Chapter Eighteen.

Letting himself into the bar early Monday morning, Deacon sighed as he made his way toward his office. It had been a long and lonely weekend. But he'd taken his uncle's advice and had made a decision on what was more important to him his role a Dom or his future relationship with Bethany and their unborn child. In the end, there was no real choice. If pushed, he could live without his weekly visits to the club, without using his toys on Bethany's sweetly submissive flesh but he couldn't live without her presence in his life. And if I don't get my head out of my a.s.s she's gonna leave.

Their weekend apart drove home that fact. He'd been lonely. He couldn't believe how much he had missed his little sub. It hadn't taken him long to realize that it wasn't just because of the release she gave him so effortlessly. No, what he found himself longing for more than the thrill of feeling her give over to him, was the warm weight against his side as she snuggled closer. The press of her nose against his chest as she tried to crawl on top of him while still asleep. Even the way she bit her lower lip when she tried to balance out the mess he'd made of the books. He flat out loved the woman and it scared him s.h.i.tless.

To the point I'll rein in my darker l.u.s.ts to be the man she wants to raise our child.

Making his way down the hall to toward his office, he only prayed his control didn't falter once he laid his eyes on Bethany. "I'll just have to remember that she's carrying my child. Only a true s.a.d.i.s.t would inflict pain on a pregnant woman." He opened the door to his office and froze.

"Bethany?" His d.i.c.k hardened in a rush, as her head came up and she met his gaze.

"I was waiting for you, Sir."

Completely naked, other than his collar, Bethany knelt next to his desk with her legs splayed wide enough to show him her p.u.s.s.y. Her hands rested palms up on her thighs, and her back was straight. Between her knees lay his favorite crop as if she'd antic.i.p.ated him needing it. At that particular moment, she was the epitome of everything he wanted in a submissive. His newfound resolve wavered. He'd expected Bethany to test him to push but not this soon. Not the very second he laid eyes on her. He drew a deep steadying breath. He could do this.

"The cold floor is no place for my pregnant submissive, little one."

She licked her lips. "It is if the submissive in question needs to make amends for her prior bad behavior."

Antic.i.p.ation coiled in his stomach, his d.i.c.k hardening at the idea of punishing his Bethany. Her a.s.s always looked s.e.xy as h.e.l.l when striped from his flogger. Something Bethany seemed to love as well if the number of times she acted out were any indication.

Just like now.

To avoid temptation, he rounded his desk on the other side. "And what bad acts are you thinking you need punished for, Bethany?"

"I...I argued with you. I threw my pills at you. Didn't tell you right away that I was pregnant, and..." she drew a deep breath. "I never told you about Amanda's married lover."

"Hmmm. That's quite a list." He sank into the chair behind his desk and beckoned her closer. When she crawled over to him, on her hands and knees, his c.o.c.k thumped inside his jeans. d.a.m.n, did she realize how hot that was? To see those beautiful t.i.ts of her swaying with each sensuous, seductive move?

When she reached his side, she dropped her gaze. A rough sound escaped him, and he threaded his fingers through her high ponytail and tugged her head back. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears. His Bethany crying? This wouldn't do. "I should punish you, if not for keeping Amanda's affair a secret, then for the fact that you struck your Dom. You know that, right?" He couldn't keep the l.u.s.t to do just those acts out of his tone.

"Yes, Sir." Her eyes lowered. "I was a very bad sub."

"Yes, you were. However, I've been told by my mother that I may have had it coming." A rueful smile crossed his lips. His talk on Sunday with his mom had been quite enlightening. Evidently "Yes, dear" would go a long way in keeping his head attached to his shoulders during Bethany's pregnancy.

She seemed taken back by the smile on his face. Her straight teeth worried her lower lip as she gazed up at him uneasily. "Maybe. But I still shouldn't have done it." She took a deep breath. "Which is why I'm asking to be punished. Would you like me to get your crop, Sir?"

