Lexi Blake - Love and Let Die

Halves of a whole. Soul mates. Somewhere along the way, Ian had become the angel on her shoulder. Oh, he was a cranky angel, but it was his voice she heard when she was tempted to follow in her father’s footsteps and burn the world down around her.

She’d only known violence and anger before Ian Taggart.

And she owed him more than her life. She settled in and prayed he could forgive her.

Ian gritted his teeth and promised himself he wouldn’t ever forgive his bitch goddess wife, but fuck, she knew how to suck his cock. He couldn’t remember how many blow jobs he’d received over the course of his lifetime, but he knew how many he’d had from his Charlie.

Charlotte. Her fucking name was Charlotte Denisovitch, and she was an information broker and she was back here to use him the same way she’d done it before. It didn’t matter that she’d given him fourteen blow jobs, each one a searing memory in his head because she’d done it with such sweet submission. She’d been hesitant at first, but then her enthusiasm had overwhelmed him. There had been joy in the act, not a simple exchange of pleasure.

She ran her tongue down his cock, lighting up every inch of his flesh. He watched her red and gold hair as it covered his thighs, and he wanted to shove his slacks away so he could feel how soft it was. He was utterly fascinated with it. It gleamed in the low light. He’d thought she was gorgeous before, but there was an odd confidence to the woman in front of him that was even sexier.

Most of the subs he’d fucked in the last couple of years would have cried if he’d used that tone of voice on them, but, no, Charlie just growled right back. There had been no scurrying away in the hopes of finding some kinder Master. Charlie knew what she wanted and she didn’t back down.

It was what had attracted him to her in the first place. She was a mix of vulnerability and predator, and he just couldn’t fucking resist her.

He let his head fall back.

“Do you want to make it last, Master?” Charlie asked between long swipes along his cock.

She was the only one who had to ask. He had control of himself. It was his stock-in-trade. He would come when he wanted to come. He always did. Except when Charlie went wild on him, and then he was in her world and she could take him places he’d never been.

He was going to have to show her that he wasn’t the same idiot she’d duped before. He slid his hands into that heavenly strawberry blonde hair and fisted all that silk. “You stop talking.”

Every word that came out of that lying mouth of hers brought him closer to the edge. He was not going to end up in bed with her. He wasn’t. He was going to control this encounter, this little bit of revenge, before he dumped her back in the yard and got on with his life.

His heart felt like it was squeezing inside his chest. She was alive. Charlie was alive. She was here and warm and soft and willing.

He shut that shit down fast. There would be absolutely no heart issues or weird, twisty gut flip-flops. She’d lied to him. She’d used him. She’d damn near gotten Liam killed. She’d cost all of them years of their lives.

He hated her. He fucking hated her with every bit of passion he’d once put into loving her.

“Take me. Take me deep.” If he allowed her to control the scene, she would play with him for hours. He knew damn well what she was doing. She was attempting to reforge a bond with him, the one they had found in Europe, the one that had been made strong with hours and hours of sex, with days spent lazing in bed and learning every inch of the other’s body.

He wasn’t wasting that kind of time again.

She swallowed him down. Again, she wasn’t a petite and delicate flower. No. When Charlotte decided to take a man deep, she forced him down. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. The pleasure was so forceful. Charlotte closed her mouth around him and worked him down with a pointed deliberation. All the while, that hand of hers was cupping his balls softly, playing with him.

Her tongue worked the underside of his cock, laving it with affection. Ian guided her up and down, using her hair to force her to take more.

Charlie just moaned around his cock, not a sound of pain, but one of pleasure. She’d loved him pulling on her hair. She had the sweetest touch of masochist inside her. She got hot from hair pulling and spanking, and she would light up when he nipped at her skin.

His cock was swelling, getting ready to shoot off. The heat from her mouth was more than he could take. His skin was too tight, his heart beating too fast. She was too much. Always too much.

She didn’t fight him, simply allowed him to fuck her mouth. She didn’t complain or prevaricate. A low hum began in the back of her throat, the sound transferring to his cock.

He wouldn’t be able to last. No matter how much he tried to control the scene.

Soft heat enveloped him, making his spine curl and balls draw up.

“Give it to me, Master,” Charlie said against his cockhead before she moved back down his dick.

She didn’t wait for him this time. She took him whole, working him to the silky place at the back of her throat. She held him there and then swallowed.

It took everything he had not to shout out as he came. It felt like it had been years since he’d shot off, like he’d been starving for this, dying for it.

He pressed into her mouth, giving her his come, what seemed like an endless stream.

Finally, he fell back against the chair. His body felt limp, drained, wrung out, but in the most pleasant of ways.

Charlie licked him clean. Her tongue didn’t stop because the come had. She suckled him softly, and just like that he felt the pressure start to build again.

He was not going for round two.

Ian forced himself to sit up. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

He called all the subs sweetheart because most of the time he couldn’t remember their names. He was going to put Charlotte firmly in the same category as the other women he’d screwed and forgotten along the way.

Of course, there had been a contract in place with those other women. Fuck. He’d just had sex and he hadn’t negotiated anything.

He needed to get her out of here.

“Master?” Charlie turned her eyes up when he stood and buttoned up his slacks.

There was no point in correcting her. She would just do it again. No. There was very little point in arguing or fighting with Charlotte. She was deeply stubborn, and he wasn’t willing to discipline her. That was a very bad idea. He leaned over and scooped her up into his arms.

Charlotte gasped a little, but then her arms were around his neck and a soft look hit her eyes. “You won’t regret it, babe. God, I missed you.”

“I never regret anything, sweetheart.” A blatant lie, but he was good at those. He was also going to enjoy the next couple of minutes. Charlie thought she had him right where she wanted him.

Instead of walking down the hallway to his private dungeon space or his bedroom, he turned back to the front door.

Charlie frowned. “Ian, don’t do this. Talk to me.”

He just kept walking. “I have nothing to say to you. Like I explained before, you tend to lie. You’re a very accomplished liar. The only thing you’re better at than lying is whoring.”

Her face went red and despite the fact that she was in his arms, she managed to plant a fist firmly in his face.

Yeah, that kind of got him hot, too. Charlie wouldn’t cry when she could lash out.

“You are a fucking asshole, Ian Taggart.”

“You’re just getting that?” He’d been called so much worse. He would take the decent right hook again because watching her get pissed was one of the few joys to come from this ill-conceived reunion. “I thought you were a big time information broker. Maybe you should rethink your career.”