The Man Who Has No Love (Soulless Book 3)

by Victoria Quinn

  Oh man, I’d missed that cock.

  He hiked my leg up again and kept me pinned to the kitchen counter. My heels gave me the height I needed for him to squat down, shove him inside me, and then rise to his full height again, his cock fitting inside me just right.

  “Oh my fucking god…” I breathed against his mouth as I appreciated his thickness, that length, that large crown that always hurt on its way inside. I clung to him and breathed, getting used to him again because I hadn’t taken him so long. I’d been tight and dry without him. Now, he needed to stretch me out, make me looser, make me mold to him once more.

  He’d barely thrust inside me before he came, groaning against my mouth, his eyes on mine.

  I grabbed his hip and pulled him as deep as he could go, loving the heaviness of his seed, loving the fact that he couldn’t last more than a few seconds because it’d been so long since he’d had anyone…because I was the last.

  He stilled inside me, breathing hard, processing the climax that had taken him by surprise. His hand slid into my hair again, and he kissed me, his semihard dick reaching full mast once again in a few minutes. Then he was harder than he had been before, rock-hard, like he hadn’t just come minutes ago.

  I didn’t care that he’d come too quickly. It was hot, seeing evidence of his celibacy.

  He started to thrust again, giving it to me good and hard, his eyes locked on to mine.

  It was so good that it didn’t take me long to explode, screaming in his face while my nails sliced the skin at the back of his neck. “Yes…babe.”

  We ended up in the bedroom, our clothes breadcrumbs from the kitchen and down the hallway. The lights of the condo were off, the Manhattan lights bright, and we lay together on his king-sized bed.

  The bed I used to sleep in every night.

  Our reunion in the kitchen was a physical release for us both, a burst of emotional desire that made us screw like rabbits in spring. He couldn’t last long because it’d been a lifetime since he’d had me.

  But when we made it to the bedroom, it was nice and slow, his heavy body on top of mine, his kisses thorough and unhurried, his deep breath shaky. His hand fisted my hair, his eyes were locked on mine, and he moaned as he enjoyed me, as he gave me all of him for the first time in months.

  My hands cupped his face, and I kissed him, my knees hugging his narrow hips, feeling him thrust inside me over and over. When he took me back, it was so emotional that I felt like he’d left me all over again. I knew I loved him when I lost him, but I really knew it when I got him back. There was no one else in this world for me, no one besides Deacon Hamilton.

  He kissed me as he finished, his cock throbbing inside me with another deposit.

  My thighs squeezed him because it felt so good to do this again, to feel this physical connection, this powerful love between our souls. It healed me, sealed all the flesh wounds his rejection had caused.

  It’d been a long night, and he’d have to be inhuman to be able to keep going. I wrapped my legs around his waist and hugged him to my chest, not wanting to let him go, wanting to treasure the strong drumming of his beating heart, the smell of his hair, the way he felt when he was mine again. My forehead was pressed against his.

  He stayed on top of me, his eyes down and on my lips, his softening dick still inside me.

  “I love you…” I closed my eyes as I said it, feeling those words come from my heart instead of my lips. My arms were wrapped around his neck, and I felt a little like a child snuggling with a teddy bear.

  He pulled away slightly to kiss me on the forehead, his lips resting there for a while. “I love you too.” He rolled away from me, turning to his back on his bed, his body immediately softening once his muscles relaxed. His hand rested on his chest, and he closed his eyes, like he was physically exhausted and emotionally drained.

  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.

  Also by Victoria Quinn

  Valerie got between us just like I feared she would.

  And completely destroyed me.

  But I believe Deacon and I can make it work, that I can have the family I've always wanted...if I just have faith.

  Order Now