by Mandi Beck
Her hands flutter over my abs, then around to run up my back, effectively making me shudder. “So you brought me down here to the basement to have your wicked way with me? Is that right? Up against the Cage?” She follows her line of questioning up with light kisses against my chest, my bicep, wherever she can reach as I tower over her.
I wish I could say that she was wrong, that I called her down her for something other than to dirty her up, but I didn’t. I had every intention of fucking her in this Cage, just like I said I would and never had the chance to. “Remember that bet? It was months ago, and it’s time to pay up, Princess,” I tell her. She looks up at me through heavy lids.
“I thought that you forgot all about that. It’s not like you to wait so long to call in a bet.”
“Oh, trust I didn’t forget. Just waiting for the perfect time to collect,” I say as I lower my head to nip at her lip. Frankie opens her mouth to allow me access. I don’t take it. Instead I pull her farther into the Cage, dancing us backwards until the gate slams shut with a soft clang. “You’re in my house now, baby. It’s all about my rules here.” Winking, I settle both my hands on her ass, squeezing and kneading through the puffy material of her skirt as I watch her thoughts play across her face. First the want, then the worry, then the want again. “I’m not sure what you’re worried about, but you can lock that shit up, Princess. It’s just you and me here, and I want you wrapped around me, sooner rather than later. So no worrying, you feel me?”
She looks at me a little surprised that I could read her so well though I don’t understand why. I’ve always been able to. She’s like an open book to me most days.
Frankie smiles that smile at me, the one that pulls me in, consumes me, gives and takes, and it’s all the invitation I need. My hand tangles in her long hair. I yank gently, pulling her head back so that she’s arched, her tits pushed forward and her neck exposed. The pulse fluttering against smooth skin as inviting as her smile. My mouth makes its way to that spot, gliding over the elegant lines of her throat, my tongue tasting the salt on her skin. Lips pressed to her neck, I make it to where it meets her shoulder and bite, eliciting a low moan from Frankie. It always gets a reaction. My favorite kind of reaction.
I find my way to the plunging vee of her top and place an open-mouthed kiss to the tops of each rounded globe. Running my nose along the edges, I nudge the material out of the way until one of her creamy tits is free. My mouth closes around the dark pink nipple. Releasing it slowly, I turn my face and do the same with the other side. Now that both of her tits are uncovered, I take my time laving over each, sucking as much into my mouth as I can. Her hands are resting on my forearms, fingernails biting into the skin. The pain fueling my need to be inside her. I drag callused fingertips over her exposed back, under the skirt she’s trying to kill me with, until I hit the crease of her ass tracing the line under the cheek at the top of her thigh before lifting her. My mouth never once leaves her flushed skin. Dipping inward, I rub against her pussy as she wraps her legs around me, locking her ankles at the small of my back, pressing us tighter together. My shorts are no match for my cock, straining against the thin nylon material. Her head thrown back, she moans softly.
“God, I’ve missed you so much, missed your hands and mouth on me. The way you make me feel,” she says, hips rolling in a sensual pattern, my cock jerking against her ass as she does. “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me against the Cage, Deac. Show me how much you missed me.”
Growling around the nipple in my mouth, I release it with a pop, “I’ll fuck you, Frankie. I’ll show you everything, baby, but it won’t be against the Cage.” My gaze touches on every bit of her exposed to me. “Nah, there’s no way I’ll let the Cage leave its mark on you,” I tell her as I stalk to the coated chain link and lean so that it’s my back against it, my skin that will be left wearing the indentations our fucking will definitely make.
“Wrap your arms around me and hold on, Princess.” Once she does, I let go of her and yank down my shorts and boxer briefs, my cock surging forward like it’s searching for her. She has a tie at her hip that she tugs on, her skirt falling open completely before it drifts to the mat, leaving her in nothing but the tiniest scrap of lace and the little black top that might as well be on the floor too since it’s doing nothing to cover her. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that? Abso-fucking-lutely perfect.” With her hands wrapped around my shoulders and her legs around my waist, I’m able to let go. I settle her a little lower on my hips so that I can easily slip a hand in between us. Palm flat, I push back on her chest gently, forcing her to lean back just a little. Dragging one finger up and down the seam of her panties, over her clit and back down, I can feel how wet she is. Pushing the lace into her wetness, I allow one more pass over her clit before snagging my finger in the lace keeping me out of the pussy I want into so badly. With a yank, my finger rips through the fragile material. I work my fingers inside the tear and widen them until I’ve created crotchless panties. “There it is. There’s that sweet pussy I love so much,” I tell her with a wicked grin. Frankie doesn’t wait for direction from me as she lifts herself so that my cock is between us. Rubbing against it, her head falls forward, resting against mine as she teases us both.
