Deacon Page 60

It was simple beauty.

And I was loving every second.

Finally, he moved fully between my legs and clamped his mouth down on me, sucking deep.

“God!” I cried, surging up as far as I could, exhilaration sweeping through me when I was pulled back against my bonds, the pleasure heightened indescribably because I couldn’t lift my knees high, throw them over his shoulders. I could only lie there and take what he was giving me.

He ate and he sucked and he fucked me with his tongue. When I was writhing on the bed, straining against the ropes, this close to exploding, he took his mouth from me, drove two fingers in, and my entire body bucked, the bed moving with it.

I lifted my head to see him still between my legs. “Baby,” I begged.

He slid his fingers out and down, and wet with me, circled one at my anus.

My frame tensed tight, my knees involuntarily trying to cock and stilling when my motion was denied, the bed jerking again as all my limbs tightened, and I did what I could to press into his finger.

“Yes,” I breathed and watched hazily as Deacon’s face grew even darker.

He surged over me but left his finger where it was.

“Please,” I breathed.

He slid his finger inside.

I turned my head to the side, my body trembling, waiting, anticipating.

Deacon put his lips to my ear.

“Next job, I’m goin’ shopping on the way back,” he whispered there, gently moving his finger in small circles inside me and my legs pulled tight against the ropes, reflexively trying to open further for him. “Get my girl some toys. Come back to her, plug her ass, eat her pussy while she’s tied down with my cock in her mouth.”

I jerked my head around, my sex pulsing deep with need. He lifted his head when I did and I caught his eyes.

“Fuck me.”

“You need my cock, baby?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He slid his thumb rough through my wet and pressed hard at my clit.

My body surged tight against my ropes.

“Ask sweet,” he ordered.

Oh God, this was hot. This was great. This was fucking amazing.

“Please, baby,” I begged. “Please, fuck me.”

“Want it hard?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to fuck your mouth first?”

Yes I did.

But right then I needed him inside and not inside my mouth.

“Yes, but no,” I panted, his thumb at my clit, finger still up my ass torturing me in a good way. “Need you inside. Now, Deacon.”

“That wasn’t sweet, baby.”

“Please,” I pleaded immediately.

“You gonna take your plug when I bring it?”

Oh God.

So fucking hot.

“Yes,” I said and that one syllable came out sharing I’d take it right then if he had it.

He read it. Deacon could have dementia and still read me.

“Fill your ass, eat your pussy.”

“I’ll suck your cock,” I gasped.

“No, sweet Cassie. You’ll be tied down, won’t be able to move your head. You just hold it in your mouth.”

He was killing me.

I strained toward him, nearly coming undone when I couldn’t complete that action.

“Deacon, please.”

Even with his eyes hot and hungry, his lips smiled. “Had enough?”

“Yes,” I nearly shouted.

“Then prepare for me to ride you, baby.”

I was prepared. I couldn’t get more prepared. The only thing I was worried about was that the orgasm I was about to have would kill me.

He slid his finger out of my ass, his thumb away from my clit, and positioned.

Hand in the bed, arm straight, holding him above me, I felt him move the tip of his cock through my wet as I tried and failed to get more of him.

“Baby, please.”

He surged inside.

My back arched from the bed, my head digging in the pillows, all four limbs jerking against the ropes.

Then he fucked me, hard, rough, holding his body away from mine. I dipped my chin, saw his eyes on me, and whimpered.

He liked this. Fucking me barely touching me, just his cock driving deep and fast, watching me take his thrusts, my body jerking with each one, my ropes tight, making me immobile.

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.

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