King of Masters by Brynn Ford

CHAPTER 8

Stella

I'VE BEEN RUNNING to my phone every day for the last month. Surprisingly, my daily talks with Murphy have become the highlight of my day. I get on the phone with him each day after work and we chat until I get home safely.

Sometimes, when the mood is right, we stay on a bit longer, switch over to webcams on our laptops, and indulge ourselves in some rather obscene adult time.

Murphy’s obscenity is mystical.

His filth is transcendental.

And that’s all just through a computer screen.

But today has been something else entirely. We’ve been shooting filthy texts back and forth all day, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this recklessly horny. I just finished with a client, and I’ve only got one more before we close. I have ten minutes before my appointment though, and Murphy insisted he needed to see my face, only if just for a minute.

I tell Cora I’m going to the bathroom and proceed to the back of the shop. I lock myself in the private space, then start a video call, popping in my wireless ear buds so no one can hear him.

He comes up on the screen and my smile stretches across my cheeks. His face is close to the screen, and it looks like he’s outside walking somewhere.

“Hey, I’ve got a few minutes. Where are you?”

“Nowhere,” he says, letting a half-smile curl his lips. “I just wanted to see if you were blushing after the last few texts.”

“Blushing?” I lower my voice. “Honey, if you could only see between my legs.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I’ve only got one more client, then I’m heading straight home. I’ll show you everything then. Promise.”

“I want you to show me now, Stella.”

“Are there people around you?” It’s noisy, wherever he is. “They’ll see.”

“I have a tinted privacy screen on my phone. No one will see except for me. Show me, Stella.”

“Murphy—”

“Stella, put your phone between your legs and show me how wet your panties are. I need to know.” His grin is cheeky. “I need to know right now.”

“What if I told you I’m wearing jeans?”

“Then I’d tell you to pull them down. Are you wearing jeans?”

“No, I’m wearing a perfectly adorable polka dot dress.”

“Perfect. Show me.”

I bite my lip, debating whether I should. I want to. I really want to. He’s clearly out in public somewhere, so it’s not exactly a private call, but knowing that edges my excitement to peak heights.

“Okay,” I say quickly, shimmying up my skirt with one hand.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen the goodies on screen before, I’ve just never done it with my phone and while I’m at work…and without being able to finish myself off, no less. If I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna make a fucking show out of it.

He brings the wildness out of me.

I lean my back against the wall and jut my hips forward, slowly moving my phone between my legs, turning it until I get the angle right. I can see the wet spot soaked through my white cotton panties on the screen. I only show him for a few seconds before I bring my phone back up to my face. His eyes are narrowed on the screen and it tugs a sinful smile from my lips.

“Satisfied?”

“Hardly, but it’ll have to do. I’m heading in for an appointment now, so I guess we’ll both have to wait a bit to finish off.”

“Send me another dirty text if you can later…Keep me warmed up for you, you know?”

“I know, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I have no doubt you’ll be plenty warm the next time you see my face.”

“No doubt,” I agree, warmth spreading through my belly. I hear the bells clang against our front door and know my next client is on their way in. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll call when I’m leaving, okay?”

“Go tend to your client. And Stella…I expect you to do your best work ever.”

I chuckle. “While I’m all hot and bothered like this?”

He smiles and my whole world brightens. “Be a good girl,” he tells me and I literally swoon.

I might’ve fainted dramatically on the floor if I weren’t a goddamn professional with a business to run. He ends the call abruptly, as he often does. When the conversation is over with him, it’s over.

I take a minute to straighten myself out, brushing down my skirt before exiting the bathroom. It’s just me and Cora in the shop, and she’s already done with her last appointment. So, when I step out, I know the man standing near the door with his back to me is my next client. I approach, but Cora catches my eye from where she stands behind the counter. She looks positively gobsmacked, her eyes wide and staring at the waiting man.

“What?” I ask her.

I fully stop when I turn my gaze to him again, when I look at him—really look at him—and a punch of adrenaline shoots through my veins. I take a step back. I draw in a deep breath as I assess the truth in front of me. The man is wearing a familiar sleek black peacoat, perfectly pressed gray slacks, and black dress shoes.

“Oh, my fucking God.”

He turns to face me as I nearly stumble backward from shock.

It’s Murphy.

Murphy O’Shea is here.

He’s grinning at me.

And I’m standing here with my mouth gaping open in shock, realizing I’m an absolute moron—the name of my next client is John Smith. John Smith. The fakest of fake names I’ve ever heard.

“Are you John fucking Smith?”

“Of course not, but I did schedule an appointment under that name so I could surprise you.” He smiles and I lose my shit.

I run for him, throwing myself into his open arms. He lifts me easily from the floor, squeezing me tight. I melt into his hold, an odd relief washing over me, a feeling like finding my way home after being lost for so long.

