Deacon
Page 28
I felt him shift then I felt him kiss the top of my head.
“Right, Cassie, you got what you need out of me?”
I didn’t answer the question because I couldn’t believe he’d asked it considering the answer was no. Not by a long shot.
“For tonight, woman,” he went on softly. “Got about three hours of shuteye last night. I’m wiped. Need sleep.”
“Then if that’s what you need, I’ve got what I need out of you,” I replied but finished, “for tonight.”
His fingers still at my neck gave me a squeeze then he rolled us, him rolling over me so he was on the other side of the bed where the light was lit, the side of the bed he’d claimed last night.
He reached out and turned out the light while I reached down and yanked up the covers. When I got them up and was preparing to settle in, he did it for me, tucking me into his side where I had no choice but to rest my cheek on his chest, just like last night.
I relaxed into his warm solidness, like I did the night before. Like I hadn’t done it two nights in a row but like I did it every night for decades. Feeling safe and snug and content, my body pressed to his, his arm wrapped around me.
Being Deacon, he didn’t say goodnight. I was learning when he had something to say he said it but he had a variety of ways of communicating and they didn’t just come from his mouth. They included his eyes, his expressions, and his actions.
I was also learning that worked for me.
Thus, Deacon feeling his goodnight was shared by turning out the light and curling me into him, through my cheek over his heart, my hand resting on his chest, I felt his breath evening out and I knew, just like last night, he was gliding easily into sleep.
So I said what I had to say. What he had to know. What he had to carry with him all the time, when he was here and when he was away from me.
I said what I needed to give him in order to take up the challenge of making him even happier.
“I’m glad I didn’t have a man, honey.”
I knew he hadn’t drifted into sleep because when I whispered those words, his body tensed against mine, his hand resting on my waist curled in, fingers digging into my flesh just short of painfully.
He held this several beats before he relaxed, his arm gave me a slight but short squeeze, and within moments, his breaths steadied.
And there it was again.
I was right.
Deacon could communicate everything without saying a word.
And that worked for me.
Chapter Seven
That’s Why
My eyes opened and I saw skin. Sleek olive skin covering defined muscle.
Deacon.
More precisely, Deacon’s back.
I was on my side, Deacon was on his, and I was tucked tight to his back.
Seeing what I saw, smelling nothing but the scent that was pure Deacon, having him there, morning two, after denying that I wanted him for what felt like eternity, I immediately got wet with wanting more of him.
Unfortunately, at the same time I remembered that he’d said the night before that he was wiped.
I was an early riser and didn’t even have to look at the clock, just note that dawn was barely touching the sky, and even though we went to bed way early, it was also now way early.
So, as much as I wanted to put my hands on him, wake him up, coax him into making love to me, I needed to let him sleep.
Therefore, carefully, I rolled away from him, cautiously moving the covers so I wouldn’t disturb him too much or give him a shot of cold as I got out of bed.
I didn’t make it.
Deacon rolled too, and his arm came out, hooking me around my belly and hauling me back into his frame.
“Where you goin’?” he growled sleepily into the back of my hair.
“Letting you sleep, old man,” I replied, hoping he’d get that with the last part, I was teasing.
He got it.
I knew with his unoffended response of, “Don’t need sleep.”
He also communicated what he did need, doing it by pressing his hips into my ass and I felt that at least one part of him was very awake.
“You got shit to do?” he asked, shoving his other hand under me as the arm already around me shifted, his hand trailing up my belly.
I always had shit to do, but truthfully, once I got the cabins the way I wanted them, outside of check out cleaning, since I didn’t provide daily maid service, managing eleven rental cabins wasn’t that taxing.
“Not really,” I answered.
“Good,” he muttered as his hands made it to their destinations, one curling around my breast, the other one cupping me between my legs.
I liked that. I liked the smell of him. I liked his heat. I liked that he was there with me. I liked all that so much, I pressed my hips back into his.
His hand between my legs pushed deeper, his fingers slipping through the wet folds, and my lips parted on a soft breath as my hips jerked slightly.
“Fuck. Ready,” he growled and kept doing it. “You good with ungloved?”
I was good with anything he wanted to do to me.
I didn’t say that.
I said, “Yes, baby.”
His finger and thumb at my breast rolled my nipple as I felt his body shift, position. I knew what he was doing, I liked what he was doing, all of it, so I tilted my hips to give him what he needed.
His cock slid through my wet, the tip caught, and he thrust in, fast, hard, deep, filling me.
My head went back and I moaned.
He pulled hard at my nipple then his hand slid up to my throat.
“Gonna take me hard, Cassie,” he warned.
I’d take him hard.
I’d take anything he wanted to give to me.
“Okay,” I breathed.
“Okay,” he whispered, then he buried his face in the back of my hair and did what he said he was going to do.
Fingering my clit, his other hand curled light at my throat, he fucked me hard, pounding deep, holding me steady to take him as I pushed my hips into his to get more, panted, whimpered, and finally tensed. My hands flying to his wrists to wrap around, I moaned long and brokenly as the heady release burned through me.
It was only then he lifted his head and buried his face in my neck, his hand between my legs becoming an arm wrapped tight around my belly. His hand at my throat shifting to become an arm across my chest, fingers curled into my shoulder. And he held me snug as I took him even harder. Coming down but still glorying in the velvet brutality, thrilling at every grunt that exploded against my skin.
And I did this until he sunk his teeth in my neck before he drove his cock deep inside me and groaned his climax into my flesh.
He couldn’t have come down, not even begun to recover before his voice came at me, rough and thick.
