Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(76)

“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 *. 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 *,” 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 f*cked 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.