Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(40)

“Needed to give that message, Cassie.”

“I know, but it still hurt.”

His hand rounded my shoulder and cupped the side of my neck when he whispered, “Sorry, baby.”

“Make it up to me. Let me pay you back for the dog.”

He slid his hand into my hair and pulled me closer to his face.

“Future reference, this game you’re playin’ to get your way, it’s gonna work a lot of the time. When it’s about me givin’ you somethin’ that’s doin’ somethin’ for me, like givin’ me peace of mind I did what I could to keep you safe when I’m not here, it’s a game you’re gonna lose.”

There it was. More happy. And he even managed it while denying me something I wanted.

I totally had to step up my game.

“No fair,” I said quietly. “You can’t give me a reason that makes me feel all warm and squishy when you’re not giving me my way.”

I heard that thread of humor in his voice and it wasn’t near as slender when he asked, “Warm and squishy?”

I dipped closer, sliding my lips along his cheek to his ear as I rolled my hips in his lap, and whispered, “Squishy.”

His head moved and I turned mine in time to see him belting back his bourbon.

A beat later, the glass landed on the arm of his chair with a thud, and a beat after that, we were out of that chair, one of his arms under my ass holding me wrapped around him, the other one at the back of my neck, holding me tight to him.

“I take it it’s time for bed,” I noted as he walked us to the door to the kitchen.

“Yup.”

I dipped in again and said against his neck, “Yippee.”

His arms gave me a squeeze as he walked us into my house.

Then he carried me to bed.

* * * * *

I slid Deacon’s cock out of my mouth, licked the tip, and called, “Deacon?”

I didn’t have to call him. I was curled between his legs, his knees cocked, shoulders to the headboard, and he was watching me.

“What?” he growled, the sound coming from deep, like it was torn from him.

I licked the tip again and said, “I don’t know why.”

“What?” he repeated.

I licked him from base to tip, my eyes glued to his, then I swirled the head with my tongue, watching his face get darker and darker, his jaw harder and harder, his legs more tense as he watched me. I did all this fighting the urge to squirm or climb on and ride him until I gave it to him. And me.

I wrapped my fist around him, pulling his cock away from where it was lying on his stomach, and said, “I don’t know why it’s you.”

“Jesus, woman, you wanna share this with me now?”

I stroked him with my hand and whispered, “I just know it’s you.”

His face got darker and I knew it wasn’t just because of what I was doing with my hand.

I kept whispering when I shared, “Because you make me happy.”

I lost purchase on his shaft when he did an ab curl and grasped me under my arms. With a yank, I was up and moving swiftly, landing on my belly on the bed. I felt Deacon’s knees pushing my legs apart as he positioned, his hands on my hips hauling me up.

He barely got my knees under me before he thrust in, yanking my hips back, drilling me.

And I was even more happy.

“Baby,” I whimpered.

Then, no other way to put it, even though he’d already pretty much mounted me, he finished that by curving his body over mine, putting a forearm into the bed beside me, thus mounting me.

He pulled my hair away from my face and put his lips close to my ear.

“Future,” he grunted, still driving deep. “That game you just played, you play it again, you’re gonna win, but I’m gonna choose how you get the prize.”

“Okay,” I breathed, deciding to play that game a lot as in, a lot.

And again I was up because he wrapped both arms around me and hauled me up so I was back to his front, impaled on his cock.

God.

Heavenly.

He held me to him and took me that way for a while before he bent again and had me ass in the air and took me that way for a while.

Finally, he pulled out, turned me to my back, shoved my legs up with his hands behind my knees, and mounted me again. He took me that way until I exploded beneath him, tensing against his grip, jerking against his thrusts, and calling his name.

He kept thrusting but he gave me time before he ordered, “Woman, look at me.”

I focused on him over me, still gripping my knees high and wide, still pounding inside me.

“Watch what you do to me,” he grunted.

I could do that. I so could do that.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Then I gave him what he wanted and watched what I did to him, doing it gleefully. I did this all the way through to when he started bucking between my legs, every beautiful, bunched muscle in his body standing out in gorgeous relief, and his head shot back as he poured himself inside me.

Seconds later, he released my legs and dropped over me, taking only a minimum of his substantial weight into a forearm beside me.

I didn’t mind taking his weight. I liked it.

But, still.

I was peeved.

“No fair,” I said to the ceiling, sounding as annoyed as I was.