Page 82

CHARLOTTE

Song- Play with Fire, Sam Tinnesz, Yacht Money

“ D eclan?” I call out, knocking on the last door.

I’ve not ventured this far through his mansion. It has two damn wings. As soon as we got home, he headed to his office, and I’ve not heard from him since.

I understand why he’s annoyed. Once he meets Isabella, he’ll realize why I’d give my life for hers. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I try not to think too much. Vlad won’t go down easy, and he trusts no one. Let alone me. He’s many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

“In here,” he shouts back.

Pushing on the wood, I see him sprawled out, book in his lap, glasses hanging from his hand, and a smirk that could level cities. Fuck, he looks fine.

One foot rests on his knee, the red-bottom boots on full display. His black suit is unbuttoned just enough to reveal the intricate ink crawling up his throat. He clears his throat. I close my mouth before I start drooling.

“Hi.” I smile. He quirks a brow and the room shifts. Thick with heat as he watches me.

I force myself to look away, taking in the space around him.

An enormous glass window towers behind him, throwing fractured beams of light across the dark wooden floor. To the left, a full wall of books. Floor to ceiling. All matte black shelves.

“Damn. A rolling ladder?” I ask, almost in disbelief.

I step closer, letting the scent of old pages fill my lungs. Running my fingers along the spines, I pause.

“Take one out.” His voice is laced with amusement.

“Okay.” I slide a book free where my hand rests.

Every cover is black or gray. My brows knit. “All the same author?”

He chuckles. “No, these are custom covers to fit the aesthetic… and perhaps hide my tastes.”

My pulse picks up.

“Go on. Open it up,” he commands.

I flip to a random page.

“Read it.”

Scanning, my eyes go wide.

“Lots of cock and spanking, sir.” I bite my lip, heat flooding my face.

But I keep reading. Goddamn, it’s hot.

I might need to borrow a few lines, hell, it might help me finish my book if I ever make it back.

A sharp gasp leaves me as I look up. He’s right in front of me. Towering over me.

“You read a lot?” I ask, peeking over the book. Obvious answer, dumb question.

He nods, rolling up his sleeves. “Helps with some of my other interests.”

“Oh, yeah?”

A stupid flicker of jealousy twists in my gut. Him. Other women. I hate it.

“What better way to learn how a woman likes to be pleasured than by reading the spicy words of one? These books are like instructions for me.”

My breath stutters as he leans in, brushing his lips against my cheek.

“They’re also incredibly helpful for coming up with creative ideas to punish a naughty, reckless sub.”

His hands are on me before I can think. He’s grabbing my ass, lifting me like I weigh nothing. My back hits the shelf and his mouth finds my neck. I gasp; my legs locking around his hips, his cock is already hard against me.

“Am I in trouble? Is that why you’re ignoring me?”

His hand wraps around my throat.

“No. I’m ignoring you because I’m trying to behave and not fuck some sense into you. You don’t see it, do you?”

His eyes bore into mine. Unrelenting.

“I told you I’d do anything to get my girl out safely. I wasn’t joking, and you won’t change my mind.”

“Goddamn it, Charlotte. I’m not losing you. Not after I just got you back. Isabella needs her mom, and so do I.”

His words gut me.

He doesn’t want to lose me. Not just for our daughter—but for him.

It’s… terrifying. To be wanted this much. To be respected. Safe. No hidden motive. No trap.

Just him.

“But—”

He crushes his mouth to mine.

“It’s about time you learned your place, baby. I’m done being nice. You need more to understand, don’t you?”

My eyes widen as he rips off my panties and tosses them behind him.

“Pain and pleasure. That’s what you’re desperate for, isn’t it? Clearly you want to be hurt. Punished, even.”

His pupils darken as he tears open my blouse, buttons clattering to the floor like shrapnel.

“So fucking sexy.”

He licks his lips, hikes up my skirt, and drops to his knees.

The book slips from my fingers, hitting the floor as he licks my pussy and a moan escapes my lips.

“The real question is, do you deserve more?” His voice rasps against my thighs.

“I do. Please, sir,” I plead.

He flicks his tongue over my clit. I start to shake, and as I do, he pulls his mouth away.

“Remember how nice that feels. Chase it.”

In one motion he’s up, gripping my throat, yanking me from the shelf.

“Kneel.”

I drop. As easy as that. It’s like I was made to do this, just for him. My body just knows.

His fingers glide through my hair, the other hand unzipping his pants, freeing his cock. I lick my lips, watching the pre-cum bead at the tip.

But he backs away, smirking as he strolls to his desk and picks up his glass of whiskey, dipping his finger into it.

“Open.”

I obey, and he slips his finger into my mouth.

“Mmm.”

He pulls away, grabbing something from his pocket. A lighter. He flicks it on and I watch the flame grow in his hand.

“Even if this room was on fucking fire, I still wouldn’t let you leave until you finished sucking my cock.”

His voice is gravel and flame as he lowers the lighter toward my face.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You just told me you don’t want me to leave.”

He licks his lips and takes a slow sip of whiskey.

“Hmm. No. Perhaps I’d change it up. You can’t leave until you come on my face. Just think, you’re watching the flames tear this place apart, creeping closer and closer. You’re battling fear and pleasure. But there is no escape. In that moment your only choice is to be consumed by one or the other. Pain or pleasure. And that will decide if you fall apart for me… or you fucking burn for me.”

His words ripple down my spine like ice.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To walk into your own death? You don’t seem to care if you live or die.”

I breathe, barely able to find my voice. “And what about you? Because if I go, it looks like you’re not too far behind.”

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink. Instead, he walks back to his desk. Papers everywhere, and he pours whiskey over them without breaking eye contact.

I freeze.

“I’ll burn with you and because of you. You are the blaze in my life, my mind, and my fucking heart. We are the flame, sweetheart. Together, we can destroy everything in our wake. But if we’re separated? We extinguish. There is no me without you. So yes. If you want to burn… I’ll burn right beside you.”

He tips the last of the bottle out, the amber liquid soaking through the sheets.

My heart pounds as he approaches again, the flame dancing in his hand.

“What do you say, heartbreaker? Burn with me?”

I don’t know why, but I nod.

And I swear I’ve never felt more alive.