Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(56)

“I want you alive, Ben. What do you want? Should I let you live?”

After a long, long moment, as her own fears tried to overwhelm her, he nodded.

Pulse pounding in her ears, she sagged in relief. After tossing the ring to the ground, she wrapped her arms around him. “Losing someone hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Hurts,” he agreed.

“Over there, you fought for me, your family, your friends. To keep us safe.”

“Yeah.”

“Now you’re here. That means your buddies were fighting to keep you safe, too. Weren’t they?”

He blinked.

“Mouse would want you to live, Ben. Not to give up. You have to survive to make his sacrifice worth it.”

“He died. I should have been there.”

“We all die sometime, my tiger. That moment…that place…wasn’t yours. Your time will come. Until then, your job is to live as best you can.”

He stared at her.

“That’s your duty now, Ben.”

Should she have taken him deeper?

But he was soaking up what she said, processing it to some extent. His defenses were still down. The guardian of his mind was impaired, so her words were going deep.

She waited.

“He died.” His eyes filled.

The grief of a great-souled man who loved deeply was finally surfacing, and her heart broke for him. She pulled him forward, wrapped her arms around him, and laid his head on her shoulder as he shook.

“It hurts, I know,” she whispered. Losing someone hurt. There was no pain that comes close.

His arms came around her, pulling her against him so tightly she had trouble finding air.

“Shhh.” She held him just as firmly, heart against heart. She would hold him forever if that were what he needed.

But eventually, he moved. Breathed deeper. The energy changed. He was coming out of subspace. Out of despair.

She stroked his back and shoulders gently, easing him into the world. Reality could be difficult. But maybe she could both ease the transition and reinforce the joys of living.

As he lifted his head to look around, she took his right hand.

His golden-brown eyes met hers.

Gliding his hand down her side, she closed his thumb and fingers on the left ribbon of her thong…and pulled. When the bow opened, she brushed his hand over the bared skin. Then she took his left hand and set it on the other bow.

He undid the ribbon all on his own.

Beneath her, a cock that had never gone limp thickened. Lengthened. He’d never even noticed that she’d replaced the steel cage with a condom.

She lifted up slightly and tugged her thong away, then adjusted her position so the head of his cock pressed against her damp entrance.

When he tensed, she stayed…right there…and leaned forward to kiss him.




Anne’s soft lips moved over Ben’s mouth. But all his attention had focused on one place, on where her hot * bobbed against the very tip of his dick. Just the f*cking tip.

Engorged again, his erection burned and throbbed—and wanted sex like a motherf*cker. She was teasing him.

His hands, still at her hips, gripped her thighs, moved her just enough to establish position—and then he yanked her down on his cock, sheathing himself in her to the hilt.

Fuuuuck. His abused, sensitive dick felt engulfed in liquid fire. Even more blood surged into his shaft, making her impossibly, painfully tight. His head hit the back of the chair as he shuddered.

And she laughed. Sadistic Mistress.

He’d never had anything hurt so much and feel so good at the same time.

Her thigh muscles flexed as she lifted off of him, and the slippery slide of her * over his skin almost made his eyes roll back.

Up, down.

“I can’t…” last. He had to. Never leave a man—a woman—behind. Letting her set the rhythm, he moved his hands inward, using his thumbs to bracket her slick clit and rub the sides and top.

Her cunt clenched. Yeah, she liked that.

Hell, so did he. His teeth ground together as he fought against coming. Hold the line.

Her clit was protruding, her thighs quivering, her speed increasing.

And she came, arching back in a movement as beautiful as life itself.

He watched in wonder, in awe, and when her eyes opened, the light in them was like the clouds opening to the sun after a storm.

“Come now, Benjamin. You’ve waited long enough.” She braced, hands splayed on his chest as she lifted up and drove down, grinding into him with each pistoning movement.

Sensation flooded him, filled the dry lake to overflowing, burst the dam, and surged through. He came. Fuck, he came. Every gripping spasm held molten liquid so hot it vied with his burning cock. Heat everywhere. Pleasure so vast he saw stars exploding in the universe.

Covered in sweat, he looked up into her endlessly deep eyes and saw her dimples. And then her smile.

Yeah. He wanted to live.




He’d faded out on her again. Anne had managed to dress him—she wasn’t sure how. Unsure of his balance, she took him down to the first floor in the tiny elevator.

As they crossed the main room, the noise and activity set him to trembling. She stopped to grab a subbie blanket from one of the stands. After wrapping it around him, she leaned into him and let her body heat reassure him. “Benjamin, look at me.”