“You’re so fucking wet, my cock is so fucking wet . . . from you,” I tell her just before I catch her hips and thrust into her hard and high, her breath catching. “You wanna keep teasing me, Princess, or you wanna fuck me?” I growl as I work myself inside of her even further, the head of my cock bumping against the walls of her pussy. Her hands shoot up to grab onto the chain link over my shoulders, giving her a better hold. Using her legs and her grip, she raises herself up almost completely and then slams back down. Both of us moaning in unison.
“I heard about pregnant pussy being the best pussy and didn’t believe it, but they were right. Jesus fuck, they were right. Put it on me, Frankie,” I murmur through gritted teeth as she pulses around me in waves. She uses the Cage as leverage as she bounces on my cock, each time taking me deeper than the last. I bury my face in her tits. Nipping and licking, sucking and biting in a state of desperation. It’s almost too much, what I feel. What she’s doing to me and where we are all adding to my heightened senses.
Sliding my hands under her ass, I hold her suspended away from me, just the tip of my cock being squeezed as I pull out, waiting until her blues land on me. Once she’s looking into my eyes, I slide back in to the base, over and over, fucking her as she clings to me, completely trusting, completely open. I feel her tightening around me, tensing in my arms, telling me that she’s close. Frankie’s head lolls back on her shoulders, her long hair swaying against her back. Feathering over my hands gripping her ass. Her mouth falls open, my name leaving it on a breathless whimper that grows in volume as she falls apart, her pussy like a vise around my cock, the pulsating grip almost painful.
“That’s it, baby, you know what I want,” I grunt as I fight off my own orgasm. Moving her slowly now, I allow her to ride it out and give myself a chance to regain some control. I wasn’t lying—pregnant pussy is a beautiful fucking thing. She’s tighter, if that’s even possible. I thought so before, but figured it was because we hadn’t been together in awhile. She’s more responsive to the slightest movement it seems. It’s making it nearly impossible to keep from losing my shit right now. Frankie leans back in my arms, her hands at my nape, tangling in my hair, and looks to where we’re joined. She wants a show, I’ll give her one. With a tight hold on her hips, I pull out, the shaft of my cock glistening with her come. “Mmmmmm, you see that, Princess?” I ask, my voice pitched low.
“Tell me, Deac,” Frankie whispers and I know what she needs. Slamming her down to meet my thrust, I pull back again, her eyes still locked on our bodies.
“Look at us,” I tell her as I glide in and then back out. “That’s you all over me. Only you, baby. Only me. Only us.” Crashing her onto me again, I feel my release start at the base of my spine as it grabs a hold of my
balls. My hands tighten on her hips as I push her away again. “No one else, ever again. That’s a fucking promise.” My words turn into a long drawn out groan as I pump into her faster, harder, chasing after my orgasm. Frankie’s grip on my hair tightens as she meets my every demand on her body. With one final thrust I let go, shuddering with the intensity behind it.
After a minute of just circling my hips, pressing her down on me, she breaks the silence, “Oh my God, you can put me down now. I have to be getting heavy.”
Scoffing, I smirk at her, eyebrow raised in amusement. “Why do you think I’m in the gym throwing weights around all the time?”
“Hmmm, because it’s your job!” she rasps out on a throaty laugh.
“Well, there’s that, but I do it mostly so that I can fuck you standing up,” I tease. “Gotta stay strong for my girl and her voracious sexual appetite and her wall, or in this case, Cage, fetish.” Biting back a laugh, I slap her ass.
“Ha! My wall fetish? You’re the one who has never passed a wall you didn’t want me pinned against,” she huffs.
