Page 96 of Over the Line

Before she fully understood what was happening, he picked her up again. “I should go away more often, Sir.”

“I think you should never leave.”

Her heart lurched to a momentary stop.

But before she could reply, he sat her on the edge of the table, distracting her, allowing her to tell herself his statement was nothing more than heat-of-the-moment ridiculousness.

After forcing her legs apart and pressing on her chest until she was lying on her back, he pulled a condom from his pocket.

“Sir has one thing on his mind,” she noted as he dropped his jeans.

His eyes dark, he looked down at her, making her shiver from anticipation. She’d seen him in a lot of moods, but this one, pulsating sexual dominance from the moment she’d arrived, was new.

“Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you like you were missed, my girl.”

“Fuck me like you missed me, Sir.”

Before entering her, he sheathed himself and spanked her pussy half a dozen times, making her gasp. She thrashed her head. Holy hell. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but it thrilled her.

Holding her ankles, he dragged her forward so that her butt was no longer on the table. She hung suspended, having to count on him to keep her safe as he ferociously ravaged her.

Repeatedly, he slammed into her pussy, shooting her senses into overdrive. “Sir!”

“Tell me, girl. Tell me what you want.”

“Oh, Sir! I need to come.”

“Take it.”

She was lost. The pain from the over-the-knee spanking, the slaps to her pussy, the sensation of weightlessness, and the days apart had left her dizzy.

He moved quickly, propping one of her legs on his shoulder. She was still exposed completely to him, and he pushed on her clit.

Sobs choking her, she screamed as she climaxed.

But he was unsatisfied. Voice gruff, he demanded, “Fucking give me more.”

Master Michael relentlessly toyed with her as he thrust, forcing her over the edge in another shattering orgasm. On and on he went, holding back his own orgasm as he incessantly sought to break her.

By the time he ejaculated, her pussy was swollen and tender, and a sheen of sweat dotted her exposed skin. “That was…”

“A short demonstration of how much I missed you.” He looked down at her, a lock of damp hair falling over his forehead.

She released a shaky breath. “You really know how to roll out the red carpet, Sir.”

Even after he’d helped her to stand, Sydney wobbled for a moment before regaining her footing.

“You’ll be okay if I leave you for a moment?”

Once she’d nodded, he went into the small bathroom, and when he returned, his jeans were fastened. He looked respectable, but damn it, still so appealing.

After bathing her between the legs, he asked, “Would you like to shower while I pour you a glass of wine and finish making dinner, or would you like to be the sous-chef? Watching you dice and chop while dressed like that is definitely intriguing.”

“Oh.” At one point while they’d been text messaging, he had mentioned dinner. “Thanks for the offer. I’m sure it would be wonderful, but I need to go home. I have an early-morning flight.”

“I see.” His eyes turned the color of iced emeralds, snaking a chill down her spine. “I’m a piece of meat to you? A quick fuck between trips? A means to an end?”

Jesus. His awful words landed with the force of a single-tail lash, and she recoiled. “No.” Frantically she shook her head. “You’ve got it wrong.”