Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“I built a privacy room that’s just for us, baby.” He wouldn’t have to share it with anyone because there were plenty. He’d built them a suite complete with a massive bathroom. The shower and soaking tub were built for the two of them. The tile was heated because her feet were always cold and the towel racks warmed the big fluffy bath sheets he’d ordered for her. The bed was huge and there would be an armoire stocked with everything he would need to torture his pretty submissive. In that room they wouldn’t be husband and wife. They wouldn’t be partners. They wouldn’t be parents. In that room, they would be lovers, Master and sub. Ian and Charlie.
“I can’t wait to see it.” She sucked the head of his cock, sending pleasure coursing through his system. Her tongue bathed his dick. Over and over, she laved him with affection.
He was a possessive asshole, but he wasn’t going to change. She belonged to him. She’d belonged to him since that moment he’d looked across the dungeon floor in Paris and saw her. Back then she’d had dark hair, but that mischievous grin had been the same.
He’d known then and there that he wanted her. It hadn’t taken long to figure out he wanted her forever.
Suddenly, he needed more. As she sucked him, he could see it—their life together playing out in sharp scenes in his head. Those first days when he realized what it meant to go crazy over a woman. He’d never wanted anyone the way he had Charlie. It had been refreshing and terrifying all at once. That first time he’d slid into her body, forcing his way in as she clung to him. Sweet Child o’ Mine had played throughout the club, and they’d taken way longer in the privacy room than he’d signed them up for. He saw her standing there in London as he’d made her his wife and no matter what he did, he would always see her dead. It was always on the edge of his consciousness. He knew what it felt like to lose Charlie.
And to get her back. He could feel himself opening the door the night Alex and Eve had remarried. One moment changed everything. One turn of a doorknob had shifted him into another world—one where Charlie was alive again.
He’d fought her. He’d fought so hard and now he couldn’t think of a single reason why. He should have gotten on his knees and thanked the fucking universe for the second chance he’d been given.
There was no one—no other woman in the world—who moved him, who challenged him, who completed him.
He tugged her off his dick. If she went much longer, he would come in her mouth, and that wasn’t what he needed. He needed communion. His love for her was sacred and he needed to pray. “No, Charlie. I want to get inside you. I need to be inside you.”
He stood, not giving a damn that his slacks slid off. He reached down to draw her up. She was heavier, but that was only because she was carrying their babies. The truth was, she was beautiful always to him. She could gain or lose weight, grow older, change her hair. It wouldn’t matter. He would see her one way. He was surprised to find out the Charlie of his dreams wasn’t the woman he’d first met. She’d been amazing. She’d haunted his dreams for years, but when he closed his eyes, the Charlie he saw was the one he’d opened the door to. The one who had been smart enough and brave enough to find her way home. The one with strawberry blonde hair. She’d gotten on her knees for him that night, too.
“Charlie Taggart,” he said in an authoritative voice as his hands found her hips.
Despite the fact that she was tall for a woman, she had to look up at him. “Yes, Ian?”
He stared at her as though he could imprint his will on her. “Did I ever say thank you?”
Her lips curled up slightly. “You rarely do, but you don’t need words to say how you feel. I know.”
But she deserved the words. “Thank you for coming back for me.”
Her face softened and reached up to touch his, her fingertips sliding along his jaw. “Babe, there was never a question of that. I will always find my way back to you.”
“I love you and you should know that if you die on me again, I’ll find you. I won’t let us be apart again.”
“Never again,” she promised. “Ian, I’m going to be okay.”
She always saw through him. He lowered his mouth to hers. “You better be or there will be hell to pay. I love you.”
“Back at you, Taggart.”
Her arms went around his neck and he stopped thinking about anything but getting inside her. His tongue plunged deep and met with hers, sliding together. He caressed those sensitive breasts and felt her shudder in his arms. She was right. He’d spent the last few weeks treating her like she was fragile, but his Charlie was strong enough to handle almost anything. He drew her close and circled one of her nipples with his thumb. Even under the cotton shirt and bra she was wearing, he could feel the nipple go rigid, begging for his tongue and mouth. He unbuttoned her blouse and drew the strap of her bra down so he could release one plump breast.