Love and Let Die

Chapter Sixteen

The sound of the beach eased Charlie out of a deep sleep. The rolling waves had soothed her all night, forming a rhythm she’d eased into. After the long flight and then the drive from the airport, she had fallen into bed after barely getting a glimpse of the beach huts they had taken out.

Soft light filled the room, and she could see the ceiling above her and a large, slowly rotating ceiling fan. The salty smell of the ocean wafted over her and then she smelled coffee, dark and rich.

She rolled over and sighed as she realized the other half of the bed was still neat as a pin.

Ian hadn’t come to bed. Though he’d been kind and had taken care of her during the long trip, he had pulled back into himself after a few hours. He was right back where they’d been before. Undecided. She reached out and touched the place where his head should have laid.

Patience.

She just needed patience. She was here with him and not stuck in a safe house with Liam frowning at her, and that was a plus.

It had been her mantra on the long flight to Mumbai and then the shorter hop to the Goa airport in Vasco da Gama. Two cars had been waiting for them and she’d sat beside Ian as he drove the winding coastal road. She’d tried to pretend everything was all right as she’d taken in the natural beauty of the sea on one side and the rice terraces and coconut groves on the other. She spent so much of her time in cities that it was easy to forget how beautiful the world could be.

But there was a hollowness to it all because he was so far from her.

“Charlie?”

She turned and he was sitting in a rattan chair, his eyes thoughtful. She wondered if he’d been watching her sleep. “Hi. Is everyone already up?”

He nodded. “Yes, they’ve got some crazy-ass plan to go and meet this king. Ten and Damon really believe in subterfuge. They’re coming up with all these plots to get us on his boat. Apparently today is the day he brings his yacht in and restocks his liquor cabinets or something.”

She yawned behind her hand and wondered if she would be stuck here while Ian worked. She would worry about him every single minute. “Yes. He’s quite the party boy. According to the tabloids, he seems to love fast boats and gorgeous women.”

“According to your research, he also likes science.”

Charlie got out of bed, not bothering with the robe that was laid out at the end of the mattress. She’d put on one of Ian’s T-shirts and it hung down to her knees. She looked out the window of the small, but likely wretchedly expensive “hut” they had checked into. Agonda Beach looked out on the Arabian Sea, the waves gentle, the water seeming never to end. White sand stretched out in either direction. There was peace here. Quiet. Tranquility. She wished they were here to be alone. “Yes, he’s spent a lot of money on research. He funds all kinds of studies.”

“I’ve been thinking. Why would Nelson be interested in the king of Loa Mali? All reports have Kamdar as a humanitarian, a great ruler. The US has pushed him for elections, but there’s no doubt his people love him. From what I can tell, he’s not corrupt. He shares the wealth. Yes, they have oil, but Nelson’s already getting oil from Russia. Unless, he’s not really interested in the money from the oil.”

She turned back to Ian. “How could he not be interested in the money?”

“Because it’s petty cash. He has to share it with the syndicate. You have to know how your relatives pay.” Ian stood up and stretched. “It doesn’t make sense. I’ve been trying to study the man, but he’s shown me what he wants me to see. I need to study his actions. The truth is there. Why did he try to steal the drone plans for the Chinese and then turn around and get into arms shipments? Now he’s interested in oil. There’s too much jumping around.”

“I didn’t look at it that way.” Now that she really thought about it, it didn’t make sense. It was nearly impossible to shift so much in so few years. His contacts would have to be far and wide, running across many countries, many sectors. Agents in the CIA tended to have a territory. They tended to work in one part of the world. Ian and Nelson had both worked in Europe. So why was he working for the Chinese and now in India? Unless he wasn’t dealing in money. Not really. It would come back to money, but that wasn’t the first goal.

His eyes were dark as he stared at her. “How did you contact him the first time?”

So he was finally going to get into it. A little shiver went through her. This was the conversation they should have had five years ago. “I didn’t. He contacted me.”

“So you weren’t looking for an assassin?”