He nudges his nose against my hair and whispers into my ear, “Do you greet all your clients like this?”

“Only the sexy ones.”

Begrudgingly, I let go of him and take a step back, but he takes my face in his hands, tilting it up as his smile brightens. “Hello there, sweetheart.”

I disintegrate into ash. A gentle breeze could blow me away right now. The metal of the rings on his hands digs into my skin as he dips to plant a bruising kiss to my lips.

We groan in unison. The ache of lust that’s been building between us shatters like a dam wall, flooding me with swelling excitement for finally feeling his touch, his kiss.

“What are you doing here?” I ask when the kiss ends.

“I needed a tattoo. Figured I’d come to the best.” He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, myGod.

I whimper. My chest hurts and my stomach swirls, tingles rippling beneath my skin as need pulses through me. I’m shaking—literally shaking—for this man, and I’ve never, ever felt this way before.

I snake my arms around his waist and hug him close, forcing him to drop his hands from my cheeks. “I missed you. I fucking missed you so much, Murphy.”

He slowly exhales and I can feel tension leave him as his chest sinks. “I missed you.” He kisses my hair and it puts me straight into swoon-mode.

I’m feeling way too much for this man.

“How long are you here for?”

“A day, maybe two if I can swing it.”

I pull back and lift my chin to look up at him. “I’ll bet you can swing it.”

“We’ll see…” His eyes narrow a little as he looks at me. “You’re every bit as perfect as I remember.”

I sigh happily. “So are you.”

Cora makes a noise from behind me and suddenly, I remember where I am. I wipe my hand across my mouth—as if that will clear away the flush of my warming skin—and spin around to face her. “Cora, you remember Murphy.” I mouth the words “Oh, my God,” to her.

She gives a polite smile and nods a little. “Yeah, I remember. Good to see you.” Her voice is kind, though her expression is strained.

“Likewise,” he replies kindly from behind me.

He takes a step closer and I feel his hand land secretly on my ass. I press my lips together to stifle a whimper.

“So, you don’t have to stay,” I tell Cora. “I’m fine to do him…um…do his tattoo. And then I’ll close up.” I nod toward the door, giving her the hint. “You can head on out.”

She tilts her head appraisingly. “And what about your very strict rule that no female artist closes shop alone?”

“Well, I won’t be alone, will I?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. I’ll stick around until you’re done.”

“Cora.”

“Stella.”

Murphy squeezes my ass and I nearly yelp. I twirl to face him. “Go have a seat over at my station,” I point behind me, “and I’ll be right over.”

He gives me a once over with his brilliant eyes, the corner of his lips curving into a half-smile. He nods and moves past me to my station at the back.

I rush around the counter to Cora, moving in close and bringing my voice down to a whisper. “I swear, I’ll be fine. You can go home.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with this. Did he just fly across the ocean and show up unannounced?”

I raise a brow. “Disturbingly romantic, right?”

“Disturbing, maybe. I mean, he’s kind of got you on the hook now, right? What if you didn’t want to see him? I’m reading toxic behavior all over this, babe.”

“You’re reading too much into it. You don’t understand the connection we have.”

“I understand you’re a bit obsessed with each other.”

I sigh, my shoulders drooping. “Cora, I’m happy. I’m fucking ecstatic that he’s here.”

She tilts her head with a look of disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m really not trying to rain on your parade, but damn, Stella. I’m just shocked at your reaction to this.”

“Then that should be telling you that I’m seriously into him. And I promise, I’m absolutely safe with him. So will you please let me have this unexpected time alone with him?” I beg her with my eyes.

She stares at me for a minute before softening, letting out a slow breath. “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m on the record about feeling uncomfortable with this.”

“Duly noted.”

“I want you to call me in one hour. If you don’t, I’m gonna hunt you down to make sure you’re okay. Fair?”

“Fair, babe.”

She gives me a hug. “I’m happy you’re happy, just guard your heart with this one, okay?” She pulls back and gives me a smile. “Love you.”

I nod. “I will. Love you, too.”

“Don’t forget to use a condom this time,” she says loud enough for him to hear.

“Cora!” I swat at her arm.

I turn to head back to my station and she swats me on the ass. “Don’t forget to put your back into it, ho.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder to look back at her with a grin. “Always.”

I hear Cora’s purse hit the counter and her keys jingle behind me as she preps to leave. I steel myself as I head over to my station at the back. Murphy has taken off his coat and sits in the chair with his feet up. The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his arm tattoos.

I’m already feeling flustered by the time I arrive at his side, plopping down onto my rolling stool beside him.

I tilt my head to the side as our eyes meet. My heart flutters and my stomach rolls into nervous but pleasant knots.

“Bye, babe!” Cora yells as she exits, and I give her a quick wave.

