Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(80)

“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 f*ckin’ 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 *.

I whimpered.

Deacon f*cked 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 f*cked me until I was making constant mews of pleasure I couldn’t even begin to stop.

“Oh God, f*ck me, Deacon. Harder, baby.”