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CHAPTER EIGHT

DEACON

When I brought her home, I knew we would end up in my bed, deep down. I just thought I’d try to make it sweet. Soft, like a girl like Freya deserves. I didn’t expect her to want it rough.

She looks so good on her hands and knees. Her spine is arched. She’s naked, her skin glowing in the firelight. Her waist narrows down and her hips blossom out, her ass full and round. She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen, much less touched.

My hand looks wrong on her waist. She’s better than I deserve, but I’m just fucked up enough to go through with this, from beginning to end.

She has me, hook, line, and sinker.

“Put your hand on the headboard,” I order.

She obeys. Her knuckles are white with tension. The angle arches her spine and spreads her ass, giving me the first view of her pussy in this position.

Goddamn, it’s perfect.

Soft, full, a dusky pink. I spit on my fingers and flip my hand facing down, pushing my middle finger inside to watch her stretch around it. The sound that comes out of her is…well, it’s been a long time in my imagination, and it’s even better in reality .

“Hold still,” I order.

She obeys, but her thighs tremble. Inside, she’s better than I imagined. And I imagined it a lot, all soft, tight, slick with arousal. I felt it on my dick, but it’s different exploring it with my finger.

This feels like pussy I won’t be able to give up.

Not that I mean to. No, I already got a room in my house waiting for her. This is just the first step in making her stay.

I move my fingers until I find that little swollen place inside and stroke it. She gasps, back arching hard. A glitter of wetness slips between my knuckles. I have to resist the urge to bend down and lick it.

I want to taste her so badly.

“Look at you,” I murmur, transfixed. “Look at that fucking pussy.”

She clenches down on me. My head goes blank, and I slip my fingers free and move up behind her ass. One hand goes into her hair, the other sliding between us to guide my cock to her soaked cunt. The head slips inside, piercings and all.

We both gasp, her louder than me. My eyes fall to where my cock meets her pussy. She’s fluttering, gripping me. Then, in one, even stroke, I force her to take every inch, all the way until I feel the resistance of her cervix, smooth against the tip of my cock.

“I can feel the…piercings,” she breathes.

I work my hips. “You like it?”

She nods hard, moaning. I slide my hand up, gripping her throat, and pull her back against my abdomen. In the fracture-inlaid mirrors across my headboard, her dusky pink nipples and full breasts are reflected a dozen times.

Slowly, I drag out and slam back in.

She cries out and her tits shake. My hips work, my cock stroking into her hot, velvety cunt.

She’d make a perfect submissive.

My mind flashes with that image. Freya, bound on her knees with her arms tucked behind her back, hair falling down her back, full mouth open, eyes big and fixed up at me. Dark ropes snaked around her curves, binding her until she’s fully helpless .

My brain buzzes.

Maybe it goes too blank.

She’s so beautiful in the darkness of my bedroom. Curvy, soft, too pretty for a man like me. I need her to stay this way forever. It’s been weeks of waiting. Now, I finally have her in my bed.

I’m falling hard. The ground is inviting.

Gently, I pull out halfway just to feel her grip me like she’s trying to keep me in. Then, I fuck into her, rutting my hips hard. The sounds of our bodies meeting, her wet cunt wrapped around my cock, fill the bedroom.

I thought I could make this romantic for her.

But it’s just dirty, visceral.

She takes it as I slam into her, ass shaking. Little whines, low moans, fall from her lips. My hand leaves her hair and grips her at the waist. Her curves are the prettiest thing I’ve ever touched—supple in some places, soft and round in others. I want to bite them hard enough to leave marks.

The bed hits the wall, over and over.

I catch flashes of her in the mirrors. Open mouth, pink tongue. Bright blue eyes, dark lashes like feathers. The pale underbelly of her throat, faint fingerprints on it. Full tits, the little curve of her lower stomach.

And when I look down, the way that perfect ass shakes and that pussy just takes me as I use it… It’s too much.

There’s nothing left in my head. I’m just pounding blood and desire.

I push her down onto her belly, lifting her hips until she’s on her knees so she’s spread with her spine arched. From this angle, I’m so fucking deep. I bend, kissing her shoulder. My hips pump. I swear, I’m up in this girl’s throat. By the sounds she’s making, she feels it too.

“Deacon,” she whimpers.

Oh God, she’s saying my name. A tingle shoots down my spine. I grip her hair, shoving her to the bed with her cheek against the quilt. Her eyes are wet, her lips swollen. I fuck harder, faster. Pleasure is a roaring inferno, but I can still stop it if I want.

I should ask if she wants me to pull out.

But I don’t.

Instead, I shove my cock so deep inside her, I can feel her cervix push back, and I come hard. The feeling is euphoric. Not once have I fucked a woman without a condom. Now, here I am, balls deep with nothing between us, emptying every drop of cum into her cunt.

I waited so long for this.

We both go still. Physically, I’m satisfied, but the rest of me is already wondering how I can get my mouth on her pussy. Slowly, I push myself upright. She sniffs, lifting her head. My cock is still hard, and she winces as I pull it out. A bit of my cum drips down her swollen pussy and hits the bed.

I swipe it with my finger and put it back inside.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

She nods, sitting back on her heels. Her ass is so beautiful at this angle, round, soft. I’m distracted by it, and I don’t notice she’s looking at herself in the fractured mirrors.

She sniffs again. I catch her gaze in my reflection.

Her eyes are wet—does she regret me?