“Can’t argue with that, Princess.” I shoot her a wink and run my hands from her waist to her ankles. Unlocking them from behind my back so that I can put her down. Frankie makes sure to slide down so that every inch of her rubs up against me. It’s the sweetest fucking torture. “You’re evil, you know that, right? How can something so small and angelic be so damn mean?” I duck my head and smother my smile in her neck, raining kisses on her.
“Come on, mean girl, let me get you dressed so that we can get you home and clean you up.” Bending, I pull my shorts and boxer briefs up with a tug before bending to snag her gray ballerina skirt off the mat. “No bra?” I ask. Watching as she tucks her tits back into her top.
“This is a bra. A sports bra. You texted me just as I was getting in the shower so I just threw my skirt back on and came down here.”
“Yeah, you did.” I smirk, nodding my head in agreement.
Frankie lets loose a laugh and smacks me on the chest. “You’re impossible. Take me home and bathe me, you animal,” she says, still laughing.
“What’s gonna happen if I get you in the shower?”
Walking to the door of the Cage, she looks back at me over her shoulder, her skin still flushed, her hair a wild, just-fucked mess. “I’m gonna get fucked,” Frankie says throatily.
“Yes. You. Are.”
“Deacon, where the fuck are you? Why does one person need a house this fucking big?” Indie yells, her voice echoing around the front entryway.
“Who the hell let your loud ass in?” I ask, coming up behind her.
“I don’t need to be let in; Frankie gave me the code.” The smug smile stretching across her face leads me to believe she’s telling the truth.
“Good to know; I’ll change it tomorrow.” Turning, I head back up the stairs to finish getting ready. We’re doing our birthday dinner tonight even though our birthdays aren’t until next week. This was the only time that the whole family is in town.
“Go ahead, she’ll just give it to me again. Maybe we’ll change it so you can’t get in!”
I spin on the stair, almost knocking her down since she’s following so close behind me. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.” She just looks at me and does that slow blink shit without saying anything. “Yeah, you totally would.” Shaking my head in mock disgust, I turn and continue to my room, Indie still on my ass. “Why are you here? Frankie is with Sonny. Isn’t there someone else for you to aggravate?”
“Oh, fuck off, cranky pants. I was just stopping by to make sure you picked up her gift and that you knew where you were going.” Indie flops on the bed as I walk over to my dresser.
Watch in hand, I look at her in the mirror, fastening the clasp. “Of course I got her gift. I’ve had it for days.” I can tell that isn’t all she wants. What is it with people popping up here uninvited and being all cagey and shit? “What’s up, Jones? Everything okay? You’re not being followed or threatened, right?” It’s easy for me to forget that she could be in danger too.
“No. God, no. Nothing like that. I would tell you guys. I’m not about to fuck around and get killed over Drew’s dumb ass,” she tells me with utter certainty. “So a baby, huh?”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re subtle as fuck?” I ask, chuckling.
Indie shrugs her shoulders, making the ink there dance. “Yeah, subtlety not one of my strong suits. So, a baby. I’m not gonna lie, I’m not surprised. You are a total Neanderthal and even more so when it comes to Frankie. You, like, ooze testosterone. You probably knocked her up just by looking at her.” My eyebrows kick up with the dubious look I throw her way. “Whatever. You know what I mean,” she huffs out. “Anyway, I’m glad that you didn’t let her run away with Cristiano to Spain.” Indie raises a hand to stop me from speaking. Probably a good thing because I was about to unleash on her ass. “I like him, don’t get me wrong. He loves her, and although he comes off as a self-centered, somewhat skeevy douche, he’s really not bad, and like I said, he loves her. He just can’t love her like you do, and she for damn sure doesn’t feel the same about him.”
She takes a breath and I cut in, “Why the fuck are you rambling? You don’t ramble. Just go ahead and hand me my balls so that we can go, yeah?” Turning away from the mirror to face her, I roll the sleeves of my white dress shirt up my forearms and wait her out.
“I just—I’m happy that she didn’t go, and that if she’s having a baby, she’s having it with you. All the way. And not with Flashdance pulling her in the other direction.”
