Page 140 of Deacon

He loves me.

It’s in the tremor of his mouth, hot over my clit for a fleeting second. It’s in the depths of his eyes as he looks up at me. It’s in how gently he clasps the bra over my spine before putting another kiss above my navel.

Do I love him?

And if I do, who speaks first?

He circles me. His mouth brushes my nape. “Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

I nod.

“Words.” His voice is firm.

“Yes, daddy,” I whisper.

Silk slips over my eyes, blocking everything out. My heart pumps. My fingers clench at my sides.

“That’s my girl.”

He picks me up and lays me on my back on the floor. I feel it creak as his weight shifts, and then the familiar softness of the ropes slip around my limbs.

I don’t know what he’s doing, but I trust him.

His hands leave my body. There’s several minutes of him moving around me. Then, slowly, I feel myself lifted, and I’m no longer grounded.

I’m drifting through dark space.

“Deacon,” I gasp.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says. “You’re safe.”

I’m so helpless; he’s in complete control. All I can do is hang from the ropes and let him lift me up. How high, it’s impossible to tell.

Then, all movement stops. The pressure is pleasant. I don’t think I could take it for longer than a half hour or so, but it feels stable, comforting. I’m weightless. My ankles are tied, my arms behind my back. The ropes cradle me without cutting into my skin.

My head falls back. His hand cups the back of my neck. I startle when his mouth meets mine, upside down. He kisses me deeply. Sparks go off in the darkness. Heat coils up, white hot, glimmering through my veins.

Slowly, my body relaxes.

He pulls back, his fingers brush my hair, and then the blindfold falls away. I blink, focusing my eyes.

Then, I gasp.

Overhead, all I see are a million stars through the skylights, softly pale, brightly glittering. Black, blue, and silver in a cascade. This is how I imagined it might be to float up into the sky, to leave the world behind.

No pain, no sadness.

Just floating, breathing, heart beating.

“You alright?”

I can’t tear my eyes from the sky. He’s near. I sense him.

“Yes,” I whisper. “It’s beautiful.”

With difficulty, I stretch my neck back and see him standing over me, looking down. From this angle, the stars are behind his head. He’s half shadowed, and I can’t read his dark eyes, but I don’t have to anymore.

I trust him.

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