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” I say.

I go into the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on, and run a washcloth under warm water. When I return, she’s sitting against the headboard, forearm over her breasts. Her brows are creased. Her mouth is pressed together in a worried pout.

I zip my pants and sit on the edge of the bed.

“Can you open up for me?” I ask gently.

She bites her lip. A pink stain spreads over her nose and cheeks. For a moment, I think she’ll refuse. But then, her thighs part, and I ache in my pants at the sight of her battered little pussy, dripping cum onto my bed. She winces as I wipe her clean and set the rag aside.

I lean in, brushing her tangled curls back .

“I know you don’t want me putting my mouth on your pussy, but I want to touch it,” I say. “All you have to do is lay back and spread those perfect legs.”

Her breath hitches, eyes glittering.

“It should feel good for you too,” I say, keeping my voice low.

“I’ve never done that,” she says finally.

“Never been touched? Or you’ve never come?”

“Never been touched like this.”

I take hold of her thigh and ease her onto her back. She slides down, her hair a dark cloud around her face. She gasps as I lay my body alongside hers, one hand resting on her lower belly.

Our eyes meet, inches apart.

I kiss her, so softly. She moans, and some of the tension in her body eases. I pull back. Our noses touch, and I can taste her sweetness.

“You like kissing?” I ask.

“Yes,” she breathes.

I kiss her again, taking my time, being gentle the way someone like her deserves. All the while, I keep my hand rubbing over her skin, down to the mound above her pussy, down until my fingertips find her clit.

I pull back. Her eyes are wide, glazed like she’s drunk off sex.

“You like that, sweetheart?” I murmur. “You want me to touch this pretty pussy?”

Her lids flicker. “You’re so dirty.”

Her voice is faint, probably because I’m dipping my fingers into her and taking the slickness of our cum to rub over her clit. Her thighs tense. Her hips lift an inch off the bed and come back down, her spine locking.

“Good fucking girl,” I praise.

She’s in profile, and I’m stretched out beside her. A little huff of breath escapes her lips. If I had to guess, she’s close. It won’t take her long to tumble over the edge. I see it in the tightening of her stomach. I feel it in her swollen clit between my fingers .

I pinch it, rubbing. She whimpers aloud. I bend in and kiss the side of her neck, pushing her head to the side so I can access the slope of her shoulder.

She pants. My fingers move faster, back and forth.

“Let it out, sweetheart,” I tell her.

Her spine locks, her thighs spread. I’m aware I need to soak this all in—the first time she comes for me. It’s perfect. A ripple of pleasure moves through her soft curves. Her thighs tremble. Her toes curl and her feet arch. A little cry slips out, her hands moving up to grip the pillow. I slip my hand down, pushing my middle finger inside and pressing the heel of my hand against her clit.

She grinds and explodes.

Shaking around my finger until she’s a spent mess on the bed.

I kiss her forehead. “Good girl.”

I need a stiff drink after that. She peels herself off the quilt and we both sit up. Her face is pink, her hair tousled. She looks thoroughly fucked and satisfied.

God, I’m proud of that.

“You go use the bathroom,” I say. “I’ll go down and get you some water.”

She nods, watching me closely as I rise to pull my shirt off. Then, she stands up and promptly falls over. I catch her in time, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“My legs are…shaking,” she gasps.

I can’t keep the self-satisfied smirk off my face. “Need me to carry you to the bathroom?”

She shakes her head, pushing my hand off. Her steps are unsteady, but she makes it to the bathroom. I get the fleeting impression of her pout, her flashing eyes, and then the door shuts.

I’m alone, standing by the bed stained with what we did.

All I can think is…I need more.

My eyes fall on the floor, where her flannel shirt and panties lie. Head blank, I pick up her panties, flip them over to the strip of fabric where her pussy sits, and push them against my face.

That’s what I need more of .

My brain buzzes, and I’m rock hard again. I push the panties in my pocket and go downstairs. When I return with a glass of cold water for her and a shot of whiskey for me, she’s back in bed. The sheets are pulled over her breasts, her curls tumbling around her naked shoulders.

She drinks. I nurse my whiskey and watch.

I don't want her to go home, but I can’t scare her off by asking her to stay the first night we spend together.

She doesn’t know I’ve been planning on getting her into my bed for months. That can’t come out until I’ve got her locked down. She needs time. Maybe a little space.

Then, she’ll come back to me.

She burrows into the bed. I stretch out beside her. Gently, I stroke her neck and back, the dip above the curve of her ass. She’s exhausted, so it takes less than five minutes for her eyes to start flickering. Then, her body goes limp, and she’s out.

I rise and go into the bathroom to clean up. When I step out of my pants, I pause. My eyes drop down at my halfway hard cock.

She bled. I spit on my fingers and rub the pink streaked up my length. I put my finger in my mouth, just to make sure it really is blood. Metal and something intoxicatingly sweet fills my mouth.

Was she a virgin? If she was, I wish she’d told me. I wouldn’t have been so rough.

These questions will have to wait until the morning. I get in the shower and jerk off, trying to get my dick to calm down so I can sleep. Seeing her come got me all hot and bothered again. Afterward, I dry off and put on sweatpants before getting back into bed with her.

This is all I’ve ever wanted—the little sigh she lets out in her sleep as I pull her into my arms, the feeling of peace as her curves fit perfectly against my body.

There’s no going back for me.

She’s worth everything I’m going to do to make her mine.