Deacon (Unfinished Heroes #4)

by Kristen Ashley

  It could have been bad. It could have felt distant. Like being used. Like nothing but a wet pussy, a vessel to receive his seed.

  It wasn’t that. Not with the way he was looking at me, taking in my face, his gaze roaming hot on my body.

  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he grunted.

  “Harder,” I begged.

  He slammed in harder.

  I closed my eyes. “Yes.”

  “Look at me.”

  I opened my eyes.

  “Watch me fuck you, baby, ’til you can’t watch anymore.”

  “Okay.”

  My knees jolted up as I watched Deacon, his big, magnificent body tensing and tightening, the muscles contracting, defined sharp in his beautiful flesh, up on his hands driving into me.

  Then it moved deep, terrifying in the forewarning of its power.

  “Deacon!” I gasped.

  “You gonna come hard for me?” he growled.

  “Baby,” I breathed and it happened, slamming through me as he drove inside, wiping everything away but the burn, his cock, the vision of him thrusting seared on the backs of my eyelids. I cried out as it engulfed me, carried me away, my arms and legs yanking against my bonds, taking the sensations deeper, blistering, scoring so deep I would never forget the exquisiteness I was experiencing.

  “Look at me.”

  His words penetrated but I was lost to the feelings, I could do nothing.

  Deacon pounded inside.

  “Fuckin’ look at me.”

  I forced my eyes open just in time to dazedly watch his head snap back, his neck muscles stand out, and hear him groan as he kept pounding inside and came for me.

  I had only started coming down when he slammed deep, ground in, and dropped his head.

  I knew he started coming down when he moved again, gently sliding in and out.

  I fought to steady my breathing.

  Deacon kept his head bent and continued to take me, slow and tender.

  “Could stay hard a year, watchin’ your pussy take my dick.”

  My arms jerked against the ropes at his words, longing to touch him, clutch at him, hold him to me at the same time loving that I couldn’t and all I could give him was my pussy.

  He lifted his head, caught my eyes, and slid in to the root.

  “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered.

  I stared at him, in all his big man magnificence, looming over me, giving me what he just gave me, taking my trust and making it so worth it that it wasn’t funny, still connected to me—thinking he could say that again.

  “You watch yourself take me next time you have my dick,” he ordered, his voice still thick from sex.

  “Okay, baby.”

  He dropped to one forearm, the other hand he put to my side where it glided up and in, cupping my breast and holding me there.

  My body relaxed underneath him.

  “You good?” he asked.

  I nodded, feeling my lips already curled up.

  He bent his head, ran his nose along my jaw, and lifted it again.

  “Comfortable?”

  I nodded again, still serenely smiling.

  “That worked for you,” he noted.

  “Uh-huh,” I mumbled.

  That was when his lips curled up. “It way worked for me.”

  I got that, big time.

  I didn’t have it in me to say anything.

  “You get it now, how it means something if the woman you’re drivin’ your dick into means something?”

  I’d got it before but I really got it then from what he gave me, what he took, and the look on his face that said exactly how he felt about it.

  I nodded.

  “You like it like this, Cassie, tie you to the bed, make you sleep that way. Wake you up and play whenever I feel like it.”

  My arms twitched, pulling at my bonds, sending a residual wave through me that felt so good, my sex tightened around his cock.

  He pressed his hips into mine.

  “She wants that.”

  “I think I might want whatever you wanna do to me,” I admitted, my voice quiet but not from fear or nerves at what I was giving him. Because I was so replete, I couldn’t talk louder.

  He dipped his head, brushed his lips against mine, and said there, “Then I’ll give it to you.”

  “Yippee,” I whispered and watched his eyes smile. “Am I gonna be able to tie you down?” I asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  I felt my eyes widen, thinking he’d decline. Gently, of course, but he’d do it.

  “Seriously?”

