Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(106)

“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 * 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.