I can in no way hide the smile fighting to break through. “I’m sorry, Jones. Are you trying to say that you like me? Maybe even love me? Or am I being Punk’d?” Smothering my laugh with a cough, “Is Ashton gonna pop out at me any minute?” I pull open the closet door and pretend to look for the show host.
“Oh, go fuck yourself, Deacon. I just came by here to congratulate you and ask you to not be an ass for once in your life and take care of my friend, and you have to be a total dick about it,” Indie says, completely disgusted with me now. She hops off the bed and shoves me out of her way as she goes to leave.
“Awwwww, Jones don’t be like that. I’m just not used to you saying nice things to me and it threw me.” Before I follow after her sourpuss ass, I snatch my keys, wallet, and gift bag from the dresser. Indie is just making her way out the front door when I catch up to her. “Can I ride with you or am I not allowed in your car?” I joke.
“You’re not allowed in my car. I’d rather stab myself in the face than ride with you.” I would say that she’s joking, only she’s in her car already backing down the drive, her arm thrust out the window flipping me the bird.
“You said you love me! I won’t forget that shit!” I yell out as I watch her whip her little Mini Cooper out of sight. “Crazy bitch. Why does my girl have to find the craziest chick in Chicago to be friends with?” I mumble as I make my way to the garage.
Finally making it to RPM, Frankie’s favorite restaurant in the city, I hand the Rover over to the valet and make my way in, stopping at the hostess stand to let her take me to our table. The Princess wanted to do something with just the family, totally fine by me. It feels odd not throwing her a big party though.
Frankie and I got with Indie and planned this dinner a week before either of our birthdays, since it’s playoff hockey season and there’s a home game on both of our birthdays. Not even a birthday party for Frankie can interrupt playoff hockey, and the beauty behind that is she totally agrees. Gotta love a woman who understands what the priorities of life are, and that hockey is right at the top.
When I reach our table, I see that I’m the last one to arrive. My eyes lock on Frankie immediately, sitting next to Sonny, talking animatedly while everyone laughs around her. She has her hair down tonight in soft waves that flow over her shoulders. I love her hair. I love wrapping my fist in it and pulling. I love the way it drapes over me when she lies across my chest in
bed. I love the way it tickles my thighs when she has her lips wrapped around my cock.
“Ahemmmm!” I turn away from the sight that is my girl, and my filthy thoughts, when Indie clears her throat. “You want to sit down or are you gonna just stand there and be all stalkerish?” she asks, still clearly pissed at me. Instead of going straight to the empty chair next to Frankie, my seat, I head for Indie, slapping the backs of my brother, Reggie, and Pop as I make my way. When I finally reach her, she looks up at me through squinty, I-wanna-junk-punch-you eyes. Bending, I whisper in her ear so that only she can hear me, ignoring the questioning stares from everyone at the table. “I’m sorry I poked fun at you earlier. Thank you for caring and thank you for looking out for my girl. I promise to not be an ass and to always, always take care of her. If not, I give you permission to kick my ass. You can even get Mav to help.” I press a kiss to her head because I really am grateful, and straighten, ending the debacle we’ve made by being pleasant to one another for a change.
Halfway to my seat, Indie stops me by saying—loudly—“I’m sorry for being cunty.” I throw her a smile as Guy mutters under his breath in Italian, Mav, with eyes squeezed tight just shakes his head, and the Princess lets out a giggle. That’s the most sincere apology I’ll ever get from Jones and we all know it.
Sliding in next to the Princess, she raises her eyebrows in question, and shrugging my shoulders, I grab up her hand and place a kiss to my spot. “You look gorgeous,” I tell her, placing her hand on my thigh and lacing our fingers. I pick up the menu briefly before putting it back down. I always order the same thing when we come here—the Porterhouse that’s supposed to serve up to like four people or some shit, and then I finish whatever pasta Frankie gets.
All throughout dinner, the talk at the table alternates between hockey, the fight, and of course, the baby. It’s been made clear that Guy wants to have a talk with me about the whole thing. He may love me like a son, but this is his daughter. His only daughter, and he’s old school Italian. You don’t just go around living in sin in his world. I’m hoping that I can put him at ease a little with her gift tonight though.