Deacon (Unfinished Heroes #4)

by Kristen Ashley

  “Anyone who isn’t?”

  “Rapists. Murderers. Racists. Bigots. Hitler. Pol Pot—”

  I stopped when Deacon burst out laughing.

  Bossy started yapping.

  I grinned at my cereal, listening to Deacon laugh, doing this perhaps for the first time since I was a little kid feeling completely and utterly happy, but more, content, safe, and totally at peace.

  Deacon quit laughing and noted, “You’re lucky those last two are dead, Cassie. Means you won’t have to butt up against them when they try to rent a cabin.”

  “My man is a badass, they wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  He gave me the mouth grooves and eye crinkles and more warm and squishy when he replied, “Bullshit, you and me both know I’d just have to stand there while you took care of business.”

  I was preparing to jump him in order to share my feelings when a knock came at the door.

  Before I could make a move, Deacon did, putting his plate down and murmuring, “Got it.”

  And I jotted down another on my mile long list of good things that came with having Deacon. They were great and small. A small one being I could eat my cereal while he opened the door.

  Bossy, of course, followed her daddy. She liked her momma but she was definitely a daddy’s girl.

  I understood since I was too, now in more ways than just one.

  “John, hello. Cassidy said you’d be back. So good to see you.” I heard Milagros say from the foyer and I felt my brows draw together.

  We had two cabins—one with an over-nighter, one a short stay—both checking out and needing cleaning. Milagros knew that but when she came, she had a master key and usually got down to it, coming to me to say hey or share a coffee when she needed a break. She didn’t come to my house first.

  I put my cereal aside and started toward the kitchen door. I was halfway there when it was filled with Milagros and Araceli, Deacon trailing with Bossy tucked in the crook of his arm.

  But I stopped with one look at Araceli.

  “Baby, are you okay?” I asked.

  “Don’t feel good, Tía Cassidy,” she murmured.

  She could say that again. She looked pale but her cheeks were flushed and the deep pink was concerning.

  “She has a bit of a fever,” Milagros explained. “A bad belly. I know John’s just back, Cassidy, and I’m sorry to ask, but—”

  Before she could finish, or I could say a word, Deacon stated, “We got her.”

  My eyes flew to him.

  “I have a new client and I clean their house after the cabins. It’ll be hours,” Milagros said.

  “We got her,” Deacon repeated.

  God, I loved living on my warm, sweet, fluffy cloud.

  Deacon crouched in front of Araceli. “You wanna watch movies?”

  Bossy yapped her approval of this suggestion.

  And the cloud got fluffier and sweeter.

  Araceli nodded.

  “You like Sprite?” he went on.

  She nodded again.

  “Okay, girl. You and Bossy go lie down on the couch. Cassie will set you up with a movie. I’ll go to the store and get you some Sprite. You like vanilla wafers?”

  I stared at him, so warm and squishy it was a miracle I wasn’t goo on the floor, wondering if he was for real.

  “I like ’nilla wafers,” she whispered.

  “I’ll get some of those too,” Deacon told her. “Anything else?”

  She shook her head.

  “Right then, hit the couch, girl,” Deacon finished.

  “Can I call Tía Cassidy Cassie too?” she asked and Deacon looked to me.

  “Of course you can,” I said, moving forward as Deacon came out of his crouch. “Let’s get you settled.”

  Deacon shifted out of the way as I put a hand to Araceli’s shoulder and gently turned her toward the door.

  My eyes went to Milagros. “Got this, honey. You do what you have to do, take your time. We’re here when you’re done.”

  Her eyes underlined the words she said. “Thank you, Cassidy.” She looked to Deacon. “You too, John.”

  “Not a problem,” he rumbled.

  I threw a smile over my shoulder at Milagros and guided Araceli to my living room.

  We’d decided on a movie by the time Deacon walked Milagros out, went upstairs to get his keys and wallets, and came to us.