  He lifted his head half an inch. “Oh yeah, Cassie. Figure I give it to you enough, you’ll get good ideas. Rock my world.”

  Oh my God.

  Awesome.

  “No ass play,” he went on to state. “I like ass, I’ll take yours. Plug it. Fuck it. But that’s somethin’ you don’t do in return, but I reckon that’s the only thing.”

  The only thing?

  Oh. My. God.

  Awesome.

  “Have you, uh…tried that before? I mean, with your ass.”

  “Had a woman give me her finger while I was bangin’ her. No problem with that. She got off on it and I didn’t mind. You wanna give it, figure if I get that from you, I’ll probably like it. More than that, I’m just not interested.”

  I made a mental note of that.

  “See she’s planning,” he muttered, his eyes dancing.

  “Maybe.”

  He dipped his head again to give me another lip brush and said against my mouth, “Look forward to that.”

  I grinned at him but watched his face get serious and his voice was low when he asked, “Anything I did you didn’t like?”

  “Nothing,” I replied immediately.

  “Do not hide that shit, Cassie. It’s important I know.”

  I pressed my body up into his as best as I could when I said, “I know. I trusted you, you trust me. Honestly, do you think I wouldn’t tell you?”

  “Noticed you don’t have a problem speakin’ your mind.”

  I grinned again. “Nope.”

  “Also noticed you’re still bound, baby, and you haven’t asked me to untie you.”

  The way he said that sounded like it was important.

  “I—”

  “You’re good there,” he stated.

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind touching you, but you’re lying on me, so I guess I’m good.”

  He started chuckling, giving his humor to me in a variety of sensory ways, all of which I freaking adored.

  He dipped closer again but didn’t brush my lips. “Clean you tied, Cassie. I want you to give me that, exposed and bound for me as I take care of your pussy. Then I’ll untie you and we can sleep.”

  “I’ll give you that, honey.”

  He looked into my eyes and I had a feeling that was even more important, I just didn’t know how because all he said was, “Yeah.”

  Then he touched his mouth to mine, slid his cock out, and moved down my body, touching his lips to my breastbone, my midriff, my navel, the hair between my legs, and inside each thigh.

  That done, leaving me with the warmth that tenderness gave me, he rolled off the bed, came back with a warm washcloth, and looked into my eyes as he cleaned gently between my legs.

  I squirmed a bit, my lips parted, his eyes darkened, but after he “took care of my pussy,” he went back to the bathroom. Only then did he return to the bed and untie me.

  Commence Deacon repositioning me under the covers, rolling us this way and that to turn out both the lights. This was something I let him do without lip, seeing as I could turn out my own light. I was relishing being able to wrap my arms around him. Then he settled us in our customary going to sleep position.

  I listened to his breath even and I was relaxed, totally. Happy, completely. Fulfilled, undeniably.

  But I still could talk.

  “I loved that.”

  “Got that when you came hard and loud, nearly bowing the
headboard.”

  I grinned against his chest.

  My grin died and I pressed close, turning my head and kissing his skin.

  “Thank you for giving it to me,” I whispered there.

  His arm around me tightened in that way it did when he felt deep and wanted to communicate it to me. So tight, I almost felt pain.

  But this time, he added words.

  “The day you got me tied to this bed, Cassie, will be the day you understand that it’s me who should give the gratitude.”

  I liked that so much, to communicate it I pressed my face into his chest.

  He slid his hand up to wrap it around the back of my neck.

  “Sleep,” he ordered quietly.

  I turned my head to rest my cheek against his chest.

  “’Night, Deacon.”

  “’Night, my Cassie.”

  My Cassie.

  That was me. Deacon’s Cassie.

  I closed my eyes.

  Deacon moved his hand from my neck to wrap his arm around my back.

  Only then did I sleep.

  * * * * *

  The next day, I quit falling.

  The next day, I fell, landed, and knew deep in my heart with a landing so soft and sweet it felt like I’d been enveloped by a cloud, I’d landed right where I needed to be.