“Right, Cassie, you got what you need out of me?”
I didn’t answer the question because I couldn’t believe he’d asked it considering the answer was no. Not by a long shot.
“For tonight, woman,” he went on softly. “Got about three hours of shuteye last night. I’m wiped. Need sleep.”
“Then if that’s what you need, I’ve got what I need out of you,” I replied but finished, “for tonight.”
His fingers still at my neck gave me a squeeze then he rolled us, him rolling over me so he was on the other side of the bed where the light was lit, the side of the bed he’d claimed last night.
He reached out and turned out the light while I reached down and yanked up the covers. When I got them up and was preparing to settle in, he did it for me, tucking me into his side where I had no choice but to rest my cheek on his chest, just like last night.
I relaxed into his warm solidness, like I did the night before. Like I hadn’t done it two nights in a row but like I did it every night for decades. Feeling safe and snug and content, my body pressed to his, his arm wrapped around me.
Being Deacon, he didn’t say goodnight. I was learning when he had something to say he said it but he had a variety of ways of communicating and they didn’t just come from his mouth. They included his eyes, his expressions, and his actions.
I was also learning that worked for me.
Thus, Deacon feeling his goodnight was shared by turning out the light and curling me into him, through my cheek over his heart, my hand resting on his chest, I felt his breath evening out and I knew, just like last night, he was gliding easily into sleep.
So I said what I had to say. What he had to know. What he had to carry with him all the time, when he was here and when he was away from me.
I said what I needed to give him in order to take up the challenge of making him even happier.
“I’m glad I didn’t have a man, honey.”
I knew he hadn’t drifted into sleep because when I whispered those words, his body tensed against mine, his hand resting on my waist curled in, fingers digging into my flesh just short of painfully.
He held this several beats before he relaxed, his arm gave me a slight but short squeeze, and within moments, his breaths steadied.
And there it was again.
I was right.
Deacon could communicate everything without saying a word.
And that worked for me.
Chapter Seven
That’s Why
My eyes opened and I saw skin. Sleek olive skin covering defined muscle.
Deacon.
More precisely, Deacon’s back.
I was on my side, Deacon was on his, and I was tucked tight to his back.
Seeing what I saw, smelling nothing but the scent that was pure Deacon, having him there, morning two, after denying that I wanted him for what felt like eternity, I immediately got wet with wanting more of him.
Unfortunately, at the same time I remembered that he’d said the night before that he was wiped.
I was an early riser and didn’t even have to look at the clock, just note that dawn was barely touching the sky, and even though we went to bed way early, it was also now way early.
So, as much as I wanted to put my hands on him, wake him up, coax him into making love to me, I needed to let him sleep.
Therefore, carefully, I rolled away from him, cautiously moving the covers so I wouldn’t disturb him too much or give him a shot of cold as I got out of bed.
I didn’t make it.
Deacon rolled too, and his arm came out, hooking me around my belly and hauling me back into his frame.
“Where you goin’?” he growled sleepily into the back of my hair.
“Letting you sleep, old man,” I replied, hoping he’d get that with the last part, I was teasing.
He got it.
I knew with his unoffended response of, “Don’t need sleep.”
He also communicated what he did need, doing it by pressing his hips into my ass and I felt that at least one part of him was very awake.
“You got shit to do?” he asked, shoving his other hand under me as the arm already around me shifted, his hand trailing up my belly.
I always had shit to do, but truthfully, once I got the cabins the way I wanted them, outside of check out cleaning, since I didn’t provide daily maid service, managing eleven rental cabins wasn’t that taxing.
“Not really,” I answered.
“Good,” he muttered as his hands made it to their destinations, one curling around my breast, the other one cupping me between my legs.
I liked that. I liked the smell of him. I liked his heat. I liked that he was there with me. I liked all that so much, I pressed my hips back into his.
His hand between my legs pushed deeper, his fingers slipping through the wet folds, and my lips parted on a soft breath as my hips jerked slightly.
“Fuck. Ready,” he growled and kept doing it. “You good with ungloved?”
I was good with anything he wanted to do to me.
I didn’t say that.
I said, “Yes, baby.”
His finger and thumb at my breast rolled my nipple as I felt his body shift, position. I knew what he was doing, I liked what he was doing, all of it, so I tilted my hips to give him what he needed.
His cock slid through my wet, the tip caught, and he thrust in, fast, hard, deep, filling me.
My head went back and I moaned.
He pulled hard at my nipple then his hand slid up to my throat.
“Gonna take me hard, Cassie,” he warned.
I’d take him hard.
I’d take anything he wanted to give to me.
“Okay,” I breathed.
“Okay,” he whispered, then he buried his face in the back of my hair and did what he said he was going to do.
Fingering my clit, his other hand curled light at my throat, he fucked me hard, pounding deep, holding me steady to take him as I pushed my hips into his to get more, panted, whimpered, and finally tensed. My hands flying to his wrists to wrap around, I moaned long and brokenly as the heady release burned through me.
It was only then he lifted his head and buried his face in my neck, his hand between my legs becoming an arm wrapped tight around my belly. His hand at my throat shifting to become an arm across my chest, fingers curled into my shoulder. And he held me snug as I took him even harder. Coming down but still glorying in the velvet brutality, thrilling at every grunt that exploded against my skin.
And I did this until he sunk his teeth in my neck before he drove his cock deep inside me and groaned his climax into my flesh.
He couldn’t have come down, not even begun to recover before his voice came at me, rough and thick.