  “You need anything, woman?” he asked me.

  I threw a blanket over Araceli, my eyes to him.

  “No, honey.”

  He nodded, turned, and took off.

  Bossy tried and failed to jump up on the couch so I helped her. When she got where she wanted to be, she went about doing her best to sort Araceli out. This being bounding to her face and licking her cheek.

  Araceli giggled.

  I smiled.

  My little Boss Lady, she knew what she was doing.

  I bent deep, kissed Araceli’s temple, and told her, “Gotta go to the kitchen to clean up, baby. You need anything, yell.”

  “Okay, Tía Cassie.”

  I grinned at her, squeezed her arm, and watched my dog snuggle into the blanket at her belly while Araceli scratched her ruff.

  Then I went to the kitchen and I did it not even trying to stop myself from remembering all the goodness that came my way that morning.

  Why would I?

  When life offered you everything you ever wanted, you savored it.

  It was just that I savored it over finishing cereal and doing dishes.

  * * * * *

  Later that night, snuggled into Deacon on the couch, my back to his front, his arm around me holding me close, when he used the remote to turn to the news, I twisted my neck to catch his eyes.

  His head in his hand, elbow in the couch, he felt my gaze and tipped his to mine.

  “You were good with Araceli,” I noted, and he was. He didn’t hover. But he did check on her, bring her Sprite, corralled Bossy when she was getting too much, and for a while he even sat in an armchair and watched a Disney movie to keep her company.

  It was awesome.

  “Like kids,” he replied.

  Gleefully happy.

  I licked my lips.

  He watched then his eyes came to mine and I knew he again read me.

  “Want ’em, woman. Two, definitely, maybe three.”

  Oh yes.

  Gleefully happy.

  “Yeah?” I whispered.

  “Yeah,” he whispered back.

  I turned in his arm and pressed closer. Deacon reciprocated the gesture, taking me to my back, his length partly on me.

  “I want two, maybe three, too.”

  His eyes lit and he pressed closer. “Miracle.”

  That confused me.

  “Sorry?”

  “Somethin’ my Cassie Boss isn’t gonna fight about.”

  I grinned even as I lamely slapped his arm.

  He bent his head and brushed my lips with his before he lifted away and asked, “You gonna watch the news with me?”

  “I don’t watch the news, Deacon, because it’s not news. It’s televised depression.”

  He chuckled.

  “No, seriously,” I said.

  “Right,” he replied, still chuckling. “Then go on up. I’ll just watch the top and be up with you.”

  “Okay.”

  He gave me another brush on the lips before he took his weight from me.

  I rolled off the couch and strolled to the doorway.

  I stopped in it, unable to see Deacon where he was lounging on the couch.

  It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to see him. I figured he’d hear me.

  “Baby?” I called.

  “Right here,” his deep voice called back.

  Yes he was.

  Thank God.

  My voice dipped lower when I said, “When you come up, would you play with me?”

  Last night he’d given it to me vanilla. Or, more aptly, I’d given it to him since I rode him until he found i
t (after other things, of course; and I found it too, definitely).

  Now he’d had a good night’s rest and a day of nothing taxing, just taking care of a sick kid.

  I wanted to explore.

  The air in the room got heavy in a good way but he just ordered, “Be naked when I get there, Cassie.”

  “I will,” I said softly.

  Deacon didn’t reply.

  I didn’t need it.

  I was already on my way upstairs to get naked.

  * * * * *

  I felt the tip of the plug against my oiled opening and I strained toward it.

  I was tied to the bed by Deacon, a master at this, totally. A Deacon who, when he was gone did as promised, he bought me toys.

  I had velvet ropes around my knees, binding them wide but fast. Also at my ankles. More along my back, holding me down.

  And the best, one at my neck and ties bound to a scarf that held my head down and stationary, completely immobile.

  Except for the head thing (and Deacon’s position, which made this even better), this was exactly as the woman was bound in the picture I saw that started my yearning. And this was the position where Grant had hurt me.