  In other words, the next day was the day when I realized I was in love with Deacon.

  It could have happened the night before with the way he made love to me. And make no mistake, he might have fucked me hard and rough while I was tied to my bed, but it was making love.

  However, I was too overwhelmed by the experience to process it at the time.

  I was far more alert the next day when we walked into the house of the dog breeder, the man opened a door, and five baby German Shepherds bounded out.

  They raced right to Deacon and me but they switched paths quickly because it was Deacon who crouched first.

  I watched, standing still, attention fixed completely as it appeared my man was trying to pet all five at once with his big hands.

  Then it happened.

  A little girl puppy got peeved, started nosing her brothers and sisters, yapping at them, doing her puppy best to push them where she wanted them, miraculously got her opening, and jumped up, clawing Deacon’s jeans at his knee.

  “Boss lady,” I heard Deacon murmur as I belatedly crouched too. The rest of the puppies galloped my way when Deacon’s hands wrapped around the girl puppy and he lifted her to his chest.

  I did my best to stroke and scratch the gaggle of pups that were climbing about my legs, but I did this with my eyes to Deacon, watching the dog lick his jaw and not stop.

  He looked to me.

  “This one,” he decreed.

  Absolutely.

  That one.

  “Boss Lady,” he stated.

  Absolutely.

  That was her name.

  There was intensity in his eyes that tightened my stomach just like you feel right before going over the crest of a very tall climb on a roller coaster, loving where you are, excited about it, but you can’t wait to see what happens next.

  “Boss Lady for my Cassie Boss,” he finished.

  “Okay, honey,” I whispered, unable to make my voice louder.

  The pup stopped licking him and started yapping.

  Deacon straightened.

  She stopped yapping. This was because she got what she wanted. I knew this when she started licking him again.

  Deacon didn’t stop her.

  And that soft, sweet cloud wrapped closer around me.

  * * * * *

  Two weeks later, I stood at the top of the steps of my porch, Bossy in my arms squirming, Deacon a step down, arms around both of us, making out with me.

  I didn’t want it to end. Ever.

  He ended it.

  “Be back, soon’s I can,” he said gently.

  “Okay, honey.”

  “Okay.”

  He touched his forehead to mine and moved one hand to my neck, fingertips back and in my hair, then he gave me a squeeze.

  I drew in breath.

  He let me go, scratched Bossy’s head, and she yapped.

  He grinned.

  I let my breath go.

  His eyes came to mine and I smiled.

  I kept smiling as he walked down the steps and got into his Suburban.

  Bossy and I stood there as he started it up and drove down the lane, me waving, Bossy yapping.

  Deacon turned right at the top of the lane.

  Only then did my smile fade. I walked Bossy into the house, closing the door behind us.

  I put my pup on the floor and Bossy yapped.

  “He’ll be back, darlin’.”

  She yapped again, unhappy.

  She was not alone.

  But he would be back.

  And one day, one day I hoped was soon, he’d be back in a way he’d never leave.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Miracle

  “He’s here,” I whispered, eyes to the window, watching the headlights gleam through the dark on my lane.

  Bossy yapped.

  I ran to the front door, stopped, and toed my baby back. “I get my reunion first.”

  She protested by trying to attack the strap of my flip-flop.

  I gently fended her off and quickly slipped through the door.

  I walked to the top of the steps and stopped, my heart beating hard as I watched Deacon unfold from the driver’s seat. Then I watched him walk to me.

  When he was at the bottom of the steps, I asked, “Did you eat?”

  His eyes were on mine. Then again, they had been since he got out of his truck.

  “Welcome to check the cab after you fuck me hard and I crash, woman. Chip bags and shit all over. Evidence.”

  He stopped one step down from me.

  “I take it, you needing to crash, you didn’t sleep,” I noted.

  He grinned at me.

  He didn’t sleep.

  Whatever.

