Page 109 of Deacon

His hand brushes my hair, petting me. “Good girl.”

It’s gentle. Without thinking, I press my cheek to his thigh and let him stroke me. Warmth and safety move through my body. I’m so tired of being strong. I want someone to share the weight sitting on my shoulders.

He lifts me from the floor and sets me on the bed, on my knees. Face burning, I lift my eyes to the mirror. My stomach twists. Arousal pours through me like fire. I’ve never seen myself like this, so softly erotic against the dark backdrop of his bed.

My nipples are hard, flushed deep rose. My eyes are glassy. I’m beautiful, curvy, punctuated by silver chains and black leather.

His pants and boots hit the ground. Then, he’s behind me, his hard body naked. Our eyes lock in the mirror. He puts a hand over my throat, thumb against my jaw. His eyes have an edge of stern ice to them.

He’s jealous, but I don’t know why. He has no competition.

I wonder if he knows.

Or if he sees something I don’t.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice is hoarse.

My lips part, but I don’t know how to answer that. I’ve never belonged to anyone, and it feels good. He drags his hand up, gathering my hair in his fist. He guides my head back so I’m forced to watch him in the mirror.

“You belong to me,” he says. “Mine. You don’t leave.”

Ice cold fingers trace down my spine. Between my thighs, I’m drenched. He shifts back less than an inch, reaching between us. I gasp as he notches his cock into me. From this angle, sitting on my heels with my legs locked open, my pussy is so tight. It fights him, but he forces himself in, jaw locked, eyes on me.

“Oh God,” I gasp, vision flickering.

His chest heaves, ink glittering with sweat. “Is it too much? Or too little? Maybe I should fuck your ass.”

I twist, shocked. “No, no, don’t.”

The corner of his mouth jerks up. He pumps his hips hard, pushing himself more than halfway into my pussy. A dull ache sparks in my belly. I don’t understand how he can be so gentle, so amusing, so kind, but get him jealous, and he’s an animal.

If he fucks me there, I don’t think I can take that. He’s already stretching me to the limit between my thighs.

He pushes me down, and I half expect to fall onto the bed on my face. But then, he slips his forearm through some kind of loop on the sheath that holds my arms locked behind my back.

Shocked, I hang from his arm, bound in place. His other hand grips the garter on my right thigh. He drags my head up again, hand fisted in my hair.

“This is my pussy,” he breathes. “It stays right here.”

My eyes water. I sniff, swallowing.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Say it, tell me.”

Heat burns from my head to my curled toes. “This is your pussy, daddy,” I whisper. “It stays here.”

He ruts his hips hard, slamming his cock up against my cervix.

“Good girl.” The words force out from between his teeth. “You watch me fuck you. If I see your eyes leave the mirror, I will turn you over and fuck your ass. Understood?”

My breasts heave. The whites of my eyes flash.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, daddy.”

He keeps his gaze on mine as he starts fucking in earnest. The bonds on my body, the rod between my thighs, keeps me at such an angle that I’m not taking any of my own weight. No, I hang from my arms, and he fucks me like I’m nothing but his toy.

Weakness, warm and welcome, pours into me. I don’t have to do anything to please him but keep my eyes open and watch him ravage me. I never expect it, but tonight, I find myself slipping into submission.

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