  I was not hurting now.

  Proving his complete mastery, there was room to move, not much, until he positioned his big body under mine, hard cock in my face.

  Then he growled between my legs, “Mouth around my dick, Cassie.”

  I took his cock in my mouth and instantly felt the bed move as he somehow tightened the bonds so there was no give.

  I was at his mercy.

  That was when he played with me, getting me heated, before he oiled me, and I felt the plug.

  “Communicate with me,” he ordered roughly.

  I had no idea how I would do that, my mouth filled with his hard, thick, long cock, my body not at my will. I just knew however I managed it, he’d read it.

  I felt the tip of the plug pressed inside.

  God.

  Yes.

  I pushed my hips up as best I could to get more.

  He gave me more.

  “Good?” His word rumbled into my sex and the insides of my thighs quivered.

  I wrapped my tongue around his cock.

  He gave me more.

  But not enough. Not nearly.

  I was trembling against him and to tell him what I wanted, I sucked hard.

  “Jesus, baby,” he growled, approval and humor in his tone.

  I again did what I could to lift my hips against my bounds.

  He drove the plug inside.

  I moaned deep against his cock.

  “Fuck, better every fuckin’ day,” he grunted, his hands coming to my hips, he lifted up and started eating me.

  I took it, powerless to do anything else but hold his cock in my mouth, my ass filled, his mouth working me, hard, rough, greedy, hungry, demanding everything from me.

  I had no choice but to give it to him.

  And I loved that.

  I started whimpering against his cock then automatically sucking.

  I lost his mouth. “No,” he ordered gruffly, just that one word pounding into my sex.

  I didn’t want to but I wanted his mouth back so I stopped sucking.

  Deacon continued eating.

  I couldn’t help it, I started sucking again.

  I lost his mouth and felt the flat of his hand land sharp on the outside of my thigh. No one had ever spanked me and the sting made me tighten against the plug and my clit pulsed.

  “You want consequences?” he asked.

  I kind of did.

  I licked him lightly and let him make of that what he would.

  “Good girl,” he muttered, then went back to feeding.

  It got so good I couldn’t help it and again started desperately sucking his cock, pushing against my restraints in an ineffectual attempt to move my head up and down, my entire body tensing, preparing for the release he was building.

  I lost his mouth again and I also lost his cock as he slid out from under me.

  “No,” I whispered then felt the bed move and my body move as he tugged the ropes and I lost the room I gained when he moved from beneath me. Again I was immobile.

  “Consequences,” he rumbled then I felt the crack of his hand on my ass.

  I couldn’t jump, but I could moan, and I did.

  It came again, the plug up my ass making my spanking infinitely better, scoring fire straight to my clit.

  Then it came again and again until I was unsuccessfully rearing into each amazing blow.

  “My Cassie likes a red ass,” he muttered.

  “Yes.”

  He slid his fingers rough between my legs.

  “Yeah,” he growled. “Dripping.”

  “More, baby,” I begged.

  “No, woman, you worked me up, you take my cock now.”

  I did not protest.

  Slow and careful, he slid the plug out and I moaned when he did.

  It was barely gone before he drove inside my pussy.

  I whimpered.

  Deacon fucked me and he did it hard.

  Then I felt the crack of his hand on my thigh.

  “Clutch my dick,” he ordered, still thrusting.

  I tightened around him.

  “That’s it, Cassie,” he groaned, wrapped his fingers around my hips and held my already stationary body more stationary as he drilled me.

  I came first, crying out, my hands fisting, my toes curling, my body trembling.

  Deacon moved to mounting me, curled around my body, hand in the bed, his other hand went between my legs, finger at my clit.

  “Again,” he demanded.

  “Okay,” I gasped, still coming.

  He pressed and rolled and fucked me until I was making constant mews of pleasure I couldn’t even begin to stop.