“So, you wanted new ink?”

“Aye.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Come here,” he commands, sitting up, turning so his legs dangle off the side of the chair. “Stand up.”

Lust and excitement rush through my veins with every pulse, my skin humming with desire. I push to my feet and move to stand in front of him. He spreads his legs apart, grabs my waist, and tugs me between them. My lips part to let out a heavy sigh.

One hand slips down my side, slowly running over my hip. I don’t breathe as our eyes lock with passionate intensity. His fingers graze my thigh as they grasp the hem of my skirt, slowly pushing it up, exposing my hip. I gasp as he dips his head to press a kiss there.

“I want this,” he says, his warm breath heating my skin.

“Yeah,” I hum with a moan.

He pulls his head back to look up at me while he traces his finger around a spot on my hip. “This purple rose you have on your hip…I want you to put one on me, too.”

I’m breathless and lost to lust, my body swaying toward his. “Oh, I can put it on you.”

“Sweetheart,” he croons, the crow’s feet wrinkling around the corners of his smoky eyes as he smiles brighter, “I want you to put the tattoo on me.”

“Oh.” I shake my head to snap out of my trance. “Right. The purple rose.”

He lets go of the hem of my dress, letting it slip down, but his hand sneaks between my legs. I feel two fingers press and drag over my panties, straight across the wet spot he gave me with all his dirty texting earlier.

I put my hands on his shoulders and hang on for dear life, because my body sways and my knees dip at his touch.

“Though perhaps I should do something for you first,” he says, holding my gaze with passion. “You seem to be a little…flustered. You’re trembling.”

“That’s your fault.”

“I know,” he says with pride. “Should I resolve that for you?”

I nod. “Yeah, I think you should.”

“Slip off your panties.”

Oh, my God.

“Seriously?”

His expression morphs into something insistent. “Seriously.”

My chest rises and falls as I reach beneath my dress, grab hold of my underwear, and quickly slip it down my legs. My clit already throbs with an ache to be touched, and my stomach clenches as he helps me tug the fabric off my high-heeled, knee-high black boots. He takes them away from me, folds them up, and shoves them into his pants pocket.

“Those are mine now,” he says.

“Fuck,” I breathe, “that’s so hot.”

He chuckles, watching my face carefully as his hand returns beneath the skirt, his fingers quickly finding my wet, aching center. He rubs two fingers along my slit and my knees buckle, causing me to drift toward him. I wrap my arms around his neck and hang on. His free hand reaches around and grips me behind the knee. He pulls my leg up, and I place my knee on the chair beside his hip.

“Come fast for me.” He dips his fingers inside me, pushing in deep, gathering my wetness and dragging it out and over my clit. “Give me a sweet little orgasm to satisfy your nerves, and later, I’ll destroy your cunt to satisfy your soul.”

“Shit.” My hips rock forward into his touch, his fingers pumping in and out for a minute before he draws them back and rubs my clit in hot, little circles.

“Fuck. You’re already right there on the edge, aren’t you, you filthy girl?”

“Yes.” I absolutely fucking am because he’s been edging me with dirty texts all day. I’m ready to fucking explode.

He circles faster, pressing in, driving me up a steep mountain of pleasure with his impressive skill. I guess that’s one benefit of fucking a man who’s nearly ten years older. He’s not messing around here. He knows exactly what he’s doing and how to get me there.

I’m fucking his hand as I get closer, my arms clenched around him, holding him against my body. His lips brush across my chest, over bare skin exposed by the V of my dress. He kisses and licks at my flesh, overwhelming me with touch that I’ve been longing for.

God, he’s here.

He’s really here.

The excitement of that sends a rush of pleasure straight through my clenching belly, and with the next twist of his perfect fingers, I come undone.

“Murphy!” I call out as my hips rock frantically, as my fingers curl around the back of his neck and dig into his hair.

My body trembles as I come. I let out the most satisfied sigh, rocking through my release, until I gradually come back down from the high.

I loosen my grip on him just enough so I can look down at him. He’s grinning up at me like he’s just won the award for giving the best orgasm of the year. I’d say he has; except I know how incredible it feels to come on his tongue.

Fighting to catch my breath, I pant, “I’m definitely gonna sit on your face later.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” His hand raises between us, and he brings his fingers, glistening with the evidence of my climax, to his lips. He sucks them into his mouth, licking them clean.

My lips part and I gasp, his eyes locked on mine as he tastes me. When he drags his fingers out, I grab his cheeks and kiss him hard, my tongue diving inside his mouth and swirling to pick up the flavor of the orgasm he just gave me.

It tastes like sin in heaven.

When the kiss breaks, I press my forehead to his and work to catch my breath while I watch his flickering gray-green eyes.

“Now,” he says, “how about that tattoo?”