the memories in your heart,
but never speak of them, not to anyone. Do you understand me?” He looked at her
seriously like he'd punish her if she mentioned their time together to anyone.

Was he really so ashamed of her?

“I don't understand. I thought you liked me.”
Why the hell couldn't she get her voice up to a decent volume right now? All
this hushed pleading would likely get her nowhere, not that arguing with him
would either.

His eyes hooded, and his head dropped. “I do
like you, Kayla.”

Her heart swelled with happiness and ached
with need when he took her hand in his and caressed his thumb over the top of
hers.

The words that proceeded from his mouth
killed her. “But we can never see each other again.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. She had to wipe
them away to see his beloved face again.
“Why not?”

“It doesn't matter why. What matters is that
I trained you to be the perfect slave or sub, depending on what your cowboy wants.”
Master Hugh seemed beside himself, and the mature lines in his face only
deepened with each frustrated twist of his sad features. “If he's good to you,
don't let him go, but don't you settle for anything less than you deserve. I
taught you to be submissive, not stupid.”

Her eyes flooded with tears. “I want to stay
with you. Please don't send me away. I'll get better with practice, and you can
even stick your junk in my trunk.” She squeezed his hand tighter. “Just please
don't leave me.”

The way he stared down at the cup-holders
with a look of complex self-examination made her wonder if he was strongly
tempted to give into her.

“It's fucked up,” he murmured, half to
himself with an incredulous shake of his head. “It's so ironic it's staggering.
Just my luck.”

“What is? I can change if I'm not enough for
you. Please, Master.” She plastered her lips to the top of his hand and wept
onto his skin like it was going out of style.

He let her kiss him, but after an all too
short moment he pulled his hand away. The retreating motion of rejection
scourged her somewhere deep in her chest. It was like being spurned by Travis
Langley all over again, only this time the pain was deeper, so much worse. Was
it because she'd actually slept with Hugh Randall and submitted to him for two
years?

“I put some money in your wallet last night
after we made ... screwed.” He looked almost as depressed as she felt.

Kayla choked on a sob, feeling small and
stupid that he saw her cry and wasn't in tears himself. “Is that what we did—screwed?”

“What else would you call it when two people
fuck?”

Her soul shattered. This was out of character
for him. True, he was blunt, but he was never cruel with his words and he'd
always been sympathetic to her tears. Now she was drowning in them and falling
apart in front of him, and he didn't care.

She brushed away her tears and peeked into
her wallet, trying to be brave. “Thanks. How much did you give me?”

“Five hundred dollars.
Spend it wisely.”

Her jaw dropped.
“Why so
much?”

“You might need it.” He paused for a moment,
looking straight ahead. “I saw that picture last night while you were in the
shower—the one of you with three men. Who are they to you?”

She exhaled in relief. “Is that what this is
about? Master, you have nothing to worry about. Those are the Langley brothers.
They've been friends of mine since childhood.”

Master Hugh gave her a knowing look. “Which
one of them is the cowboy I trained you for?”

“Travis,” she said quietly.

“But you have feelings for all of them? Be
honest. I won't judge you.”

“Yes.” Her eyes closed in shame.

What must he think of her? Even if she found
the courage to tell him how she felt about him now, he'd never believe her, not
after she admitted to caring for three men at once, brothers no less.

“If you had to pick one of them, who would it
be?”

Kayla glanced down at the picture of the
three men she'd loved since childhood. Finally she shook her head, tears of
frustration pouring down her face. “I don't know. I can't. You pick for me,
Master.”

He took the photograph from her and studied
it. His lips twitched into a mildly interested half smile before misery lay
claim to his complexion again. “This one is trouble. I can tell. What's his
name?”

She smiled weakly at the handsome,
dark-haired cowboy he pointed to. “Jake. He's kind of a player.”