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.
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.
A large man with a poorly concealed pistol in his pocket parked the boat and motioned toward the road. Immediately a group of men started hauling crates of what looked like liquor and food from a truck parked up on the road that ran along the beach.
King Kash didn’t have to pull into port. Port came to him. Men immediately went to work, loading down the speedboat with crates.
Ian waited. His timing had to be perfect. Too soon and there would be too many men around. Too late and he would miss the boat. Literally.
Sean yawned a little, watching the workers scurrying around the tourists. “You seem happier today. Is that because we’re going to get to kill Nelson or do you have other reasons? You seemed determined to sleep in this morning.”
Yep, this was his life now. This was why real Agency men didn’t bring their brothers out into the field. So they didn’t have to have relationship talks in the middle of an op. “I took your advice. Let’s leave it at that.”
But Sean didn’t. A grin spread across his brother’s face. “Are you kidding me? You finally listened? Shit. I owe Adam some cash. I said you would stay stubborn to the end. Hey, big brother, you want to spot me a couple hundred?”
He was so not paying for his brother’s bad habit of betting on his love life. He had a love life. The thought of putting the words love and life together didn’t make him want to vomit. Though he would never say that out loud. Yeah, he bet Sean would have lost a bundle if he’d bet on that.
He was saved from having to reply by Damon’s voice coming over the transmitter in his ear. “All right, mates. So it’s almost time. From what I can tell, he only has a small dedicated security team with him, but you can bet the crew on board that yacht is likely trained as well. We’ve vetted them as much as we can. They all look like loyal Loa Mali citizens. We think he’s got roughly three women with him right now. We have no names on them. Remember your cover. You have to convince this man that you’re reporters who have a meeting to interview the king about his upcoming appearance at the United Nations next month.”
Baz’s voice came through next. “Your man Adam says he’s managed to break into the king’s secretary’s system so when he looks at the calendar, it will tell him he’s scheduled to pick you up here.”
With the liquor. Nice.
“Do you boys have your credentials? Now don’t tell me you got all lazy and left them in the car. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the nice folks who stayed up all night making sure your cover looks good.” The question came out on a lazy drawl, but Ian was pretty sure Ten thought this was his op.
He was about to find out otherwise.
“I have them,” Ian replied. They had gone to a whole lot of trouble to dummy up very respectable-looking credentials. He was supposed to be some reporter named Brian Klein from
Newsweek
. Sean was his photographer. It was an elaborate plan, the kind agencies like the CIA and MI6 loved to come up with. Ian would swear that most operatives really needed to be writing fiction. They could be so damn overdramatic. He and Sean were supposed to infiltrate the king of Loa Mali’s yacht under the guise of reporters getting a scoop and figure out if Kash knew anything without telling him what they were up to.
It was a stupid plan and it very likely wouldn’t work. Simplicity was really the way to go here. He needed to get the king’s attention. The king wasn’t known for liking reporters. But Ian knew what the man did like.
“So where’s our stowaway?” Sean asked. He’d wholeheartedly agreed to the change of plans, and Simon was up at the fort to make sure no one decided to run down in time to mess things up.
Ian couldn’t help but grin a little as he looked down the beach. Charlie had hopped into their Jeep after the rest had headed up to the fort. She’d kept her head down as they drove a couple of miles down Palolem Road. Now she made her way to them wearing exactly what Ian had asked her to wear. He’d had the bikini delivered along with her other clothes before they left the US.
Thank god for personal shoppers.
His breath nearly caught as he looked at her. Despite the bikini, she looked innocent, damn near angelic with all that hair and her soft eyes. She didn’t look at him as she approached, merely wandered down to the beach as if she didn’t have a care in the world. She could be so obedient when she wanted to be. “Here she comes. Do you think she’ll do?”
“Ian, we have trouble,” Damon said, his voice rising with urgency. “It looks like your girl got away from the nest. Good god. I think she’s trying to get your attention, mate. This could be very bad. I don’t think you spank her often enough.”
Oh, she had every bit of his attention. His wife. His sub. His. Just his. Fuck, he was in love with her and it felt damn good. It felt so fucking good to just let go of all the shit between them. They weren’t exactly starting over again. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to let go of a minute with her, even the bad stuff. The bad stuff was still theirs. But they did have a clean slate.
She walked toward him wearing a ridiculously small white bikini that showed off her every luscious curve. The beach was full of lovely women, many much more slender and fashionable than his baby, but she reeked of sex to him. Charlie walked with the confidence of a woman who was comfortable in her own skin, and that had every man with eyes following her with their stares.
Sean shook his head a little. “Damn. Yes, I believe she’ll do the job. What is wrong with you? You said she was wearing a bathing suit, not pasties and a thong. If I caught Grace wearing that little clothing outside a club, I would slap her ass red.”
When had his brother become such a prude?
“I’m not worried.” He winked at her as she started to walk by them. Her strawberry blonde hair caught the light as it swung down her back. She was never cutting that hair if he had a say. It nearly reached her ass. It was perfect for holding onto and controlling her during sex. He was getting a hard-on just watching that juicy ass sway as she strolled along. “They can look all they like. I’m confident I can kill anyone who touches her.”
He didn’t mind them looking. He understood it. Charlie’s sex appeal came from far more than her curvy body. There wasn’t any self-consciousness in her movements. She’d accepted herself a long time before. He’d gotten to be the one to usher her into that beautiful state. When he’d first met her, she was gorgeous but shut down. Like a tightly budded flower that just needed a little light to bloom.
She glowed now. She glowed because she loved him.
Something calm had settled in his soul. Some piece of him that had always banged around in his head had finally stopped, finding its natural place because she was here.
“Ian, you need to stop her,” Damon said, his voice tense now. “She’s going to ruin the plan.”
Ian stood up. He was dressed somewhat like his brother. It was comfortable and he had no real intention of swimming this afternoon, so he’d gone along with it. “Plan’s changed, my friends.”
He and Sean made their way across the sand. Following in Charlie’s wake, no one really took notice of them.
“I think that dude is drooling,” Sean pointed out. “You were totally right. They don’t even check the women. What is he thinking?”
“He’s thinking he wants to get laid.” He’d made a quick study of Kamdar. He was known for inviting beautiful women onto his boat. He would find one, likely from watching the shoreline like a Peeping Tom pervert, and then send his men out to bring her to him. But men getting on the boat would likely go through rigorous checks.
The king’s errand boy was, in fact, drooling. He had gotten out of the boat to push it back toward the water, but he’d stopped the minute he’d gotten sight of Charlie.
“So you’re coming from that big yacht out there? Wow, that’s really impressive.” Charlie sounded so sweet and slightly dumb as she pointed out to the mega yacht. So very different from the way she sounded when she was giving him hell. Oddly, he thought she was way sexier when she was mouthing off.
“Yes,” the man replied, his chest puffing out. “This is the boat of my king. It is one of the largest yachts in the world. It is almost one hundred meters in length and has everything you could want. So much luxury. King Kashmir is the greatest king in the world.”
Charlie laughed, a giggly sound. She would make such a naughty schoolgirl. Just put a little skirt on her, put that hair up in pigtails, and he could go to town. “He must be really rich.”
“So very rich. I am very close to the king. Perhaps you would enjoy seeing the boat, meeting him? I could arrange this.”