Page 177 of Deacon

“Well, I think whatever it is, it’s lucky to have you, Frey,” he says, giving me a soft stare.

God, there he is. The dullness is gone, and the Bittern I love shines right through.

I wipe my puffy face. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m starving.”

My throat is so tight, I can’t do anything but nod. Ginny appears behind me and waves Bittern up the stairs. This is their first meeting, but I hear her scolding him about being too thin as they head downthe hall—didn’t they feed him anything in that rehab? For all the money it costs, they should have. Smiling, I linger by the door for Deacon. He comes up the walkway, sauntering like he owns the world.

He wraps an arm around my waist, one hand on my belly.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, kissing me.

“I’m crying and pregnant, but thank you,” I say, kissing him back.

He guides me into the house, shutting the door. Stu comes tearing around the corner, almost doubled in size since the day I found him. I found out from Jensen, after cornering him in the café one day, that Stu wasn’t a stray. Deacon bought him from a neighboring farm and put him in the alley. Then, Jensen stuck around to make sure I found him and pointed me in the direction of Ryder Ranch.

I was speechless. The nerve of Deacon Ryder to set a trap with a puppy as bait. And I fell for it.

He’s a wild man, but I love it. I’m never bored.

I scratch Stu behind the ears, adjusting his plaid bandana. Deacon says he’d make a good hunting dog when fall comes around. Stu thinks that’s too much work, I can tell. He’d much rather hang out at the house than go out into the cold. He’s been glued to my side every moment of this pregnancy, so it’s easy to see who he likes best anyway.

In the kitchen, Andy leans on the stove, talking to Bittern. The other day, he cleaned out one of the unused employee houses. Bittern will live there for as long as he wants, and he’ll work for the ranch. That was Deacon’s idea, to help give Bittern a soft landing so all that rehab sticks.

That’s what he says, but I know he wants Bittern close for my sake.

Ginny piles the table with thick, cheesy potato soup and garlic bread. We sit down, and Deacon puts his hand on my thigh under the table. I nibble—I’m so pregnant, it’s hard to find room for a full meal—and look around the table with my heart full.

Bittern is alert, talking with Ginny and Andy like the accident never happened. Deacon is listening, absently stroking my leg. Myheart is so full. I lay my hand on my stomach, grateful I didn’t run when I had the chance.

Sometimes, it feels like a dream. But then, I look at him, and he’s so real, I know it’s not.

This is my life. I love and I’m loved back.

After dinner, when the house is quiet and we’re alone, I go upstairs and undress for bed. I hear Deacon turn out the lights and say goodnight to Stu before heading up. He walks down the hallway and into our room, shutting the door behind him.

I’m on my side, feeling incredibly pregnant, but not too pregnant to notice he’s looking good. My hormones have been raging. We’ve had more sex than ever in the last eight months.

He strips off and gets in the shower. I flip on my other side so I can watch the stars come out over the mountains. I’m drowsy by the time he comes out and gets into bed, his warm, naked skin sending shivers of pleasure through me.

“Mind if I borrow that pussy for a minute?” he says, kissing up my neck.

“It’s all yours, daddy,” I murmur.

I let him shift my thigh to rest over his knee. I’ve had some swelling, so I’m not wearing the chastity belt, but he gave me a silver bracelet to wear instead. It’s a beautiful circlet, with our initials entwined on the clasp.

He spits in his hand and guides his cock into me, groaning. The sensation of hard smoothness and the four points of his piercings make my eyes roll back.

“It feels good,” I whisper, letting my head sink into the pillow.

“Better than good,” he breathes.

He fucks me, slow and deep. I bite my lip when he strokes my clit, pumping lazily, until I orgasm with a breathy gasp. Dimly, I hear him call me his good girl, his hand on my throat. He’s so hard, I’m filled with the sweetest pressure as he comes, emptying into my pussy.

I love our casual intimacy—the kinky things he does, the intense scenes, they burn me up. They’re a place where we can workeverything out, and I feel so safe with him. But the little things about being his wife are the things that make me feel the most loved.

The kisses pressed to my cheek before he leaves in the morning. When he grabs my ass as he goes by. The quickies we have when he’s in a hurry or comes in late. The sleepy morning sex before he goes out to do chores.

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