Unfinished Hero 04 Deacon (31 page)

I stopped when Deacon burst out laughing.

Bossy started yapping.

I grinned at my cereal, listening to Deacon
laugh, doing this perhaps for the first time since I was a little
kid feeling completely and utterly happy, but more, content, safe,
and totally at peace.

Deacon quit laughing and noted, “You’re lucky
those last two are dead, Cassie. Means you won’t have to butt up
against them when they try to rent a cabin.”

“My man is a badass, they wouldn’t stand a
chance.”

He gave me the mouth grooves and eye crinkles
and more warm and squishy when he replied, “Bullshit, you and me
both know I’d just have to stand there while you took care of
business.”

I was preparing to jump him in order to share
my feelings when a knock came at the door.

Before I could make a move, Deacon did,
putting his plate down and murmuring, “Got it.”

And I jotted down another on my mile long
list of good things that came with having Deacon. They were great
and small. A small one being I could eat my cereal while he opened
the door.

Bossy, of course, followed her daddy. She
liked her momma but she was definitely a daddy’s girl.

I understood since I was too, now in more
ways than just one.

“John, hello. Cassidy said you’d be back. So
good to see you.” I heard Milagros say from the foyer and I felt my
brows draw together.

We had two cabins—one with an over-nighter,
one a short stay—both checking out and needing cleaning. Milagros
knew that but when she came, she had a master key and usually got
down to it, coming to me to say hey or share a coffee when she
needed a break. She didn’t come to my house first.

I put my cereal aside and started toward the
kitchen door. I was halfway there when it was filled with Milagros
and Araceli, Deacon trailing with Bossy tucked in the crook of his
arm.

But I stopped with one look at Araceli.

“Baby, are you okay?” I asked.

“Don’t feel good,
Tía
Cassidy,” she
murmured.

She could say that again. She looked pale but
her cheeks were flushed and the deep pink was concerning.

“She has a bit of a fever,” Milagros
explained. “A bad belly. I know John’s just back, Cassidy, and I’m
sorry to ask, but—”

Before she could finish, or I could say a
word, Deacon stated, “We got her.”

My eyes flew to him.

“I have a new client and I clean their house
after the cabins. It’ll be hours,” Milagros said.

“We got her,” Deacon repeated.

God, I loved living on my warm, sweet, fluffy
cloud.

Deacon crouched in front of Araceli. “You
wanna watch movies?”

Bossy yapped her approval of this
suggestion.

And the cloud got fluffier and sweeter.

Araceli nodded.

“You like Sprite?” he went on.

She nodded again.

“Okay, girl. You and Bossy go lie down on the
couch. Cassie will set you up with a movie. I’ll go to the store
and get you some Sprite. You like vanilla wafers?”

I stared at him, so warm and squishy it was a
miracle I wasn’t goo on the floor, wondering if he was for
real.

“I like ’nilla wafers,” she whispered.

“I’ll get some of those too,” Deacon told
her. “Anything else?”

She shook her head.

“Right then, hit the couch, girl,” Deacon
finished.

“Can I call
Tía
Cassidy Cassie too?”
she asked and Deacon looked to me.

“Of course you can,” I said, moving forward
as Deacon came out of his crouch. “Let’s get you settled.”

Deacon shifted out of the way as I put a hand
to Araceli’s shoulder and gently turned her toward the door.

My eyes went to Milagros. “Got this, honey.
You do what you have to do, take your time. We’re here when you’re
done.”

Her eyes underlined the words she said.
“Thank you, Cassidy.” She looked to Deacon. “You too, John.”

“Not a problem,” he rumbled.

I threw a smile over my shoulder at Milagros
and guided Araceli to my living room.

We’d decided on a movie by the time Deacon
walked Milagros out, went upstairs to get his keys and wallets, and
came to us.

“You need anything, woman?” he asked me.

I threw a blanket over Araceli, my eyes to
him.

“No, honey.”

He nodded, turned, and took off.

Bossy tried and failed to jump up on the
couch so I helped her. When she got where she wanted to be, she
went about doing her best to sort Araceli out. This being bounding
to her face and licking her cheek.

Araceli giggled.

I smiled.

My little Boss Lady, she knew what she was
doing.

I bent deep, kissed Araceli’s temple, and
told her, “Gotta go to the kitchen to clean up, baby. You need
anything, yell.”

“Okay,
Tía
Cassie.”

I grinned at her, squeezed her arm, and
watched my dog snuggle into the blanket at her belly while Araceli
scratched her ruff.

Then I went to the kitchen and I did it not
even trying to stop myself from remembering all the goodness that
came my way that morning.

Why would I?

When life offered you everything you ever
wanted, you savored it.

It was just that I savored it over finishing
cereal and doing dishes.

* * * * *

Later that night, snuggled into Deacon on the
couch, my back to his front, his arm around me holding me close,
when he used the remote to turn to the news, I twisted my neck to
catch his eyes.

His head in his hand, elbow in the couch, he
felt my gaze and tipped his to mine.

“You were good with Araceli,” I noted, and he
was. He didn’t hover. But he did check on her, bring her Sprite,
corralled Bossy when she was getting too much, and for a while he
even sat in an armchair and watched a Disney movie to keep her
company.

It was awesome.

“Like kids,” he replied.

Gleefully happy.

I licked my lips.

He watched then his eyes came to mine and I
knew he again read me.

“Want ’em, woman. Two, definitely, maybe
three.”

Oh yes.

Gleefully happy.

“Yeah?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

I turned in his arm and pressed closer.
Deacon reciprocated the gesture, taking me to my back, his length
partly on me.

“I want two, maybe three, too.”

His eyes lit and he pressed closer.
“Miracle.”

That confused me.

“Sorry?”

“Somethin’ my Cassie Boss isn’t gonna fight
about.”

I grinned even as I lamely slapped his
arm.

He bent his head and brushed my lips with his
before he lifted away and asked, “You gonna watch the news with
me?”

“I don’t watch the news, Deacon, because it’s
not news. It’s televised depression.”

He chuckled.

“No, seriously,” I said.

“Right,” he replied, still chuckling. “Then
go on up. I’ll just watch the top and be up with you.”

“Okay.”

He gave me another brush on the lips before
he took his weight from me.

I rolled off the couch and strolled to the
doorway.

I stopped in it, unable to see Deacon where
he was lounging on the couch.

It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to see him. I
figured he’d hear me.

“Baby?” I called.

“Right here,” his deep voice called back.

Yes he was.

Thank God.

My voice dipped lower when I said, “When you
come up, would you play with me?”

Last night he’d given it to me vanilla. Or,
more aptly, I’d given it to him since I rode him until he found it
(after other things, of course; and I found it too,
definitely).

Now he’d had a good night’s rest and a day of
nothing taxing, just taking care of a sick kid.

I wanted to explore.

The air in the room got heavy in a good way
but he just ordered, “Be naked when I get there, Cassie.”

“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 fuckin’ 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
pussy.

I whimpered.

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

“Oh God, fuck me, Deacon. Harder, baby.”

If I could have a coherent thought, I
wouldn’t imagine he could do it.

He did.

I started keening.

“Red ass, bound fixed, hole oiled, takin’ my
cock, best you ever had, Cassie?” he grunted.

“Best,” I moaned, “I ever,” I kept moaning.
“
Had
.” I breathed then came, tensing so tight, I thought I
would break apart.

Deacon lifted up, smacked my thigh again, and
demanded raspingly, “Fuck yeah, Cassie, clutch my dick.”

I didn’t have to try; my pussy was doing it
for me.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pounded deep, and then I
heard his disjointed groan of release as he kept taking me.