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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DEACON

There’s darkness in me, hidden deep down, beneath the humor I use to cope. It grew there a long time ago and never died.

It was the fuel that made me pull that fence stake from my shoulder, walk bleeding out to the house, and sink it into Henderson. Amie’s picture was still on the mantle, blank eyes watching as I killed her son. I never felt shame like that before, never felt it again.

Darkness and shame made me light a match and burn it all.

Tonight, it’s back. Despite how I fought to be a different man for her, it’s part of me. Keeping hold of her, I sink down to my knee. Her eyes are huge, breasts heaving beneath my flannel. I swear, I can smell how wet her cunt is. I bend my head, and she tries to pull back as I push my face into the apex of her thighs and inhale.

Sweet, potent. God, that makes me feral.

My dick presses against my zipper, my head empty. I’ve held back. I’ve been patient. Tonight, I’m getting what’s mine.

Deftly, I rise and flip her so she’s bent over the table and pull her hands behind her back. Before she can speak, I grip her shirt and tear the buttons open with my free hand. It slides down her arms, and I let it fall around her ankles .

Her naked body writhes, spine arching. Her curves are breathtaking in the half-orange light. I release her hands and gather her hair, pinning it against the nape of her neck and pushing her cheek against the table.

“I’m going to eat you out, sweetheart,” I say.

She jerks, trying to turn her head, but she doesn’t tell me no. Entranced, I run my palm down her spine, over the curves of her ass, down to the little wet valley between her legs, until I find what I’ve spent the last several months jerking myself off to—the soft heat of her cunt.

I love giving oral, more than anything. I’d do anything to lay back and let her fuck my face until she soaks it. It’s killing me that I haven’t tasted her yet.

That ends tonight.

My heart pounds. I flip her around, lifting her into my arms. Her legs curl, and I grip her thigh, falling back against the wall.

Our mouths meet, and she moans on my tongue. My hand slides between her legs and my fingers delve into her pussy, hard enough that she cries out against my mouth. I break away, breathless.

“Take it,” I urge, fucking hard with my hand.

Her eyes roll back. She has the sweetest expression when I’m ruining her, a mix of pleasure and pain. Her full mouth parts, flashing the pink of her tongue. Her throat bends, exposing her soft skin.

“Deacon,” she whimpers.

Bracing her on the table, I take her by the throat with my free hand and fuck her pussy with my fingers. Our eyes meet. All I see is clear innocence. Pale blue like the sky, big, thick lashes. God, she’s something else.

“Yeah?” I grit out, still fucking her on my hand. “You got something to say?”

Her throat bobs as she shakes her head.

“Good,” I say, releasing the last bit of my conscience. “Because I’m eating your cunt, and you’re gonna wrap those legs around my head and come on my face. ”

Ruthlessly, I draw my fingers free and flip her onto her back on the table. She squirms, and I gather her wrists, holding her down. Our eyes lock. She bites her lip, brows creasing. I’m walking a fine line, I know that. I have to remember that if she can’t trust me, she can’t trust anyone.

But she hasn’t said no.

I bend in, kissing her mouth hard. Her breasts heave as I trail those kisses down her breasts, her stomach, to the soft, naked mound over her cunt. That scent hits me again. It feels like snorting something. My veins open, blood pouring to my groin. I’m not the same as I was when I fell asleep. She does things to me. She makes me better and so much worse.

I bury my face between her legs, drowning in her taste, in the sweet wetness in her cunt.

Distantly, she gives a little cry and pulls against my grip. I find her clit and run my tongue over it, sucking it into my mouth and working it with rhythmic pulses. Her body fights me, and it triggers something deep inside that makes me want more.

I’m so fucked up. I hoped she wouldn’t see this side, but God, I want to chase her, to drag her down and fuck her on the stone floor. I want her to beg me to stop while she comes around my cock.

I never meant to be aggressive with her, but I can’t help myself.

