Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(35)

Smack. Charlie heard the sound crack through the air before she felt the sting against her skin. Fire lashed through her. She bit back a curse because Ian wasn’t warming her up. He’d gotten right to the hard stuff.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Pain flared. Tears welled. She didn’t even think about stopping them. It felt too good. She’d been strong for so long. This was a release, pure and simple. She let loose, crying out as he continued his discipline.

Over and over he rained down on her willing flesh. He wanted to say she didn’t have tear ducts? Yeah. She could show him. He hadn’t told her she needed to be quiet, so she cried out.

He didn’t say a word though she knew he would keep a perfect count. She would get every smack he’d promised her. She also knew that he would stop if she screamed out red. The word didn’t even play through her head. This was what she’d longed for. Ian had taught her she needed this, taught her to not be ashamed that she was different and required a little kink to find her peace. There had been no peace before him, and no peace after him, just a deep disconnect from the world she’d grown to love.

She lost count, didn’t care to know. He could go on forever and they could stay in this place. She would take the pain to feel the connection to him. While he was disciplining her, they were the only two people in the whole world. Everything else could fall away and she could be herself, the Charlie she’d discovered when she fell in love with him. The Charlie who would sacrifice herself for others, who reached out and made friends. The Charlie who was brave enough to deserve those friends.

The room went quiet. Only the sounds of her gasps and tears could be heard. Ian’s hand stilled against her flesh, and she wondered for a moment if he would deny her what he would give any other sub he’d just disciplined. That might hurt most of all. She could take anything he dished out as long as she got the aftercare that completed the cycle even if it was nothing more than a few words of praise, a moment or two when she felt like she’d pleased him.

Slowly, his hand soothed against her skin, rubbing in gentle circles where he’d been so rough before. “You did well, Charlotte. But then you always did. How do you feel?”

Released. Peaceful. Just the slightest bit empty because she wouldn’t be in his arms. “I’m green, Sir.”

“Get up then.”

She sniffled a little. Maybe it would be good to have the afternoon to think about what she was doing. She pushed herself off his lap and stood on shaky feet, turning toward where she’d left her clothes.

He frowned her way, reaching for her hand. “Where are you going? I didn’t tell you to leave.” He tugged her into his lap, his arms encircling her. “Have you forgotten the drill?”

She was on the verge of tears again because his cheek nestled against her forehead, the intimacy so sweet she could hardly stand it. He cuddled her close, sighing as her arms went around him.

“I do this for all the subs I discipline, Charlie.”

Of course he did. He was known as the tenderest of Doms. His reputation for cuddling was world renowned. She loved him, but he was a dumbass if he thought she was buying that. She’d made a study of him before she’d met him and kept up with him since she’d died. Ian Taggart was known as a bastard who preferred to contract his sexual experiences so the women he screwed would never think that he would stay with them. Yes, she was certain he snuggled with all of them and smelled their hair, breathing them in like they were the air he needed to live. “Yes, Sir. I won’t mistake it for anything but aftercare.”

“See that you don’t.” He rocked the chair back and forth, his hand smoothing her hair back as she held on.

No matter what happened, she wouldn’t let go.





Chapter Five

The overhead light shone down on the conference room table and the evidence Simon and Jesse had spent the afternoon collecting.

“Does the DPD know yet?” Ian ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he stared at the pictures Simon had taken. They showed a man, likely a businessman given the fact that he was wearing a suit, lying on the floor of his expensive hotel room. He had a startled expression on his face, but then he also had a bullet hole through his forehead so Ian could forgive the man for being startled. It was a neat, clean execution, the kind the mob specialized in. It looked like their hit man had found the perfect perch from which to shoot someone coming out of the building that housed McKay-Taggart, and he didn’t really care that it was already occupied.

“No. No one’s found the bloke yet.” Simon was relaxed in his chair like finding dead bodies was an everyday occurrence for him. He sipped his Earl Grey. It was four o’clock. Nothing interrupted afternoon tea for the Brit. Ian was pretty sure Simon would stop in the middle of a shootout for high freaking tea. “The shooter had put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Staff won’t find the body until he’s supposed to check out, I would think.”

And then they might start to put two and two together. Maybe. If they were smart. He needed to make things look good with Brighton or the cops would get involved and everything would go to hell.

Jesse took off the ball cap he was wearing. At least he’d had the good sense to wear a ball cap and a fairly shapeless sweat suit. The kid looked too casual for the office, but no one would remember his hair color or body type. If he slumped properly, it would take inches off his six-foot-three-inch frame. “The hotel is quiet, minimal security. Room 721 is definitely the place where the shooter was planted. We found the sniper hole. The windows don’t open so he used a glass cutter to make a one-inch round hole, just enough to get the barrel through, not enough to hit the ground below and cause a ruckus. He knew he might be there for a while.”