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)
Damn but he wanted more from her. A single night with this woman and he knew the rest of his experiences had been somewhat hollow. He’d sought out physical pleasure, but this felt like something more.
This felt like connection.
“I like this, Master Ian,” she said. “I like being close to you.”
He liked being close to her far too much, but he couldn’t find the will to push her away. He could find the will to tip her head up and bring his mouth to hers. He kissed her long and deep, their tongues playing intimately.
He didn’t kiss often. It was too much, too intimate, but he couldn’t help himself with this one. Her lips were lush, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t resist her. There was something about this woman, something infinitely warm and yet complex. Like an excellent Scotch. Somehow he knew she would burn down his throat and then settle in, filling him with her warmth.
He let his hands roam, stroking every inch of her skin, from the velvety fragility of her neck to her silky legs. He took his time because she’d never had a lover who took care of her before, who put her pleasure before his. She’d never had a Dom who lived to take care of her, who based his whole world around her.
Then again, he’d never been that Dom either, but the need was rising with every moment he spent with Charlie.
He hesitated, knowing that if he took this woman, things would change, and he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted. His life was comfortable. Not in any kind of physical sense. His life sucked when it came to that. There was no nice home to go to at night. There was no real home at all. He went where his boss sent him. There was no real future beyond the next op. He would end up like John Bishop. One day he wouldn’t be quite fast enough. All it took was one bad day and he would be done, leaving nothing behind.
“Master Ian?” Charlie’s hands came up, cupping his cheeks. The expression on her face was soft, understanding. “Ian, it’s okay if you’ve changed your mind. It’s okay. I don’t want to take more than you want to give. You’ve given me so much already. This has been the best night of my life.”
Her soft words cut through him, and he wasn’t sure why he said what he said next except that she’d knocked him on his ass. “Do you ever think about what it would be like to be normal?”
She shifted on his lap, the movement easy and comfortable, like they’d been lovers for a long time. Her eyes met his, clear and blue, open with honesty. “Every minute of the day. I wonder what it would be like to not be afraid, to trust the people around me. I wonder what it would be like to love a man, a good man, and to build something with him. It won’t happen. I have too many responsibilities, but I dream about it. Do you?”
“I think about having my own club.” But he’d been alone in all those dreams, the king of his palace.
Damn, but she would make a magnificent queen.
The dreamiest smile came over her face. “It would be beautiful.”
She was beautiful.
The song that drifted up from the floor below changed from a deep throbbing R&B song to a familiar, bittersweet guitar wail.
Sweet Child o’ Mine.
Her eyes drifted closed. “I love this song.”
He loved it, too, though he hadn’t understood parts of it until this moment. If he stared too long…
He kissed her again, letting the song and the words and the woman herself take him away.
He let go of his normal bullshit, all the posturing he did even in his head, and allowed himself to simply be with her. He kissed her again and again, their mouths melding even as his body longed to merge with hers.
Somewhere in the back of his head alarm bells were going off, as though that hard core of himself felt his walls shaking, but he ignored them all. It was so much nicer to ease her back in the big bed, to kick his boots off, shove his leathers down.
“You’re so beautiful, Master Ian.” Charlie was staring at him, her body taut and waiting.
She was the beautiful one. It was odd. No one had ever used that word to describe him before. He wasn’t beautiful. He was bloody and battered, and sometimes he was more tired than he ever wanted to admit. But that look on her face made him feel stupid and young and hopeful.
He grabbed the condom, managed to get it on his cock. He meant to stand at the end of the bed and spread her legs, shove his cock in and let himself fly.