Page 115 of Deacon

He’s fucking weird about Freya.

That’s why I won’t let her take her little bleeding heart back to his house. Whatever Bittern’s got going on, he’ll have to handle it himself. If I need to tie her up in the name of kink to keep her safe, I’m happy to do that.

It’s a win-win situation.

In the barn, I saddle up Bones. My mind turns over the weird case of Aiden Hatfield the entire time I’m out working. When I get back, I let Bones out into the paddock on the east side and walk back to the house. When I open the door, I hear a faint yapping.

In the living room, Stu is awake. He’s rolling around on the carpet in his kennel like he’s got an itch. I scoop him up and bring the collapsable pen outside so he can grub around in the grass for a while. It’s a little chilly but not too cold for him yet.

I wash my hands in the kitchen, knock the mud off my boots, and head upstairs. When I push open the door, she’s awake.

And she’s scowling.

Her hair is tousled, she’s still naked, but she’s got the blanket pulled up over her breasts. The silver chain trails up and disappears beneath it. I shut the door, and her eyes flick up, pale blue in the morning light pouring through the window.

“I can’t believe you,” she whispers.

“I said you weren’t leaving this ranch, and I meant it,” I say, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I need you to trust me on this one.”

I lean in, meaning to kiss her. She tilts her head. The air crackles. I know we’re both thinking about last night. I will be for a long time. It was the kind of intimacy I’ve only longed for but never experienced until now.

I kiss her. She lets me, parting her lips. We break apart.

“Fine,” she whispers. “I’ll do whatever this is, but you have to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

She dips her head, brow touching my chin. “Save Bittern.”

I have no plan, no idea where I go from here with the Hatfields, but I can’t deny her anything.

“I swear,” I say. “In return, you be a good girl and listen to me.”

She bites her lip, worrying it. “Fine.”

I kiss her temple and pull back the sheets to unlock the chain. When I pick her up, she wraps her arms around my neck. It hurts my chest, but I don’t know why. Maybe because it’s the first time she’s trusted anybody enough to wrap her arms around them unprompted.

We shower together. I get on my knees and wash the metal strands of the harness. It sits beautifully on her full hips, leaving no marks on her skin. She doesn’t move away when I lift one knee over my shoulder and put my mouth on her pussy.

Instead, she welcomes it. She leans against the wall and runs her fingers through my hair.

She strokes my jaw, my neck. Little moans echo in the shower stall. I lick her pussy until I feel her thigh tighten against my jaw. Her knuckles go white, nails digging into my skin.

When she comes, I push my tongue inside her pussy to feel her pleasure like a heartbeat.

I don’t fuck her. It’s not the right time. Instead, I dry her off carefully and have her stand while I clip the strap between her thighs. To my surprise, she doesn’t say a word about it. She likes this game.

I get her bra from the dresser and one of my flannels. It’s warm inside, but I know she gets cold easily, so I pull a pair of tall socks up her legs. It’s no burden for me—there’s nothing sexier than seeing Freya in a pair of thigh highs. Before I get up, I have to think about the dumbest shit I can to make my dick calm down.

“You hungry?”

She doesn’t move, arms wrapped around her body. My heart melts. She looks so lost and unsure.

“What’s wrong?”

Her chin trembles. “My insects,” she whispers. “My butterflies and moths.”

I pick her up and lift her into my lap.

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