She clearly can’t help herself either, because she gives a defeated wail and shudders. My cock aches somewhere below. I shove my face against her cunt, pushing my tongue inside her wet opening so she can come on it. And it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt—softness pulsing strong on my mouth.

I’m in a heaven I don’t deserve.

The moment her orgasm ebbs, I pick her up and carry her panting body to the forge. By the window, her skin was cold. I lay her over the anvil, letting her torso hang upside down. All that hair falls to the stone ground. Balancing her thigh in my grip, I start to unzip my pants with the other hand.

“Deacon,” she gasps.

“It’s just my cock, sweetheart. You know how to take it,” I say .

My eyes fall on something else, the fence spike I was halfway finished with when she arrived. It’s sharpened on one end, the steel blunt on the other side. I haven’t pounded it down, so it’s still round. It looks a lot like the stake I put in Henderson that night.

It looks a lot like the worst thing I’ve ever done.

One handed, I take it up, wrapping the fingers soaked in her arousal around it. She’s helpless at this angle. The anvil is below her lower back, her upper body hangs helplessly. Her thighs are spread, inches from my groin.

“You want fucked?” I breathe.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

Arousal slips out, glittering in the forge light. Deftly, I flip the stake around to the blunt end and spit on it. I touch it to her clit, and she jerks, moaning.

“What…is that?” her voice cracks.

I want to see this thing that’s haunted me slip into the soft heat of her cunt. The worst and best things in the world, intertwined. Slowly, I drag it down to her opening and press it in. Her body responds, shuddering, but keeping still. There’s nowhere for her to go at this angle. I have all the power.

“Is that—”

“A fence stake? Yeah,” I murmur, fascinated by how she takes it.

Inch by inch. Soft, pink pussy on hard metal. She’s so wet, it slides right in. The cry that breaks from her lips sends blood pouring through my veins, pooling in my groin. Ruthlessly, I fuck her cunt with it, the wet sounds echoing in the blacksmith shop. She cries out. I push her to the limits.

Arousal drips over the ink on my knuckles. I crouch over her, pressing my mouth to her swollen clit. Her hips shake, jerking beneath me. She’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen, her curvy body bent over the anvil and her pussy taking the steel. A tremor goes through it, one I feel up my arm. And she comes again, this time squirting around the stake.

Heat shoots down my spine, erupting .

God-fucking-damnit. I meant to fuck her, but it’s too late. My cock jerks against my zipper. Pleasure throbs, and I withdraw the stake so I can lean my forehead against her thigh and let myself come in my pants. We both shudder, our breath harsh. Then, everything is still.

“Deacon,” she whimpers.

I drop the stake on the anvil block and pick her up, letting her tumble into my arms. We’re on the floor, she’s in my lap. Her lower lip is swollen with a hint of blood.

“What was that?” she whispers.

I run my lips over her forehead, pushing my face into her hair. “You.”

“What?”

My grip intensifies, digging into her soft curves. “You. You fuck me up, sweetheart.”

I pull back, brushing her hair from her face. Her pale eyes are enormous.

“You didn’t fuck me,” she whispers. “Why not?”

I can’t bite back a laugh as I press my forehead to hers. “Give me a few minutes and I can.”

She’s already flushed, but she goes red as the realization sinks in. She glances down then up again.

“Did you…come in your pants?”

“Yeah,” I say, pulling her closer. “You make me crazy, sweetheart. I’m trying not to scare you, but God, you’re fucking up my head.”

She hiccups, and I wonder if she’s going to cry. Instead, she curls up in a ball in my lap and presses her face into my shoulder. Reverently, I hold her, stroking over her tangled curls. Inside, I’m relieved.

I showed her a flash of my true colors, and she didn’t run.

“Take me back to bed,” she whispers.

I carry her all the way there. She lies still while I clean her body, while I kiss it and touch the delicate opening of her pussy to make sure I didn’t hurt her. Her eyelids are heavy. Gently, I pull her against my bare chest .

Skin on skin, better than I ever imagined it could be. I close my eyes and, for the first time, I think I see a way forward for us.

Darkness and all.