Page 141 of Deacon

“Breathe, Freya,” he says. “Slow. Sink into the ropes.”

He brings his hand up and cups the nape of my neck. His other hand slides down and pushes the cup of my bra aside. His thumb circles my nipples. I’m bound and suspended, and the sensation is so strong that I try to squirm, but I can’t. There’s nothing to do but take it and feel everything.

He eases my head back so I’m hanging again. His clothes brush my side, moving around to stand beside me. His rough palm moves over my left breast. Fingertips stroke down my stomach, under my panties, between my thighs.

God, I might die.

It’s too much but not enough.

“You’re soaked,” he murmurs, dipping his fingertips into my pussy. “You want to come for me?”

“Yes,” I gasp.

He brings two fingers up and finds my clit, circling it. “Tell me who makes you come.”

“You make me come, daddy,” I whisper without thinking.

The hot coil deep inside me burns brighter until it spreads through my body like electricity. He doesn’t stop. His thumb circles my nipple. His fingers brush back and forth over my clit.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

I close my eyes, letting go of the stars for a moment. Here, my heart is raw, and it reaches out for him in the dark.

Pleasure blossoms, ink dripping into water. My muscles tighten and release in my bonds. Distantly, I hear him praise me as he slideshis fingers inside so I can grip them. All the tension I’ve carried for so long pops like a bubble.

I’m spinning, falling slowly.

Pleasure is a warm, soft force, reminding me I still have a body. It flows, it ebbs. It leaves me shivering in the ropes as he pulls his fingers from inside me. Then, he’s letting me down, unhooking the rope from somewhere I can’t see and reeling me gently to the floor.

The ropes are worked off me, and then I’m in his arms. He’s on his knees, my legs wrapping around his waist.

“Who am I?” he says.

My nails dig into his shoulders. “Mine,” I whisper.

His chest rumbles. “That’s right. What do you call me?”

I press my face into his shoulder. He smells like Deacon—solid, unyielding. My entire world. “Daddy,” I manage.

He strokes up my back, taking me by the nape. “That’s my girl.”

He picks me up easily and carries me back to our bedroom. Neither of us speak as he lays me down. I know what he wants, and I obediently spread my legs so he can press inside me.

It feels like coming home after being gone for so, so long. I know him by touch now. All the ridges, the veins, the fullness.

I know him by scent. By heartbeat.

Our eyes connect, our foreheads brush. There’s a warmth that could last forever in my veins. We’re both broken in two, but together, I think the two halves could make up the whole world.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

DEACON

The snow gives us a handful of days that blur into each other. I’m in paradise. Other than keeping the ranch running, all we do is eat, sleep, and fuck.

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