Take It On The Run

Chapter 32

POV: Deacon

I rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time and stared up at a glass chandelier dangling from the vaulted stone ceiling. The guest bedroom I'd been assigned to was comfortable and luxurious, but all I could think about was Sloan.

I couldn't imagine what she was going through right now. She didn't deserve to live in a constant state of trauma, yet fate seemed to have other plans.

Everything she'd believed about her father had been wrong, and now she was engaged to some cradle-robbing psychopath, being bartered and passed between men like a toy. Men who were perfectly okay with almost beating her to death for sport.

I released a long exhale.

Reliving her medical file on the plane had broken me all over again. I hated that I was incapable of protecting her from her past, that I hadn't been there to protect her in the first place.

I wanted to murder Liam Murphy and Cillian Gallagher. They'd stolen everything from her, from all of us. We could never get those formative years back, but I didn't want to spend another moment wasting time. I knew exactly what I wanted. She was only a few doors away from me.

I was trying to be a good guy and let her have the distance she'd requested, but my willpower had been slowly waning since sprawling across the silken sheets.

I needed to hold her, to feel her skin against mine and remind myself that she was safe. I had to know she was okay—inside and out.

I lost the battle against temptation as I slid from the massive bed, not bothering to don a shirt before making my way into the frigid hall.

She'd had enough space for one evening, I decided. If she truly didn't want me in her bed, I knew she'd kick me out. I'd respect her decision either way, but nothing would stop me from going to her now.

Sloan was such a deep sleeper that I didn't bother knocking as I entered her room. It was even larger than mine, the front area acting as lounging quarters. I found the double doors to the bedroom and closed them behind me.

For a moment, I simply watched her from the side of the bed. She looked so peaceful and utterly radiant that my cock stiffened. I couldn't believe how fucking lucky I was to have the love of this woman.

I pulled the duvet back and climbed onto the mattress, cupping her curvy body with my own. At her soft sigh, my length strained against my sweatpants. She arched slightly against me then, the friction sending a ripple of pleasure through my legs.

"Deacon?" Even her sleepy voice was ridiculously cute.

My arm came around her bare waist, pulling her back flush with my chest. "It's me, sweetness."

"Is everything alright?"

"It is now." I tangled my legs with hers, kissing her shoulder.

She chuckled. "How are you already hard? I haven't even done anything."

"You don't have to do anything to make me want you, Sloan. But that's not what I'm here for. I just needed to be with you."

"That's a shame," she replied in a low teasing tone.

God, she was so fucking sexy. So beautiful and resilient. It was hard to believe that she could still be this sultry and playful after everything she'd endured.

"Why is that, sweetness?" I asked huskily.

"Because I'm already wet for you."

I groaned as my cock twitched. "I'm trying to be a good boyfriend slash lover slash partner right now, but you're making it incredibly difficult."