  “Oh God, fuck me, Deacon. Harder, baby.”

  If I could have a coherent thought, I wouldn’t imagine he could do it.

  He did.

  I started keening.

  “Red ass, bound fixed, hole oiled, takin’ my cock, best you ever had, Cassie?” he grunted.

  “Best,” I moaned, “I ever,” I kept moaning. “Had.” I breathed then came, tensing so tight, I thought I would break apart.

  Deacon lifted up, smacked my thigh again, and demanded raspingly, “Fuck yeah, Cassie, clutch my dick.”

  I didn’t have to try; my pussy was doing it for me.

  “Fuck,” he grunted, pounded deep, and then I heard his disjointed groan of release as he kept taking me.

  I knew he was coming down when the thrusts gentled.

  I knew he was done when he slid out.

  I said nothing when I felt him leave the bed. Just stayed where I was because I had no choice, shivering happy shivers in the aftermath.

  He came back and gently cleaned me with a warm cloth.

  He left again.

  I waited.

  He returned and I felt his lips brush my ass and down my thigh. He bent low and kissed my sex. Then up on the other cheek of my ass.

  I did the only thing I could do, stayed completely still and gloried in his tenderness.

  I felt him position on his knees between my legs before I felt his hands roaming over my skin.

  I sighed.

  “You like this better than tied spread eagle?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes,” I answered quietly.

  “Can you tell me why?”

  “Saw a picture,” I whispered. “When I was seventeen. A woman in a magazine like this.”

  His hands kept moving light and sweet over my skin.

  “You liked it.”

  “Yes.”

  “I like it, too, baby. You right there like that for me, gorgeous.”

  My insides warmed.

  “The plug enough?”

  I didn’t understand his question.

  “Sorry?”

  He slid his hands to my hips, one thumb moving out to rest against my anus.
<
br />   “Took to your plug like your pussy takes my cock. Got that one. Got a bigger one.”

  My thighs quivered.

  He either sensed it or they did it visibly because he moved his hand, fingers whispering between my legs and I made a mew, it felt so hot, nice, and sweet.

  “She wants more,” he muttered.

  Suddenly, and for the first time, I felt not right.

  “I’m not weird.”

  The air in the room stilled before the bed moved and I felt his teeth sink into the tender cheek of my ass.

  He must have lifted because his voice came from above as his hand cupped my sex and he said, “Nothin’ is weird.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “You like a full ass while I play, that’s what you like. That’s it. It’s not weird.”

  “Okay, Deacon.”

  “You want it, Cassie, told you time and again, I’ll give it to you.”

  “Thank you, honey.”

  “Would love to keep you like this, make you wait, come back and play, but I want your arms around me for a while and then I want you to suck my dick vanilla.”

  That got me another thigh quiver.

  “You ready to be released?”

  “Whatever you want, honey.”

  That got me another brush of his lips across the cheek of my ass before he moved to release the bonds.

  It took a bit to work the kinks out but I did this as Deacon adjusted the covers from under us to over us. I kept doing it, stretching and arching, while he pulled me into his arms.

  Finally, I wrapped mine around him.

  “You good with me bein’ here three weeks?” he asked when I was settled.

  I was good with him being there forever. He might not know that, but he did know from the smile I gave him that morning that I was good for the three weeks.

  “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to, Deacon Deacon,” I answered.

  He chuckled.

  I settled into the sound.

  “You wanna know what all I bought you?” he went on.

  He got me more?

  I didn’t want to know. I wanted the surprise.

  “Surprise me,” I told his chest.

  “You got it,” he murmured, his hand sliding over my hip to my still heated ass. “This good?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  I heard the smile in his, “My Cassie likes to get spanked.”

  I figured he could feel my smile against his chest but I said nothing.

  Deacon fell into my silence.

  I cuddled closer.

  His hand eventually left my ass and curled me even closer when he asked quietly, “Those two, three babies?”