She felt pinned by him, unable to do much more than answer his questions. “I was, but I was doing it quietly. I had reached out to another syndicate, one in the US. They had problems with my father. They were both fighting over some territory. My father wanted to expand out of Russia.”

“What kind of territory?” His tone was flat, the same as he probably used on everyone he interviewed.

“Drugs. They were just trying to get into the pharmaceutical business, and the States was the best place to do it.”

Ian nodded. “They were bilking Medicare and Medicaid?”

It was a common practice for the syndicate. They took money from government programs. “Yes. They would buy doctors who would write prescriptions for patients. OxyContin mostly. He didn’t care if the patients took the drugs or went and sold them. The patients worked for the syndicate.”

Ian held up a hand. “I understand how it works. So let me get this straight, you reach out to a rival syndicate, but Nelson replies. You reach out to a syndicate that is making money off pharmaceuticals. Nelson was supposed to be working in Europe at the time, but he wasn’t in Russia according to what I could find out. He sees a way to get the ten million in bearer bonds that I’m going to use in my operation, but he has to get rid of me to do it. So he sends you in. An exchange of services, so to speak.”

God, he could make her feel like a prostitute, but then again, she’d put herself here. “Yes.”

“And he used your father as a scapegoat. He convinced the Agency that your father was the likely suspect for claiming to have the uranium we were attempting to buy. Once he was dead and there was no further evidence, the case was closed. He couldn’t use the bonds for years so everything quieted down. The Agency was too busy dealing with me. I suppose I should be happy they bothered with me at all. They could have burned me and let me rot in a London jail.”

He wouldn’t have lasted long. When she looked at the evidence from Ian’s perspective, there was no way to find her innocent. “I didn’t understand what was going on at the time. I only knew I had to get out or my father was going to eventually kill my sister. Nelson offered me a way to run. He offered me money and a chance to be free of my father.”

“What else did he offer you? Did he offer you comfort?”

She shivered at the thought. “No. He offered me a job.”

“Now that I find interesting. What did it involve?”

She had to shrug. “He just gave me money and told me to get to the States and he would contact me.”

“What do you know about his finances?”

She hated the cold, flat tone he was using on her. “Chelsea knows more than I do.”

“I don’t want to talk to Chelsea. I want to talk to you.”

He wanted to torture her, but she owed him answers. “Fine. I know he’s got accounts all over the place, but I was surprised to find out he doesn’t have a ton of liquid. In the last year, I’ve connected him to several mafia jobs and a couple of terrorist groups.”

“Why would he be working with terrorists…Charlie, baby, what did the terrorism involve?”

Fuck, how could she have not seen it? “Oil fields. They were destroying equipment in oil fields. The groups do it to protest American involvement in the Middle East.”

Ian stood up, stretching. “Yeah, well, I don’t think Nelson gives a crap about the Middle East. But he does seem to care deeply about oil.”

A few pieces to the puzzle fell into place. “He’s working for an oil company.”

“That would be my guess at this point. If we take everything we know, we can probably figure out what company it is. He’s freelancing, but it isn’t for other governments. He’s freelancing for corporations. A terrorist for hire, so to speak. It makes a man wonder. I heard a rumor a couple of months back about some ex-Special Forces aiding in the civil wars in certain African countries that have a high level of diamond mines. They were getting paid by diamond merchants to keep the war going because the minute the war ends, the market will be glutted with diamonds and the price will go down. What if Nelson is trying to manipulate the price of crude?”

She thought about everything she knew about the king of Loa Mali. “The rumor is Kamdar is working on an energy project.”

He walked up to her, his expression softening a little. He reached down, touching the pad of his index finger to her nose. “Smart girl. Keep quiet. The other rumor was that the man brokering the deal with the mercenaries was an intelligence operative.”

She didn’t like the suspicion in his voice. “You don’t think it’s Ten, do you?"

He was suddenly invading her space, pressing his body to hers. It seemed the interrogation was over. “Don’t let Ten’s idiot bongo beach boy attitude fool you. He’s deadly, Charlie. He’s been with the Agency since he was a kid. They recruited him straight out of college. He’s smart, fast, and he has no ties to anyone. He grew up in foster care. Do you know why he’s named Tennessee?”