He growled at her softly worded request. "No. Not yet." He had no intentions of lighting her a.s.s up with his favorite toy. She was carrying precious cargo. But she didn't need to know that. "I'm in the mood for something entirely different today."

Her breathing became raspy. "You are, Sir?"

"Yes, after we deal with this punishment you requested." He released her hair, then carefully slid back, making room between the desk and his chair. "Over my knees."

"But..." Her eyes widened when he patted his thigh.

"I won't ask again, Bethany." He let just a bit of his inner Dom bleed into his tone. His sweet little subbie loved it when he went cold on her. She'd once admitted to him that it stroked her l.u.s.ts even higher to think her submission wasn't affecting him.

"Yes, Sir." She scrambled to her feet and gingerly draped herself across his legs.

"Hands on the floor, but don't lock your elbows." He lightly sc.r.a.pped his nails over her hipbone, before pulling her a.s.s up a bit higher into the perfect angle for maximum exposure. He lightly rubbed one a.s.s cheek while she shifted her weight forward. Once she had both hands firmly planted, he drew one finger down the closed seam of her p.u.s.s.y. Moisture teased his fingertip.

Already wet beautiful little sub.

He wanted to close his eyes against the temptation she presented, but she chose that moment to open her mouth.

"I'm ready, Sir."

He forced down the growl that wanted to escape his chest, then thrust two of his fingers inside her sheath and rocking her forward on her hands. "I'll say when you're ready, sub."

Her sharp inhalation, followed by a moan soothed him. This is what he wanted his sweet little Bethany moaning his name as he pleasured her.

But that d.a.m.ned punishment.

He'd never struggled so hard in his life to deal out a punishment. He was aching to bury his c.o.c.k inside her snug p.u.s.s.y. He gathered his flagging self control around him, and withdrew his fingers. On his lap her hips twisted as if to recapture his fingers. He lightly cracked the side of her a.s.s. "Be still."

She groaned, but obeyed, her hips ceasing all movement. "Very good. Now, why do you think you need to be punished, sub?"

"I...kept Amanda's married lover a secret. I made her break up with you."

Surprise filtered through him at her response. Of all the things she could've listed the angry words she'd spoken during their fight, the pill bottle she'd thrown at him, even kicking him out he'd have never expected her to touch on Amanda's affair.

Perhaps she's trying to tell me something?

"And why did you do that?"

She was silent for a long time almost until he thought he would have to force the issue, then she answered. "Because I didn't want to hurt you, by telling you that she had another lover."

He forced his anger at her reply down. Now wasn't the time to get angry. "And letting me think that I was lacking as a Dom would be less painful?"

"I..." Her voice came out choked. "I didn't know you were in the lifestyle, Sir. I just knew I couldn't be the one to hurt you and if I let Amanda continue with the wedding plans and you got married, when you found out you'd have been the laughing stock of town. I just couldn't bear the idea of it."

His anger died a swift death. This was the Bethany he knew. The soft-hearted spitfire who always put everyone else first. The woman who ran his bar better than he ever could've, but still couldn't stand to kill even a bug. The friend who would blackmail his fiance to protect Deacon from the fallout of Amanda's infidelity.

"In the end, it doesn't matter. I don't see why I should punish you when Amanda is no longer part of my life and I now have a s.e.xy submissive that I love draped across my knees."

"You do?" She tried to lift herself up high enough to look at him. "Still love me, that is?"

He chuckled and shifted her so she was sitting upright and straddling his legs while facing him. "Of course, I do." He cupped her cheek. "Every couple fights, little one. But those who truly love one another don't give up. I will make this work. Which is why, it may take awhile, but I'll do the best I can to be the husband to you and the father our child needs."

