Page 79 of Deacon

She wanted me. Shebeggedto have me tonight. Maybe I’m not as good of a man as I hoped.

I’m halfway up the stairs before I realize what I’m doing, but I don’t stop myself because I’ve done this dozens of times. I know I can control myself. I’m an expert at dipping into the worst parts of myself and using that to meet my submissive’s needs but never going over the line.

I open the bedroom door.

She pulled the armchair from the hearth to the window, and she’s curled in it, cheek resting on her hand. Her pale eyes are fixed on the sky.

“Freya,” I say.

She looks up. Her dressing gown is gone—she’s in just her slip with nothing underneath. I’d get kicked to shit all over again for a night with a body like hers. And yet, somehow, for some reason, she’s offering it to me for nothing.

“Deacon,” she whispers.

“Come here.”

She comes, and I gather her hair up, wrapping it once around my hand. She gasps as I draw her head back.

“You wanted me,” I say.

Her throat bobs, her lips part. Her mouth is full, so soft, like a pale pink flower. I bend and kiss it—vanilla and velvet petals, hard, harsh, open. I want to drink her down, to breathe only the air from her body.

“All of me?” I say hoarsely.

She nods, not hesitating. Something is different. Her walls are down and she’s vulnerable.

“If I do anything you don’t want, you say red,” I say.

Her brows knit together. “You mean…like a safe word?”

I nod. “Exactly. Like a safe word. We’ll pick a different one later. For now, say red. And if you can’t speak, tap my side. You got that?”

She backs up a step. Her throat bobs. My eyes trail down over her full breasts and the swell they make over her hourglass waist. Her hips flare out, her smooth legs tapering down to delicate feet. She’s the whole goddamn package.

She lifts a hand and pushes the straps of her slip down until it hits the floor.

God, I’mdying.

“I’m gonna go hard on you, sweetheart,” I say, my voice rough. “You have to use your words if you want it to stop.”

She nods, eyes huge.

“I can say red,” she whispers.

Stepping close, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and drag her against me. “Good girl.”

Her spine arches, her lips part. She offers them to me, and I kiss her hard enough that our teeth clash. My head goes empty. My cock throbs, sensitive against the inside of my sweatpants. I lift her easily, spreading her thighs to wrap them around my waist. Her arms slip around my neck, her curls spilling around us.

We fall to the bed. She looks up at me with wide eyes.

“You’re hurt,” she says.

I glance down at the gauze coming up over the waistband of my pants. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I say.

“Maybe you should rest.”

I almost shake my head, but something flickers over her face. It looks like…a little bit of fear. That stops me in my tracks. I don’t want Freya to be afraid of me. She’s clearly aroused. Her nipples are hard and I can smell how wet she is between her legs, but that doesn’t negate the fear.

“What’s going on in your head, sweetheart?” I say.

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