She could only guess. “His mom loved Tennessee Williams?”

“His loving mother dumped him in a trash bin with his umbilical cord still attached. They named him Tennessee because the diner he was left in was close to the state line. Another couple of miles and he would have been named Kentucky. He was raised in foster care and kind of fell through the cracks. By the time he was nine, he’d been in seven different homes, and when he was thirteen he was running away, getting in trouble. But he scored a perfect score on his SATs and showed an aptitude for moral flexibility the Agency likes. His last foster parent worked for intelligence. He knew what to do with Ten. Think of Ten as a very charming version of Dexter.”

Somehow she couldn’t see it. He was so laid back, so flirty, but she believed Ian. “All right. So you think he might be working with Nelson?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to believe it about him or the MI6 agents, but we’re going to keep our mouths shut and our eyes open.” His hands found her hair, tangling in it. “He wants you.”

She rolled her eyes. “He seems to want anything with the proper female parts.”

“Not like that, baby. He wants to hire you. He wants to take you back to DC with him and install The Broker at Langley. It would be a coup for him.”

That was an easy decision. “I’ll pass.”

A long sigh came from his chest as he let her go. “All right, then. I thought I should tell you. You need to get dressed. We have to go and listen to whatever plan they’ve come up with.”

“Ian.” She couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand the way he kept turning away from her. “Do I even have a shot at this? I know I should be patient and I will be. I’ll give you all the time in the world if you’ll just tell me I have a shot at making this right.”

“You can’t make it right.”

Her skin flushed with emotion. “Never? You can never forgive me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I can forgive, but I don’t know that I can forget.” He looked back at her, his eyes weary. “And I don’t know if it matters. I want you every minute of the day and I don’t think that’s ever going to stop, but what are we going to do, Charlie? Are we going to give up the game and buy a little house like Alex and Eve? I don’t think we get to do that. So the question becomes what do we do about it? I’m tired of fighting it. I don’t care if you slept with Nelson. I don’t care if you did everything that fucker said you did.”

She shook her head, tears forming. “No. I didn’t, Ian.”

He held a hand out, silencing her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” She couldn’t lose him to a pack of lies.

“Do you love me, Charlie?”

An easy question to answer. “Yes. God, yes.”

“Then promise me something.” He came over and stood above her, his eyes looking down into hers.

“Anything."

He took her hand and placed it in the middle of his chest where she could feel the heat of his body through the cotton T-shirt he wore. “If you betray me this time, shoot me. Straight through the heart. Make sure I’m dead because I don’t want to live in a world where you betray me twice. Promise me.”

She shook her head. She needed him to understand. “Ian, I’m not going to betray you.”

“Promise me.” His mouth hung over hers. So close. He was so close.

She shook her head. “I don’t have to.”

His hand tightened on hers. “Promise.”

“I promise.” Her heart ached as she said it. How could she make him believe?

His mouth took hers, lips forcing hers open under his dominance. Arms wrapped around her, drawing her up to his chest.

She clung to him, her tongue meeting his and gliding in a silky dance. Five years she’d waited for that kiss. Five long years of aching and praying and hoping to make it back to him. His mouth covered hers, blanketing her in heat and desire and something so much sweeter. Adoration, worship was in his kiss. Love was in that kiss and though she didn’t have everything she wanted, she could hope because his lips were on hers. She let him lead her, turning her head one way and then the other as he explored her again, reminding her of the long nights he would spend kissing her. He could kiss for hours, his hands skimming her skin and driving her crazy. She would beg him to move on, but he would be content with his tongue tasting hers.

He drugged her with kisses, making all her fears go away and replacing them with the certainty that this was the right man and it was finally the right time.

When he came up for air, he laid his forehead against hers. “I can’t fight you anymore, Charlie. I want you too badly. I don’t care what you’ve done in the past, but you’re mine now and you’re going to behave. Do you understand what I mean?”