Tears stung her eyes as Bethany met Deacon's gaze. Blame it on pregnancy hormones or her sleepless nights over the weekend, but his words set off a cascade of emotions she didn't know how to handle. At first her brain went, 'huh, this wasn't her Sir.', then fear crawled through her system. Who the h.e.l.l was this was a stranger wearing her Sir's face, and how did she get her rough kick-a.s.s Dominant back? She wanted his forgiveness, so they could move forward. But having to deal with a man spouting off relationship advice he'd probably gotten out some d.a.m.ned magazine had her completely off balance. Was this his way of inferring he didn't want to be her dominant anymore?

"Sir? Are you taking my collar back?"

Irritation flashed across his face. "Of course not." A hint of her Dom shown through, as he traced the silver chain gracing the hollow of her neck. "You're my submissive. I'm your Dom. I'm just hoping that one day...before the baby is born, you'll allow me to make an honest woman out of you." He placed a fingertip over her lips, when she opened her mouth to protest. "And it has nothing to do with my mother or your pregnancy. I wanted to marry you before I even knew about the baby."

"You did?" Her words were m.u.f.fled by his finger.

He nodded and gave her a s.e.xy grin. "I even showed my uncle the ring before I came over on Friday. I want the entire world to know your mine just not the BDSM community."

Bethany's breath caught in her throat at the love in his gaze. "If you're sure that's what you want..."

He squeezed her a.s.s and pulled her closer to him. "If this weekend has proven anything, little one, it's that I don't like going to bed without you. I miss holding you all night, even when you rub that tempting a.s.s all over my d.i.c.k in your sleep."

A giggle escaped her. "I do not!"

"How do you know?" He arched a brow at her and thumbed one nipple. "You're sleeping."

Sensation lashed at her, then coursed from her nipple to her c.l.i.t, reminding her that she was sitting naked on the lap of 'her' dominant. A dominant who hadn't given her an o.r.g.a.s.m in nearly three days. She was h.o.r.n.y, d.a.m.nit!

"So about that punishment, Sir?" she reminded him.

"What about it?" He leaned in to lick at one tip of her breast, while squeezing the other between his thumb and forefinger with just enough pressure to have her squirming against him.

"Can we get on with it?" She panted. "I'm desperate here. You haven't touched me since Friday morning."

A wicked grin tugged at his lips. "Aw, does my submissive need to come?"

She flushed and nodded.

His gaze darkened. "Then give me the words." His free hand slid down her slightly rounded belly to delve between her thighs. "Ask me to make my little p.u.s.s.y come."

"Sir!" She arched against his palm as it grazed her c.l.i.t when he tested her wetness.

"The words, Bethany." His jaw clenched. "Or I'll keep you on edge for the rest of the morning."

"No!" Fear mixed with relief. Fear that he'd do as he promised, and relief that it was now her Dom who held her. "Please rub my c.l.i.t and make me come, Sir. I need it so bad!"

He growled lightly, as agile fingers circled the swollen nub. His strokes came fast and light, but not hard enough to bring her off. "Whose c.l.i.t is this?"

"Yours," she sobbed, her fingers tightening on the front of his shirt.

He rubbed faster, and just a bit harder. "That's right. You gave me this p.u.s.s.y..." his fingers teased the opening of her s.e.x, gathering her cream, only to return to her aching c.l.i.t. "and this c.l.i.t. It was made for my fingers, my lips, my tongue....was it not?"

"Yes, Sir!" Her hips rocked in time with his stroking fingers as she rode the edge of release.

"Then give me my o.r.g.a.s.m..." He squeezed her c.l.i.t between his thumb and forefinger, sending her flying over the edge. "Come for me, Bethany."

She screamed as pleasure exploded through her pelvis, while she writhed against the solid erection under her a.s.s. So lost in her own pleasure, she wasn't aware of him opening his jeans until she felt the blunt head of his erection pushing into her s.e.x.

"f.u.c.k." She clamped down on him, her p.u.s.s.y on fire for more. She lifted up, needing to ride him in tune with the wildfire burning through her, but he caught her hips in his palms.

