Deliver (Deliver, #1)

by Pam Godwin

She was stolen innocence, following the rules of monsters. Somewhere along the way, she’d become one.

She didn’t want him ogling at her. She didn’t want him. How could she? His kisses haunted her, the grip of his voice too painfully familiar in the dark. He was the cause of those tears, those screams, her fears.

Beneath a different man, in another life, she might’ve sang with a passion to match the intimate connection. With Van, she was a cold voice in a warm embrace, her pussy an entity of its own. The needy slit existed objectively, disciplined to accept and serve. She sang from that carnal place of flesh and superficial appetite. The place where emotions didn’t dwell.

She was a demon in the form of the most beautiful girl on earth. If he peered into her liquid brown eyes, he might’ve found the cruelest corners of the world there.

He represented purity, beauty, family, all of the things that had been taken from her. He was a glimmer of goodness in her dark fucking world, a warm spark she could hold, if only for a fleeting span of time.

The water ran red, but no amount of cleaning would remove the evidence that she was just as much a prisoner as the ones in chains.

“Better to be enchained with someone on your side,” he said, “than to be alone with a false sense of freedom.”

“We may not be trapped for the same reason, but we’re looking in the same direction, reaching beyond these walls together. Tell me what we’re up against.”

He lowered his arms, nudging her chin with his bound hands. “I love your smile.”

He stared at her with such intensity she closed her eyes against it. He was the only person who had ever tried to peek beneath her masks, and damn her, she wanted him to find what he was searching for.

They stared at one another, faces just a kiss apart, and it was the most intimate moment she ever experienced. As he looked at her, the pale glow of his eyes softening, asking without words, Is this okay?

“The devil with the voice and heart of an angel.” He buried his nose in the soft damp strands of her hair. “I want you so damned much,

“When it’s just you and me, lose all those guarded layers. Let me see you.” He raised up on his elbow and strained his eyes through the dark to make out the outline of her face. “Don’t hide this from me.” He tapped the spot over her heart.

“Don’t make me feel things for you.” Her voice rattled. “It will end badly.”

He was the soul of bravery wrapped in chains. He would never fall, no matter how much metal weighted him down. He was a man who loved selflessly and honestly, and she was taking him to a monster who would slice him open and fuck the incision.

“Gives me chills, Liv. Every damned time. Your beauty isn’t just an experience for the eyes. It breathes through the ears and evokes a reaction so consummating it claims the soul.”

“I can feel you.” He leaned back, inhaled deeply. “Inside me. Everywhere. You own me. You will always own me, and I will walk through hell to keep it that way.”

He was consumed with having her and terrified to lose her.

“I stand here without rope or chains, Liv, tethered to you by my own will.” His blood beat with the ferocity of his words. “I won’t be free until you are.”

“I never thought…” She drew in a deep breath, tightening her hold on the back of his head. “This tenderness...you and me...” She blinked rapidly, her inhale hitching. “This is an intimacy I never thought I’d experience.”

“I see all of you.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her temple. “I claim every jagged piece of you.”

“I freed you. For you.” His feet dug in, his arms caging her against the door. He put his face in hers and stared directly into her eyes. “And I will free you. From you.”

“I would’ve missed your smile, how it lifts your eyes and rounds your cheeks. And your voice. God, Liv, your voice is so mystical and arousing. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” He pinched the note between his fingers, loathing its purpose, feeling its strength. “I would’ve missed your kiss, that incomparable connection when your lips brush mine. But most of all, I would’ve missed our future together, the one you would’ve taken from us.” He turned in the seat to face her. “You said you freed me, but freedom isn’t defined by chains or walls. You, alive, with me. That’s my freedom.”

She didn’t have to see his eyes to know what was behind them. He was once a captive in her attic. Now she was the one held captive, enraptured by his unwavering trust.

Nothing compared to the freedom of floating in his arms. He would say the hand of God was holding them up, delivering them. She called it love. Her heart didn’t fall. It flew.