He was keeping her? “Ian, I want to be good. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I want to be your wife. I want you to be proud of me.”

“Do you understand what I’ll do if I catch you on a computer doing anything but playing solitaire or spending too much money on clothes?”

A little hope lit through her. Oh, she wanted a life where he bitched at her for how much she spent on clothes and shoes and then made her make up for it in his arms. “I suspect my ass will be red.”

“You have to trust me, Charlie.” His words were a passionate plea. “I want that above everything else. If you can’t trust me then you should think about Ten’s offer. The Agency could protect you.”

She didn’t want that. “You’ll protect me."

He picked her up, hugging her tight. “I will. When we’re done here, we’ll leave and figure out what to do.”

She stilled in his arms. “Ian, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ll go with you.”

Now she started to push him away. “You can’t. You can’t leave your family.”

“You’re my family now. I tried to fight it, but I can’t."

It was everything she wanted and so bittersweet it nearly broke her heart. “I never meant to do this to you. I thought I could hide with you. I thought that maybe my uncle had moved on to bigger things. It was stupid, but I honestly thought I could make this work. It had been over a year since my uncle had sent someone after me.”

“Yet he found you so quickly after you came to me. Nelson had me watched. He’ll always have me watched if I’m out in the open. I think the people he’s working with will do the same as long as they need your uncle’s cooperation. They’ll watch us.”

Maybe she should consider working with the Agency. How could she ask Ian to give everyone up?

He reached down, drawing her chin up so she had to look at him. “I wouldn’t like what’s going through your head, would I?”

Very likely not since she was thinking of running. “You can’t leave your home.”

His arms tightened around her. “My home is with you now. Trust me. Choose me this time.”

She searched his face.

Choose him. Choose to rise or fall with him. Choose to run with him, to make a home with him wherever they could. Choose to face everything that was coming with him by her side.

She’d promised him. She’d taken vows. He knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t the type of man who would walk into this situation without thinking everything through. It was what he’d been doing on the plane, while he was driving, while he sat up all night watching over her. He’d been making his decision.

He was offering himself to her. If she tried to play the martyr, she would be rejecting him.

“I love you. I know I should walk away.”

His head shook. “Then put a bullet in me when you go. Charlie, my decision is made. Honor it. Choose me even over your need to sacrifice yourself. God, you’ve been fucking doing that all your life. You could have gotten out, but you stayed in because of your sister. You sacrificed for her. You were ready to die so the rest of my team could live. Don’t you see that this is your pattern? Break it for me. Choose me. Choose to fight to be with me. Even if it means we go down. Because if we go down, we’re going down together. Make me the one thing you don’t ever sacrifice.”

He wanted to be the one thing she was selfish about. It might not be right, but she could give him that. And she knew what was at the heart of it all. Trust. If she stayed, she was trusting him to know his heart, to protect them, to put her first, to never leave her. God, he was practically begging her to not leave him.

“Never, Master.” She laid her head over his heart. Though his face might be blank, his heart was thundering in his chest. “I’ll never sacrifice us. I love you, Ian.”

“I love you, too, Charlie.” His head rested against hers. “I love you, wife. No matter what happens, I love you.” He kissed her again, his tongue plunging deep. “God, I love the way you taste.”

“And I love the way you kiss me. I love the way I feel when I’m with you. I love the me I am when I’m with you.”

His lips played on hers. “I think I would be like Ten if you hadn’t saved me.”

“I didn’t save you.” It was the opposite.

“Yes, you did. I might never admit it again, wife, so drink it in now, but I think I would have sunk into my job. I would have become nothing more than a weapon for them to use. I knew I couldn’t be that after I married you. You were the reason I got out, the reason I have any family at all.”

His hands pulled at the shirt, leaving her naked in an instant. The windows were slightly open, letting in the early morning breeze. It played on her skin, puckering her nipples.

Long, trailing kisses made their way down her throat, stopping at her shoulders, his tongue tasting her skin. She stayed still for him, knowing what he wanted. He wanted to relearn her, this time with kindness and love. He dropped to his knees in front of her, drawing her back to his mouth.

