The Man Who Has No Love (Soulless 3)

I stared at him, finding him to be the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

It wasn’t just his handsome features, his hard jawline, those coffee-colored eyes, that rock-hard body. It was everything beneath the skin, like his good heart, his compassionate soul, the infinite good qualities that made him so perfect.

And now he was mine.

He would always be mine.

If we could make it through this, we could make it through anything, and I knew his feelings would never change spontaneously. He wouldn’t wake up one day and get tired of me. He wouldn’t meet a woman on the street and realize he preferred her to me. The worst part was over, and now it would be easy from here on out.

I just had to enjoy it…and let my heart heal.

Deacon immediately fell asleep, his breathing changing within minutes.

It’d been so long since I’d slept with him, but I recognized it instantly, as if no time had passed.

I wanted to stay there until morning. I wanted to move my things from my bedroom into his closet. As if nothing had happened, I wanted to go back to exactly what we used to be.

But that might be too fast.

As much as I wanted to stay in his bed, I knew I should leave. I didn’t want to smother him with too much, not when he’d said he wanted to take things slow. So, I pulled the sheets back and slowly slid out of bed, careful not to wake him. My clothes were in the kitchen, so buck naked, I tiptoed out of his bedroom to the hallway.

“What are you doing?” His deep voice was clear, like he was wide awake, like he’d never had a chance to fall into a deep sleep because I disturbed him so quickly.

I turned back around, seeing him sitting up in bed, his hair messy, his eyes squinting with accusation.

He lay down again and patted the empty space beside him.

I came back to the bed and sat at the edge of it. “I just thought you would—”

He grabbed me by the forearm and tugged me into bed. “Get your ass in here.”

I let him pull me, my body offering no resistance because I hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place. I just wanted him to be comfortable, wanted to do the right thing to keep this relationship going in the right direction.

His muscular arm wrapped around my waist, and he dragged me into his chest, his head resting against the back of my neck, his nose in my hair. He pulled the sheets on top of us, tugged me a little closer, and then went still.

My arm moved over his on my stomach, and I felt the smile spread subtly across my lips. This was what I wanted more than anything, more than sex. I wanted this…us. I wanted to be back like this again…just like this.

It felt like home.

He felt like home.