Love and Let Die (Masters and Mercenaries #5)(93)

One smooth move and she was plugged, only the flat base in sight.

Other women might offer him a home-cooked meal or ask to hold his hand as a romantic gesture, but his wife understood him.

She plugged herself like a pro, and it was the most f*cking romantic thing he’d ever seen.

He moved forward, placing a hand on that gloriously round ass, loving the little mewling sigh that came from her throat the minute he touched her. “How long do you usually keep it in?”

“I like to sleep with it.”

She didn’t say anything more, but he heard everything she didn’t say. She slept with it because it was like sleeping with him buried deep inside her. Because in those moments, she could close her eyes and pretend he was still with her.

God, he wanted to believe her. He wanted it more than anything in his life.

He lightly touched the base of the plug. Her muscles contracted around it, a pleasure reflex. “Do you like it?”

“I didn’t at first. It was weird. I did it because you wanted me to. I thought it would be something I would endure because it would bring you pleasure.”

“And now?”

“I dream about it, Master. I dream about you f*cking my * and taking what’s yours.”

She was going to make him come with nothing but sweet words.

There was no question about it. He could f*ck her and she would love it. He would love it.

All he had to do was take out that plug and shove his cock in. He could get off fast and then maybe he would be able to think. He could take what he needed and retreat again.

“Turn over.” He couldn’t handle using her the way he had before. He might not know what to do with her outside of the bedroom, but he was going to be her true Master in it. A Master took care of his sub first.

She carefully lowered herself to the couch and rolled over. Her eyes stared up at him warily. Did she think he would dismiss her now? Maybe laugh at her for years of service?

“Thank you, love.” He picked up her right foot, bringing it to his lips and kissing her toes. They were ticklish. He could torture her for hours by playing with her feet. What he’d never told her was he hadn’t done it because he wanted to punish her. He just loved to hear her laugh.

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

He bit gently at her toes and she practically jumped. “I think it’s entirely weird, and you’re the most perverted woman I’ve ever met. Lucky for you I have a thing for perverts.”

“Ian, don’t.” She tried to wiggle her foot away.

He tightened his grip. “You don’t tell me what to do when we’re in the bedroom.”

She whimpered a little. “You know I hate that, Master.”

“But I love it.” Most subs hated the whip or being caned, but not his Charlie. She hated having her feet tickled. Unfortunately for her, he loved to do it.

He ran his tongue over the soul of her foot.

Charlie let out a strangled scream, squirming on the couch, and then he heard it, that low, gorgeous sound. It rang through the whole room and made his soul feel lighter. Yes, he was going to take her. He was going to fill her with his come until she couldn’t see straight, but god, he loved her laugh.

“Oh, my love, is it hard to keep that plug in while you’re laughing?” The worries he had were floating away. This was what he needed. Whatever happened hours from now could happen, but in this moment he was safe and happy and making his sub laugh.

Her face was pink, her smile wide as she glared up at him, a ridiculously stubborn look in her eyes. “I can keep this plug in all day long. Do your worst, Master.”

He picked up her other foot, adoring how he circled her ankle with his hand. She wasn’t petite, his wife, but he could top her easily. He put all five of her toes into his mouth, scraping his teeth along her sole.

“Oh, god!” She was lost to a fit of giggles. Her whole body shook, her breasts bouncing beautifully, her hips swaying. “You’re a sadist.”

He put her feet against both his cheeks, admiring her perfect *. “I’m not a sadist.”

Her mouth came open as he ran his nose from her heel to her toes. “Evil. You certainly are. You love to make me scream. You love to whip my ass and torture me.”

And she loved the way he did it. But she didn’t exactly understand him—or herself. “It’s not sadism if the partner loves the pain, pet. Sadists want to hurt their partners. You love what I do to you.”

Her hands came up, a brilliant smile crossing her face as she laughed. “Yes, I do. I do, but if you’re not a sadist, what do you call yourself?”

He knew exactly who he was when he was with her. It got cloudy, uncertain, when she was gone, but, oh, when she was close, he knew who he was. “I’m the man who gives you what you need.”

He dropped her feet, making sure they were spread wide. He wasn’t going to turn her over. No. He wanted to look into her eyes, to see her as he loved her, to take her fully and without restraint. He wasn’t going to pull that bullshit “pushing her away” crap afterward. He was going to sink into her and take what he needed and give her something back. He couldn’t promise her anything past this moment, but he would be here with her in the now.

He got onto the couch with her, shifting her so he could move with her body. She gasped a little as he shoved her to the opposite side of the couch, the crown of her head hitting the arm. “Sorry, love.”