She let her head fall back, giving over to him as he tongued her nipples, one after another. His hands clasped the cheeks of her ass, molding and massaging them.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He bit gently down on one nipple.

“I’m yours.” She’d been his from the moment she’d met him, maybe longer. Maybe she’d been his since the moment she’d been born. Maybe he was the gift the universe had given her for everything she’d suffered. Maybe he was a happy coincidence. It didn’t matter because she’d found him and her soul had settled into place. Finally. Completely.

“Always, Charlie. You’re always mine. And I’m always your Master. Your husband.” He latched onto the nipple and sucked hard, the sensation going straight to her pussy. “Get wet for me. Get ready for me.”

She already was. She didn’t need him to do anything but walk into a room for her to be ready for him. Her body was tuned to his. “Yes, Master.”

He bit her other nipple, making her eyes widen and her heart skip a beat. “I’m going to clamp you, baby. I want to see your tits in clamps, and when we can, I’m going to have them pierced so I can run a chain through them and lead you around by the nipples. I’m going to look at those hoops and know that your breasts are mine and always will be.”

The very thought caused a fresh rush of arousal to flood her system. He moved away from her, grabbing the duffel bag he’d packed. Opening it, he placed a few items on the dresser, a couple of guns, some lube and condoms. He held up a pair of clamps. She should have known he would fill his luggage with guns and ammo and sex toys. Her Master liked to be prepared.

“Do you know how pretty you’ll look in these?” A sweetly sadistic light was in his eyes.

There was a knock on the door and a masculine voice broke through their solitude. “Yo, Tag, we need you out here for the op brief. How are you going to know what to do if we don’t tell you? Get your lazy ass out here. And your brother made breakfast. He’s a hell of a guy.”

Damn, damn, damn. Frustration threatened to stop her heart. She hated Tennessee Smith in that moment. She didn’t want the world to intrude.

Ian didn’t make a sound, but suddenly the nipple clamps weren’t the only things in his hand. He opened the door slightly, not so much that she could see out or anyone could see in, and pointed his big SIG Sauer at anyone who was standing on the other side of that door.

There was a pause and then a low chuckle. “Well, then, I can see you’re busy. I’ll just let everyone know that you’ll come on out here and join us when you’re ready.”

Ian slammed the door. “I am going to take the head off the next fucker who tries to stop me from fucking my wife. It’s goddamn rude. Now hold those breasts in place for me. I want to play, Charlie. I want to play with my sub. What are you right now?”

Oh, if he wanted to play she could play so dirty. “I’m my Master’s toy. I’m Master’s little fuck toy.”

Sure enough his cock was nearly straining out of his pants. He kissed her again, a carnal joining of mouths and tongues. “You’re my toy and my joy, Charlie. Always.”

God, she’d forgotten how sweet he could be. He could take the most perverted acts and make them loving. He could say the filthiest things, get her so hot she couldn’t stand it, and then remind her that she was loved. “Always, Ian.”

She held her breasts up for him, her nipples hard and ready for what he was about to do.

“I think my toy needs some jewelry.” He held two clover clamps in his hand. Little devices that would torture her tits and make her come so much harder. They were silver, joined together by a silver chain. After adjusting them, he pinched at her right nipple before slipping the clamp on. It bit into her, sensitizing her and making her shiver at the feeling. Before she could take another breath, he’d attached the second and stepped back to look at her. “Fuck, that’s pretty. Your nipples get ruby red, like fucking raspberries I want to gorge myself on. Show me your pussy. Get on that bed and spread your legs and let me look at it. It belongs to me, too.”

Her Master was in a possessive mood. The men waiting for them might want to get comfortable because she had the feeling he was going to take his sweet time.

Nothing mattered while they were together. Nothing except the two of them. When he looked at her with that supernova heat in his eyes, she could easily let the rest of the world slip away. She could believe that they could be together forever.

And it could be the most romantic thing in the world for her Master to want to look at her pussy.