  I leaped into his arms.

  His hands at my ass, my arms and legs around him, we kissed as he walked us into the house.

  A week and a half, nothing but phone calls (these Deacon returned, if he didn’t answer right away). Then the call, the good call that said he was on his way home.

  He used his boot to close the door and Bossy’s excited puppy demands came fast and furious.

  Deacon broke our clinch to look down at our dog.

  “Yo, Boss Lady.”

  Bossy yapped.

  His fingers pressed into my ass and I took that as a sign to let him go. When he put me to my feet, he bent, scooped up Bossy, and gave her a cuddle.

  I smiled gleefully. Bossy licked his jaw gleefully.

  That gave me more glee.

  His eyes came to me.

  “I put her in her crate; you go upstairs and get naked.”

  I stopped smiling when my thighs started quivering.

  “Now, Cassie,” he ordered gently.

  I nodded, turned, and dashed up the stairs.

  I was naked by the time Deacon joined me.

  Boss Lady didn’t have a great night, cooped up in her kennel with Daddy just home.

  But Deacon was back.

  So mine was awesome.

  * * * * *

  “I’m unavailable,” Deacon said into his phone the next morning while standing at the stove, shuffling bacon in a skillet, Bossy attacking the hem of his jeans. “At least three weeks.”

  At least three weeks.

  Yippee.

  I was pouring cereal and listening, mostly because Deacon wasn’t hiding this call, like he didn’t hide the call that took him away from me a week and a half ago.

  I liked this. This was open, not covert, hiding, keeping things from me. No, this was Deacon giving himself to me.

  Yes, I liked this.

  I put the cereal box back and went for the milk.

  “You need someone, call Raid and
his team,” he continued.

  Raid?

  I poured milk.

  “Told you before, they’re solid. You need this done, you call them. Got nothin’ more for you. I got somethin’ on that’s priority.”

  Priority.

  That made me feel warm and squishy.

  “You got his number,” Deacon finished, disconnecting, and tossing his phone on the counter. “Gotta bury that in a drawer,” he muttered like he was talking to himself.

  “I have you for three weeks?” I asked, putting the milk back.

  “At least,” he answered.

  I turned from the fridge and smiled big at him.

  The grooves hit the sides of his mouth and he looked down at the skillet.

  Bossy started growling. I looked to her and saw she’d found purchase on Deacon’s jeans and was tugging back with puppy viciousness.

  Deacon ignored her.

  More warm and squishy.

  I grabbed a spoon, picked up my bowl, put a hip to the counter, and started eating.

  After bite three, when Deacon was transferring bacon to a plate covered in paper towels, I asked, “Who’s Raid?”

  I got warmer and squishier when Deacon’s response was immediate.

  “Colleague. Friend.” His eyes came to mine. “One of the three decent people I’ve spent time with in the last decade. One of the handful I’d trust knowin’ you.”

  That surprised me.

  “Knowing me?”

  “When I leave that life, Raid is one of three I won’t leave behind.”

  Oh my God. I might meet his friends!

  I tamped down my excitement at this and remarked casually, “A close bud.”

  “A good man, and yeah, a close bud.”

  I drew in a breath to give myself courage to take a risk. Then I took it.

  “Who are the other two?”

  Again, Deacon answered immediately. “Knight Sebring. Marcus Sloan.” He moved his attention to the skillet where his eggs were waiting and muttered, “And maybe Tucker and Sylvie Creed.”

  “Tucker and Sylvie?” I prompted.

  He slid his eggs on a waiting plate and looked to me. “Don’t know them well, know Sylvie better, seein’ as she worked with Knight before she got herself hitched to Creed, but did a job with them a while back, and what I know, they seem solid.”

  I nodded and cautiously offered, “They’re all welcome at Glacier Lily.”

  He tossed his bacon on the plate, nabbed the waiting fork, and turned to me, hip to the counter, grinning at me.