"No. My way. I want to make love to this beautiful little body. To show you with my body how much I love you. I need to take my time - to savor every moment of your tight little p.u.s.s.y milking my c.o.c.k."

She groaned as he forced his will upon her. "You're going to kill me, Sir."

He gave her a wicked smile at the same time he gave a lazy roll of hips. She jerked as another wave of pleasure burst along her nerve endings. "Never, but you'll be too sated to complain. In fact, I'm going to take you so thoroughly you won't be able to do anything other than cling to me, by the time I'm done."

Her head dropped against his shoulder and she whimpered as he continued to push her higher. There was no doubt in her mind that her master would be true to his word. He spent the long morning hours, tenderly, repeatedly f.u.c.king her until she fell asleep in his arms.

Chapter Nineteen.

Three Weeks Later "Sir?" Bethany yawned around the word as she rolled off Deacon's couch. It'd been nearly two months since they'd found out that she was pregnant, and while they hadn't completely moved in together, Bethany found herself spending more and more time at Deacon's old farmhouse rather than her quaint ranch-style house.

"In here." Deacon's voice echoed down the hallway from his den - or man cave as she liked to call it. The only thing missing was a pool table - and that was actually in the renovated barn about a hundred feet from the house.

She wandered down the hall, her bare feet making little noise on the cool hardwood flooring. Just before she reached the door, she stripped off one of Deacon's comfortable cotton t-shirt and let it fall to the floor. Maybe she could interest him in a quickie before they headed to the club this afternoon. A smile tugged at her lips when her panties joined the shirt.

Perhaps a spanking when he realizes I raided his stash of goodies.

She gave one of the pilfered nipple clamps a quick flick. Both pain and pleasure surged through her system. She so loved the bite of the clamps and knew from past experience that she could easily come from having them tugged on.

Especially if my Dom would get the stick out of his a.s.s and do it. I won't f.u.c.king break from a little judiciously rough s.e.x. I'm pregnant - not dying.

She sighed in frustration. She truly loved Deacon, but ever since they'd made up from their huge fight, he'd acted like the too-perfect boyfriend. He'd gone to her doctor appointments, had made sure she had plenty of his mother's tea on hand for her d.a.m.ned morning sickness h.e.l.l, he'd even rubbed her aching feet at the end of her shifts at the bar.

Of course, the foot rubs are probably just a means to end. He wants me to set a date and figures I'll give in sooner than later if he proves he can be a good husband.

She should've felt cared for, but she didn't instead it approached 'smothering'. She enjoyed everything he did to her, but she missed her rough a.s.shole. So instead of giving him the answer he wanted, she made plans, plotted, even acted out...all in hopes of luring her master out of hiding. She let go of the clamp.

d.a.m.nit! Didn't he understand she needed him to be her Dom - to demand her submission and punish her when she didn't comply?

G.o.d, I'm so sick of him handling me with kid-gloves.

Which is why she'd concocted this latest stunt in hopes that seeing the result of her sneaky raid into his BDSM toys would remind Deacon she needed her master in his Dom role. She required for both her emotional as well as physical well-being that he continue as her Dom, just as much as she claimed him forever as her lover and future husband. "You ready to go?" Deacon appeared in the doorway. He froze, and for a second she saw the hunger in his gaze - before he disguised it. "Seems like you're rather underdressed for our outing, sweetheart."

She gave him a hesitant smile. "I was hoping to coax you into a little appetizer before we head out for the club." She boldly reached up and tugged on the clamp - moaning as the jolt of sensation traveled from her trapped nipple to her c.l.i.t.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Topping from the bottom, sub?"

Chewing on her lower lip, she shifted from one foot to the other. "I guess." She gave him what she hoped was a playful but pleading look. "It's been almost two months since we've played at Cattail." She shrugged her shoulders. "And what can I say. I miss my Master's touch."

"Your master is right here." He drew his hand up her arm. "Touching you. Holding you close every night."