She fell back on the low bed, the sounds of the surf and ocean winds behind her while her Master’s eyes took in every inch of her. Every inch she moved jostled the clamps, allowing her to feel the bite. She let her legs fall open, knowing what her Master would want.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Wider,” he commanded.

Such a gorgeous pervert. She spread her legs wide, pulling her knees up and giving him a view of everything she had.

“Touch yourself.” He pulled his shirt over his head, letting her see that cut chest and the muscular arms that nearly made her drool.

She let her finger run over her labia, skimming the sensitive flesh and spreading the arousal she found there. It was humming through her, desire for him, desire for the life they could have.

Desire for a future she’d been dreaming of from the moment she’d met him.

Ian shoved his jeans off his hips and tossed them aside. His weariness had fled, drowned out by obvious desire. His cock sprang up, his heavy balls already drawn up. “Fuck yourself with your finger. Only one. You’re not allowed to come. I just want you ready.”

She groaned. He was going to torture her, but she gave him what he wanted. With a little sigh, she stroked her finger deep inside her channel, slowly, so he couldn’t miss an inch of the penetration. She let her finger fuck all the way to the base of her hand before pulling it back out.

“Let me taste.” He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his mouth. Instead of sucking it inside, his tongue came out, starting at the tip and licking every centimeter, rolling around and enjoying her flavor. Finally he sucked it inside, the pressure causing her spine to tingle.

His hand came out, touching the chain that ran between her breasts. All it took was the slightest tug to send pleasurable fire running in her veins. The tug bit into her tender nipples and sensitized her skin.

“Ian, you’re killing me.” Need rode her. She couldn’t stand being apart from him. She needed to feel him inside her, filling her completely.

He tugged again, harder this time and she couldn’t help the cry that came from her throat. “Baby, do you know what that throaty little shout does for me?”

And he said he wasn’t a sadist? Still, every inch of discomfort he gave her heightened her pleasure. If he was a sadist then her masochism perfectly matched him. Just enough. Just enough to take her to another level, to show her another world.

“I’ll scream for you, Master.” She wasn’t worried. His little tortures never truly made her cry. He played with her and she played back, dirty little games that fed their desire for each other. “I’ll take your clamps and your rings and your hand and your crop. I’ll take anything you think to give me.”

Her vision was suddenly taken up with the sight of his cock in hand. “And what if I want to give you this?”

“Oh, I can take that, Master. I can take every inch of it.” She’d taken it in her pussy and her mouth and her ass. She was his match in every way.

“I know you can. You can take everything I give you. You can handle it all.” He touched her throat, a single finger tracing a line around it. “I want you to wear my collar again.”

“I wish I’d never lost it.” She thought about that gold chain every day, had thought about replacing it, buying another and wearing it so she felt close to him. But it had to be his hand that placed it around her throat or it was meaningless.

“I’ll buy another one and I’ll spank the hell out of you if you lose it again.” The last was said with a little smile.

Her Master would find any excuse to spank her. She knew he loved to see her ass a pretty pink and he delighted in making her squirm. Oh, she couldn’t wait to have his collar around her throat again. But there was one other piece of jewelry she’d lost. “I want my wedding ring back, Master.”

“You’ll have it, but don’t expect another grand wedding.”

“I didn’t get the first one,” she grumbled. “I got married at a courthouse.”

It had taken roughly half an hour. They’d gotten caught in the rain and her pretty wrap dress had been drenched, her hair plastered to her head. He’d kissed her so sweetly she hadn’t cared.

“It was a British courthouse.” He crowded her back as he climbed on the bed. “Do you know what hoops I had to jump through?”

“Probably not very many. You had friends in high places.”

He shrugged a little, his body covering hers, his legs forcing hers open to make a place for himself. “I did. Someone had to jump through hoops. It’s not easy for two noncitizens to get married there, but I managed it. Still, I don’t want to go through all that white wedding crap Alex and Eve went through. A simple collaring ceremony followed by some righteously nasty sex should do the trick.”

