AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We wash up in the bathroom, and he fingers methereto help clean me. My legs near collapse with how much I'm enjoying that stimulation now. I stroke his length as he does, massaging soap into his cock with two hands.
We dry each other.
"Lay down, sweet girl. I'll be back shortly."
I sit on the bed, hug my knees, and stare at the door, already anticipatingshortlyis a lie. The phantom sensation of his fingers and cock inside me still flush arousal through my body as I wait.
Within a minute, he's back with my kitten in hand, and I'm bouncing a little with excitement to see her.
Beaming, I reach for the fluffy animal and instantly fall backwards with her pawing my chest and fumbling in my grip.
Her squeaky meows mix with my voice as I say, "You're going to let her sleep in the bed?"
It surprises me. Yet, I don’t know why. I suppose a man who has pillows staged in perfect diamonds and uncomfortable wrought-iron tables placed in prime lounging areas, doesn't strike me as the kind of man who allows white fur over his black sheets or takes kindly to early morning kitten licks to the nose and cheeks.
Sliding onto the mattress, he positions himself on one elbow to watch me and her play. I run the tips of my fingers down her little fur legs, and she pulls them from me like, ‘I gotta use those leggies, Mummy.’I laugh a little at my own inner monologue.
"She can sleep in the bed for now," he answers. A smile that is smooth, devilish charm taps the corner of his lips, making him look younger but no less intimidating.
My heart grows. "For tonight?"
"At least tonight."
I study him, meeting unwavering eyes that are always assessing and watching. He’s radiating heat; his muscles are still on fire from the meticulous way he fucked me. I didn’t do anything. I never domuch…
"Did I do okay?" I ask him, tucking a piece of his dark hair behind his ear, rewarded with the easiest of chuckles—the deepest and most contented and just…Clay.
"Such a sweet question."
“I didn’t—I don’t really ever do much.” I shrug. “Is that okay?” I stroke my kitten as she meows, falling off my chest into the small gap between Clay and me. "I feel like I just—”
“Take meso well. Look so pretty. Flush for me. Open for me. You sound so endearing when you come apart around my cock, and you enjoy the way I control your body. You enjoy being manhandled, little deer. Don’t feel ashamed. You’re safe with me, sweet girl. Safe to be you.”
“Am I enough?” I swallow thickly. “Like that?”
"You are more than enough, little deer," he admits. "My strong, brave, bratty, sweet girl. I don’t think you understand what you mean to me. I am changing for you, not the other way around. You wanted comfort; I filled my home with pillows and lounges. Hung a dreamcatcher above my bed. Replaced my books with softer stories. You wanted to be spoilt; I make sure you have every kind of sweet thing available to you. You wanted a purpose, responsibility, so I gave you the kitten. You wanted attention; I’ll offer you every moment I have to give.
"And”—his eyes darken— “you wanted to be disciplined, to be held accountable, so I will damn well punish you when you misbehave. You wanted a dangerous man, little deer, and I will threaten the lives of every fucker you meet.And…” He pauses, and I’m riveted by his every word. “You want pleasure, so I will give you every kind you desire. Becauseyouare notenough. You are more. So, I will make the world around you more too.”
My heart expands. When I peer up at the dreamcatcher above my head, my smile growstoo—everything growing, swelling, making room for the future. Thinking about all the love and affection I now have. Friendships. Him. His family. My kitten.
Clay Butcher.
The Don of theCosa Nostra,who hangs dreamcatchers over his bed, sleeps with a nameless white kitten… A man who understands intimately who I am, through my skin and bone to my soul, to my slowly building self-confidence. Who understands what I have been through. Who turns the immaculate world he lives in around to fit my brand of rumpled and eccentric personality, to meetmyneeds.
For a moment, inside my mind, I see a smoke-filled forest and eyes so like mine staring back at me through the fog. As I focus on those brown eyes, my kitten prods me with her little needles. I sigh. I don't need a man with my likeness; I don't need a father or a mother or a sibling or uncle, not when I havehimas all-consuming and impressive as all those roles combined.
He is my everything.
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
fawn
Luna.
Luna Butcher.
She pads around in the diamond gap of my legs, occasionally stopping to lick milk from my cereal bowl. The television flashes with the morning news, and I get my first glimpse of Clay since we fell asleep last night.
