Love and Let Die mam-5

by Lexi Blake

  “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 cam
e 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.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The perpetual buzzing in his ear was starting to get to him.

  “All right, that’s Kamdar’s boat pulling up on the beach,” Damon said through the communications device they were using.

  “Thanks, I couldn’t tell that was a boat,” Ian shot back.

  Damon seemed to think he needed a running commentary. The MI6 boys, Ten, and Simon had taken a perch high above the beach
at the Cabo de Rama Fort. The fort was nothing but an interesting set of ruins surrounded by fruit trees and monkeys. It did, however, give them a good view of the beach and the exchange about to take place.

  Jesse had been relegated to babysitting the brat and making sure she didn’t find a handy Internet connection. Chelsea seemed to have gone quiet, turning in on herself. He’d expected her to argue with him, but she’d simply nodded and gone back to watching the palm trees outside the hut. Hopefully she wouldn’t give Jesse too much trouble. Of course, he was also supposed to be watching Charlie, but Ian had other plans for his gorgeous wife.

  He wasn’t leaving her behind with anyone. But the boys up at the fort didn’t need to know that until the time came.

  Sean huffed a little as he sat back, his feet in the sand and the rest of him on a low-slung lounger. He was dressed formally for the beach in khakis and a polo, a camera bag by his side. “Do they think we can’t read?”

  His brother’s voice dripped sarcasm. There was only one lightweight speedboat plowing up the sand, and it had an elaborately painted name on the side that read Little Kash.

  Ian assumed that the massive yacht in the distance was Big Kash. The king obviously didn’t have self-esteem problems.

  “Stop with the whining and listen up.” Baz’s voice came through this time. “According to everything we’ve been able to dig up in a short period of time, you should be safe. Kamdar’s security has always been tight with the exception of the women he sleeps with. However, they apparently don’t wear a lot of clothing so if you see a bird coming at you with an Uzi, you should duck.”

  Yes, he needed humor right now. He was already in a bad position because he was running out of time. This was a calculated play on his part. Kamdar’s men were said to be terrifically loyal, and according to MI6 they had all been with the king for a long period of time.

  This was his shot. The boat was larger, but contained. As long as the king’s guard was loyal, Charlie would likely be safer on that boat than she was out in the open.