All he wasn’t saying was there in his eyes. They might have a collaring ceremony, but it wouldn’t be at Sanctum. Even if they took out Eli Nelson, they wouldn’t be able to go home. They would be on the run.

“Hey.” He tugged on her chain. “Come back to me. Don’t go there.”

“It’s hard not to.” Guilt still bubbled up.

“I’ll take care of it. I have no intention of being on the run forever, Charlie. I’m not going to allow anyone to keep us from our home, so stop worrying. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you. Now shh. I can’t leave the clamps on for too long.” He suddenly frowned. “Unless you’ve been clamping your own tits for the last five years.”

Laughter lightened her. “No, Master. Just the plug. I’ve stayed away from all other toys.”

“Well, then, this is going to hurt, baby.” He released the clamp on her left nipple. Pain flared but before she could scream, the wounded flesh was in his mouth, his tongue soothing the ache as blood flooded her nipple again. She was tender, raw, and she suspected that was exactly how he wanted her.

The pain flared again when he moved to her left breast, giving her the same treatment as before. He was her Master, giver of pain and pleasure and love and security and joy. He was the man who soothed her aches and understood her needs. He was the man who taught her to laugh though he was often so grave himself.

Her soul’s mate.

“Look at how pretty they are," he ordered.

She looked down and her nipples were a ruby red, deeper and more colorful than the normal rosy brown. Ian played with them, running his face along the soft skin of her breasts, his five-o’clock shadow bristling and making her skin the faintest pink.

Her hands found his sandy hair, holding him to her breast, letting her legs wind around him. “Please, Master. I need you.”

Playtime was fun, but this wasn’t play. This was reconnection. This felt sacred.

His head came up and he stared down, their eyes connecting, holding. “Charlie, you talked about your fate. I think you’re mine. There’s no fighting fate, baby.”

He lined his cock up.

God, he wasn’t wearing a condom. She gasped a little.

“Fate, Charlie.” He pressed in hard. No playing this time, just one long push of his body into hers. Her Master was taking what was his, giving her the promise she’d always longed for.

Nothing between them. The past behind them. And the promise of a future in his arms.

With an eager cry, she wrapped herself around him, holding him close as he completed the union.

“I love you, wife.” The words were a benediction. He might say he couldn’t forgive her, but she felt it in those words.

“I love you.” He was her everything.

He stroked into her, resting his body on hers, pressing her into the mattress. His cock never stopped moving even as he kissed her breathless, fusing their mouths together. His hands tangled in her hair, holding her for his passionate exploration.

She was pinned by him, surrounded by him, deliciously crushed by his weight, and this was where she’d longed to be. For the first time in years, she felt free.

“Take me, baby. Take everything I have.” He kissed her over and over as though he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t stand for any part of him to not be touching a part of her.

He twisted his hips, hitting her clit with every stroke, building the tension until she was a live wire waiting to go off. One more deep stroke and the orgasm crashed through her.

He halted her cry, drinking it down. “That’s what I want from you.”

Then he gave her what she wanted. He pressed deep, holding himself inside her as he gave up his come, his gorgeous face tightening as he came.

His body relaxed, lowering to her, his muscles losing their tension and sweet peace showing on his face. She’d given him that, and he’d given her a future.

“I would have done it, too, Charlie.” His cock was still inside her, and he made no move to roll off. He kissed her again, but this was a lazy, satiated seduction. “I would have chosen Sean.”

She squeezed him so tight. “You forgive me?”

“For choosing Chelsea? No. There’s nothing to forgive there. For not trusting me? Yes. There wasn’t enough time. But there is now. We have to choose each other. We have to pick each other. I trust you, Charlie. I’m sorry for even thinking about what that fucker said about you. You’re my wife. I believe you.”

That meant something to Ian Taggart. “I’ll put you above everyone, Ian. I’m yours now. Yours and no one else’s. I love my sister and I hope I can help her, but at the end of this life, I want to be beside you.”

A little smile curled up his lips. He thrust his hips again, proving he was already recovering. “And I want to be inside you. Three times a day, baby.”

His mouth took hers and he proceeded to prove his point.