“What’s so funny, my good little bad girl?” Charlie asked, and he fucked me harder.
The Beast faded from my sight, and I managed to strain out, “I just love how you make me feel.”
Charlie’s controlled breaths turned into ragged pants. “Good, because I can’t hold back any?—”
Charlie didn’t have the ability to finish the sentence, because he came. He gasped and held on to me tightly, and I came again, mixing our two climaxes into one powerful harmony. His feelings ricocheted through our bond, and I rode them with delight as he came down from his rapture.
Charlie staggered away, then put a hand on the wall to steady himself. I noticed through our bond his consciousness flicker for a moment, and I became concerned.
“Please sit down,” I pleaded. That had been a lot of activity, for him still recovering.
He stumbled to the bed and sat to take a few deep breaths. “It was your fault for getting me so worked up.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” I crooned, but I really wasn’t. Not after all that.
“It’s okay. I forgive you,” he said with a sly smile.
I was still hanging upside down, and by now, I could feel the blood draining to my head. “Um… can you get me down?”
“Sure.” Charlie slowly got up and refastened his pants. He released the cuffs binding my limbs and picked me up out of the swing. He carried me through the mirror and out of the Sanctuary, then set me on our bed.
“Can I leave my wrists tied in the rope?” I begged.
“For a little bit,” he said. “I want you in that lingerie a while longer.”
He laid beside me as the Mediterranean breeze blew through the open balcony, filling our bedroom with warmth. His fingers skimmed over my skin absentmindedly as we talked, which we liked to do after we played. We could converse for hours, talking about anything and everything. If we didn’t have any responsibilities, we could lay here all day.
Charlie moved closer to me, then winced as his ribs laid on a hard object stuck in the covers. “Ouch.”
He shifted on the bed and dug under the covers. He pulled out a notebook with a thick spine, and said, “A book? Why is this here?”
“Oops. I was writing in that yesterday,” I apologized. “I must’ve left it in the bed. Sorry.”
“What’s this?” he teased, flipping the pages. “A diary of our adventures? Should I call a servant to read it out loud?”
“Don’t.” I laughed. “It’s not for anyone’s eyes but us.”
“Oh?” he asked curiously.
“It’s a notebook, containing three lists,” I said. “One list is for all the places I want us to travel to, once the war is over. Anotherlist is for all the places I want us to have sex— all the positions, and all the different toys I want to try. That list is pretty long.”
“You’ll have to read it to me sometime,” Charlie said, sounding amused. “I have my own ideas I’d like to add.”
“I’m sure. We’ll be working our way through it for the rest of our lives.” It sounded so delicious. I couldn’t wait.
“What’s the third list?” Charlie asked curiously.
I frowned. “The last list doesn’t even have a full page.”
“What’s on it?”
Might as well be honest. “It’s a list of people I want to kill.”
Charlie didn’t even flinch— or react at all— like my answer was something as benign as a list of clothes I wanted to buy, and not a murder sheet. “Who’s on the list?”
I blinked as I mused on the names. “Before we killed them, it was Mad Dog. Naya. Deuce. Esther.”
“And at the top?”
