Free Freed by Stacey Kennedy Page A

soul.
    Those traits made her a submissive. And Elliott was a worthy Dom. What he’d done for her since she’d met him was bring quiet to her mind. More than anything, he reminded her of the woman she used to be.
    Elliott had honor. That was to be respected. He showed kindness when he didn’t need to. He was a man who kept true to his word, and a man who had simply taken care of her since she met him. As well as the reason she felt as serene as she did now.
    She pulled her foot away from his hand, and Elliott lifted his head. His mouth was parted, his eyelids were lowered, he was seemingly as relaxed as she, maybe even a little sleepy. What he had told her echoed in her ears,
“Do you really believe I would let you leave me with a hard cock that
has been tormenting me
since you walked into the room?”
    A statement somewhat made in jest, she was sure, but one she hadn’t forgotten. Moving toward him, she went onto her knees only to see the bulge in his pants. His low chuckle brushed across her, bringing forth a shiver.
    She lifted her head to him as he murmured, “Ah, darlin’. You want my cock, do you?”
    “I certainly do, sir,” she replied easily.
    His dark eyes held hers. “Why?”
    “Gratitude, sir.”
    An unreadable emotion crossed his face, and she wondered if maybe she had disappointed him with her answer. Perhaps he would’ve preferred her to say,
I want you.
While she was sexually attracted to Elliott, and even felt a powerful connection to him, her heart would always belong to Charles.
    Her submission was
his.
    That would never change.
    She also wanted to give something back to Elliott—maybe not all of herself, but at least the most that she could give. And who was she kidding, she was going to enjoy this, too—it had been a long time since she’d had a man’s penis in her mouth.
    Elliott moved off the bed and began to unbuckle his belt. She took the moment to admire his squared chest and the slight definition of his abdomen. Slowly, almost teasingly, he removed his pants and boxer briefs.
    When his cock sprang free, Mary couldn’t look away. He was much bigger than she expected by feeling him on the outside of his pants. Long and thick, his penis was beautiful. As he returned to the bed and sat back on his heels, he wrapped his hand around himself and groaned, stroking his hard cock.
    “This is what you want, Mary?” he asked huskily. “To touch me, just like this?”
    She licked her lips. “Yes, sir.”
    “Why?”
    The sun beamed across his bare chest, but she forced herself to hold his stare. “Gratefulness, sir.”
    His eyes narrowed on her. “Is that so?”
    Her breath caught in her throat as he seemingly reached right down into her soul. Her mind fought to give him the answer she knew he wanted. Though as she regarded him, all muscle and delicious man, her body buzzed with desire.
    Elliott, a man as powerful as he, caressing himself was a sight she couldn’t ignore. Wetness and warmth spread between her thighs, making her greedy for him. All thoughts vanished as her mind now zeroed in on his hand. Each stroke was her torture. She ached to touch him, taste him, and devour him.
    When he circled the tip of his cock, he grunted, and the masculine sound cut right through her and freed her mind. An urge to consume herself with his pleasure overtook her. To make Elliott’s grunts even louder…yeah, she wanted that. As another groan passed through his sculpted lips, he slid his hand down his thick shaft to the base.
    A harsh shiver cut through her.
    His gaze held hers, so wise and educated, and the smallest of smiles turned up the corner of his mouth. “Ah, now, there is the look of a woman who wants to fuck me.”
    She shifted on her knees, aching between her thighs. “I do, sir.”
    “Why?”
    Her gaze drifted from his heavy cock to his molten eyes. “You’re gorgeous, Elliott.”
    A low groan rumbled from his chest. “Tell me the real reason why you want to touch me now.” He slid