He started back to his office, not bothering to look back. “It’s how I deal with my sub. If anyone asks, I’m unavailable until we’re ready to head to the airport, and tell Adam he better have our papers ready or I’ll use this on him.”
He walked back through his door and there she was, a vision of submission waiting for him. God, he should be prepping for the operation, but all he wanted to do was lose himself in her. He wanted to lock the office door and never come out. For the first time, he thought seriously about running with her. He knew how to hide. No one would find them. They could be anonymous. They could give up everything and just find an island and never leave it.
And never see his brother again. Never know how Carys would look as a sassy teenager giving Sean hell. Never have kids of his own because they would be a weakness.
Life had been so much easier before she’d walked back in, but he knew in a moment that he didn’t want easy.
“Show me.” He stood in front of her, his cock twitching insistently, but he wanted to see it.
She nodded slightly, taking the plug in her hand. “I need some lube. I always use lube.”
As she should. He passed it to her, forcing his hand not to find her hair. When he was in a room with her, it was hard not to touch her, and when he wasn’t in a room with her, it was hard not to find whatever room she was in and be there, too.
She very carefully lubed up the plug. He’d picked the one that was just shy of being his size, but she didn’t seem intimidated by it. She simply ran her hands over it, covering the hard plastic plug generously.
There was no hesitation, no worry in her movement. It seemed almost like a loving ritual, one she’d performed often.
He’d told her he would spend weeks preparing her for anal sex. He’d explained that she would have to wear the plug regularly to stretch her so he didn’t hurt her.
Had she really spent five fucking years preparing herself for him?
“May I move to the couch, Master? I usually do this on a bed."
He didn’t correct her anymore. He was her Master. He always had been. He’d never allowed anyone to call him that on a personal basis. He was Master Ian at Sanctum, but Sir when playing. Because as much as she belonged to him, he knew in his heart that he belonged to her. Forever.
He just wasn’t sure it could work. “Yes. Do what you always do. I want to watch.”
She rose, grace in her every movement. She’d only started to practice when she’d left him, but her ease now spoke of years of rising from the submissive position, years of lowering herself down. She was a well-trained sub.
Had she done that herself? Had she done all of it while thinking of him, planning to come home to him?
Had this woman truly ached for him the way he’d ached for her?
He watched, his cock throbbing as she knelt on the couch, her backside to him. She spread her knees wide and allowed her torso to lay flat so that her ass was in the air, stretched by the position of her knees. She gave him the most delicious view of her asshole, all rosy and pink. Her hand held the plug, moving from underneath to place the flesh colored plug right against that gorgeous hole. Her rosette was tight, small. It didn’t look for a second like it could handle the monster she’d placed against it.
Her back was supple, all her muscles relaxed. She let out a long sigh as she pressed the plug to her ass, twisted it, opening the right side first so she could slip the plug in.
One smooth move and she was plugged, only the flat base in sight.
Other women might offer him a home-cooked meal or ask to hold his hand as a romantic gesture, but his wife understood him.
She plugged herself like a pro, and it was the most fucking romantic thing he’d ever seen.
He moved forward, placing a hand on that gloriously round ass, loving the little mewling sigh that came from her throat the minute he touched her. “How long do you usually keep it in?”
“I like to sleep with it.”
She didn’t say anything more, but he heard everything she didn’t say. She slept with it because it was like sleeping with him buried deep inside her. Because in those moments, she could close her eyes and pretend he was still with her.
God, he wanted to believe her. He wanted it more than anything in his life.
He lightly touched the base of the plug. Her muscles contracted around it, a pleasure reflex. “Do you like it?”
“I didn’t at first. It was weird. I did it because you wanted me to. I thought it would be something I would endure because it would bring you pleasure.”
“And now?”
“I dream about it, Master. I dream about you fucking my asshole and taking what’s yours.”
She was going to make him come with nothing but sweet words.
There was no question about it. He could fuck her and she would love it. He would love it.
All he had to do was take out that plug and shove his cock in. He could get off fast and then maybe he would be able to think. He could take what he needed and retreat again.
“Turn over.” He couldn’t handle using her the way he had before. He might not know what to do with her outside of the bedroom, but he was going to be her true Master in it. A Master took care of his sub first.
She carefully lowered herself to the couch and rolled over. Her eyes stared up at him warily. Did she think he would dismiss her now? Maybe laugh at her for years of service?
“Thank you, love.” He picked up her right foot, bringing it to his lips and kissing her toes. They were ticklish. He could torture her for hours by playing with her feet. What he’d never told her was he hadn’t done it because he wanted to punish her. He just loved to hear her laugh.
“You don’t think it’s weird?”
He bit gently at her toes and she practically jumped. “I think it’s entirely weird, and you’re the most perverted woman I’ve ever met. Lucky for you I have a thing for perverts.”
“Ian, don’t.” She tried to wiggle her foot away.
He tightened his grip. “You don’t tell me what to do when we’re in the bedroom.”
She whimpered a little. “You know I hate that, Master.”
“But I love it.” Most subs hated the whip or being caned, but not his Charlie. She hated having her feet tickled. Unfortunately for her, he loved to do it.
He ran his tongue over the soul of her foot.
Charlie let out a strangled scream, squirming on the couch, and then he heard it, that low, gorgeous sound. It rang through the whole room and made his soul feel lighter. Yes, he was going to take her. He was going to fill her with his come until she couldn’t see straight, but god, he loved her laugh.