Masters at Arms by Kallypso Masters Page B

another
orgasm rising up inside her. Good Lord! Again? So soon? The muscles
of her vagina pulsated around him, milking him dry. She closed her
eyes and threw her head back in abandon. Her screams of release
coincided with his earthy curse as he exploded inside her.
    Her body convulsed around him as the
aftershocks wracked her body. As she floated back to earth, she
felt his forehead pressed to her breast as he gasped for air. She
needed to get him off her chest. Smothering.
    She threaded her fingers through his hair and
grasped the sides of his head to pull him away until their gazes
met. He looked disconnected. Lost. Oh, no! Hadn’t it been
good for him? She’d become so used to just letting men do as they
pleased with her body—an object, nothing but a receptacle—that she
didn’t have the first clue how to give back. She’d never been
emotionally engaged in the sex act before.
    Tears burned against the backs of her eyes.
Why couldn’t she quit crying? She hadn’t given in to tears for such
a long time. Now she was crying all the time.
    She looked at Damián as he gasped for air.
He’d done all the work. Was there something she was supposed to do
now? Had she failed him?
    “Fucking unbelievable.” He smiled.
    Oh, Lord . He liked it! A laugh of
relief bubbled up inside her. His earthy language turned her on. He
could talk dirty to her all day long.
    “You can say that again.”
    “I’d rather do it again.”
    She realized he was still hard inside her.
Worried again, she asked, “Didn’t you come?”
    “Oh, yeah, bebé . But let’s do it again
before my dick gets the message.”
    Good Lord! Her prior experience had
been with her father, who took hours to be ready to go at it again.
Thank God. She’d never had sex with anyone close to her own age
before.
    Most days, she felt more like ninety herself.
Still, she’d had three orgasms in a matter of a few minutes. With a
stranger, no less. And why didn’t she care? Today, she just wanted
to feel young, carefree—and alive.
    Damián had given her the most beautiful
experience of her life. But he only made her want more. She didn’t
want this day to ever end. She pulled his mouth toward her and just
before they made contact, she whispered, “Fuck me.”
    * * *
    An hour later, Damián collapsed onto his back
on the wet sand. Mierda , he couldn’t get enough of this
woman. Her screams reverberated around the walls of his mind from
her last orgasm. How many was that for her now? Six? Seven? Madre de Dios .
    When he thought he could string two coherent
words together again, he raised himself onto his side and propped
his head into his cupped hand. He just stared down at her, his hand
playing with the strands of her hair curled around one of her
tits.
    She smiled up at him, but he saw sadness in
her expression. Regrets already?
    “What are you thinking, querida ?” he
asked.
    “I wish we could stay here forever.”
    Ah, now that kind of regret he could live
with. He bent down and kissed her, gently this time. So sweet. Pure
torture. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to make love again and didn’t
care. He just wanted to feel her lips, her body, against his. As if
ruled by a mind of its own, his hand reached out to cup her firm
breast. He couldn’t keep his hands or lips off her.
    But he knew they couldn’t stay here forever.
He wondered what she was going to do now. He hoped she wouldn’t
return to being a paid escort. She deserved a better life than
that.
    Raising his head again to look at her, he
asked, “If you could have any job you wanted, what would it
be?”
    He watched her teeth trap the corner of her
bottom lip between them and she puckered her brow as she thought
about the question. Then she smiled and shrugged, as if it were a
pipe dream. “A social worker. I’d like to work with abused
kids.”
    Wow. What would someone like her know about
abused kids? Well, she certainly was an abused adult. Something
like that would require a lot of