Page 114 of Deacon

He breathes out harshly. “Come on my cock, sweetheart.”

I start riding him, my head falling to the side. He gathers my hair, bunching the curls in his fists. His eyes shift behind me. I turn and slow, entranced by the sight of us in the mirror.

My body is beautiful. My waist dips in, his hand on it, and my hips widen, full like an erotic painting.

“Lean into me,” he orders.

Transfixed, I let him pull me against his chest. We both gaze at our tangled bodies. Flushed, I let my eyes slip down my arched spine to where my pussy is visible. It’s wet, stretched around his cock. It’s the prettiest, filthiest thing I’ve ever seen, and he can’t tear his eyes from it.

The darkness of the room falls away.

The horror of his past melts.

It’s just me and him, bodies fused together. The firelight sheds an orange glow over us. The chains on my hips glitter as I rise and fall, watching my body pull him in and let him slide out, glistening with my arousal.

My arms go around his neck. He circles my clit with his finger, and his other hand goes from my waist to my lower belly and applies pressure. A tight coil of need springs free. There’s a hot ache that pushes right over the edge, and I cry out, my voice echoing in the room.

“God, girl, fucking come on me,” he says, jaw tight.

I pump hard, pleasure twisting my spine. He holds me upright, hips still rutting into me. A vein stands out in the side of his neck. His collarbones are flushed as his body tenses. Then, he swears softly, and I feel him pump more cum into my pussy.

His lids flicker. My pleasure dies away, leaving me glowing.

“Pull off slowly,” he murmurs. “I want to watch.”

He’s filthy, and he makes me want things I can’t speak aloud. Humiliated, I let him lift me off his cock, and we both watch as he slips out. My pussy is flushed and swollen. His cock is drenched in what we did together.

I cling to him. “Kiss me?”

I didn’t mean to voice that out loud, but now that my head is clear from orgasm and he’s slowly softening, there’s a cold dread in my chest. He flips me onto my side and pulls me against his chest.

His mouth finds mine. His kisses burn my lips and tongue. Reverent, generous. The same hands that know how to kill wind into my hair and hold my throat.

Dimly, I hear him tell me all the things I want to hear. That I’m beautiful, obedient, that I belong to him.

I don’t know if those things are true, but after the way he fucked me, I need to hear them.

My heart is open.

He could break it if he wanted.

But I don’t pull away because he knows what I need. He doesn’t hold back his affection. My body is kissed, stroked, praised, and held until I forget everything. Until the stars flicker out as my eyes shut.

I don’t want to float away in them tonight. For tonight, I’m safe down here on Earth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

DEACON

She’s fast asleep when I get out of bed. It’s the weekend, finally, and the ranch is quiet. The wranglers will have already taken care of chores—it’s almost eight. I need to get my ass outside and pull my weight.

She doesn’t stir when I roll her on her side and clip the leash to the hook above her clit. I’ll leave the chastity strap off so she can shower and use the toilet, but when she’s done, she gets it locked on for the rest of the day.

I kiss her forehead and clip the leash onto the bed and lock both ends. She can get to the bathroom easily but no further.

As I descend the stairs, I mull over yesterday night. I’ve always been careful when it comes to BDSM. I follow the rules because I like them, and they’re there for a reason. But in a situation as complex as Freya’s, they’ve become something of a shield. I’d rather she think I’m just being kinky than what I’m actually doing—keeping her safe.

Something is off with Aiden, beyond just being abusive. I can’t put my finger on it.

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