Oh God, this was hot. This was great. This was fucking amazing.

“Please, baby,” I begged. “Please, fuck me.”

“Want it hard?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to fuck your mouth first?”

Yes I did.

But right then I needed him inside and not inside my mouth.

“Yes, but no,” I panted, his thumb at my clit, finger still up my ass torturing me in a good way. “Need you inside. Now, Deacon.”

“That wasn’t sweet, baby.”

“Please,” I pleaded immediately.

“You gonna take your plug when I bring it?”

Oh God.

So fucking hot.

“Yes,” I said and that one syllable came out sharing I’d take it right then if he had it.

He read it. Deacon could have dementia and still read me.

“Fill your ass, eat your pussy.”

“I’ll suck your cock,” I gasped.

“No, sweet Cassie. You’ll be tied down, won’t be able to move your head. You just hold it in your mouth.”

He was killing me.

I strained toward him, nearly coming undone when I couldn’t complete that action.

“Deacon, please.”

Even with his eyes hot and hungry, his lips smiled. “Had enough?”

“Yes,” I nearly shouted.

“Then prepare for me to ride you, baby.”

I was prepared. I couldn’t get more prepared. The only thing I was worried about was that the orgasm I was about to have would kill me.

He slid his finger out of my ass, his thumb away from my clit, and positioned.

Hand in the bed, arm straight, holding him above me, I felt him move the tip of his cock through my wet as I tried and failed to get more of him.

“Baby, please.”

He surged inside.

My back arched from the bed, my head digging in the pillows, all four limbs jerking against the ropes.

Then he fucked me, hard, rough, holding his body away from mine. I dipped my chin, saw his eyes on me, and whimpered.

He liked this. Fucking me barely touching me, just his cock driving deep and fast, watching me take his thrusts, my body jerking with each one, my ropes tight, making me immobile.

It could have been bad. It could have felt distant. Like being used. Like nothing but a wet pussy, a vessel to receive his seed.

It wasn’t that. Not with the way he was looking at me, taking in my face, his gaze roaming hot on my body.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he grunted.

“Harder,” I begged.

He slammed in harder.

I closed my eyes. “Yes.”

“Look at me.”

I opened my eyes.

“Watch me fuck you, baby, ’til you can’t watch anymore.”

“Okay.”

My knees jolted up as I watched Deacon, his big, magnificent body tensing and tightening, the muscles contracting, defined sharp in his beautiful flesh, up on his hands driving into me.

Then it moved deep, terrifying in the forewarning of its power.

“Deacon!” I gasped.

“You gonna come hard for me?” he growled.

“Baby,” I breathed and it happened, slamming through me as he drove inside, wiping everything away but the burn, his cock, the vision of him thrusting seared on the backs of my eyelids. I cried out as it engulfed me, carried me away, my arms and legs yanking against my bonds, taking the sensations deeper, blistering, scoring so deep I would never forget the exquisiteness I was experiencing.

“Look at me.”

His words penetrated but I was lost to the feelings, I could do nothing.

Deacon pounded inside.

“Fuckin’ look at me.”

I forced my eyes open just in time to dazedly watch his head snap back, his neck muscles stand out, and hear him groan as he kept pounding inside and came for me.

I had only started coming down when he slammed deep, ground in, and dropped his head.

I knew he started coming down when he moved again, gently sliding in and out.

I fought to steady my breathing.

Deacon kept his head bent and continued to take me, slow and tender.

“Could stay hard a year, watchin’ your pussy take my dick.”

My arms jerked against the ropes at his words, longing to touch him, clutch at him, hold him to me at the same time loving that I couldn’t and all I could give him was my pussy.

He lifted his head, caught my eyes, and slid in to the root.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispered.

I stared at him, in all his big man magnificence, looming over me, giving me what he just gave me, taking my trust and making it so worth it that it wasn’t funny, still connected to me—thinking he could say that again.

“You watch yourself take me next time you have my dick,” he ordered, his voice still thick from sex.

“Okay, baby.”

He dropped to one forearm, the other hand he put to my side where it glided up and in, cupping my breast and holding me there.

My body relaxed underneath him.

“You good?” he asked

I nodded, feeling my lips already curled up.

He bent his head, ran his nose along my jaw, and lifted it again.

“Comfortable?”

I nodded again, still serenely smiling.

“That worked for you,” he noted.

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled.

That was when his lips curled up. “It way worked for me.”

I got that, big time.

I didn’t have it in me to say anything.

“You get it now, how it means something if the woman you’re drivin’ your dick into means something?”

I’d got it before but I really got it then from what he gave me, what he took, and the look on his face that said exactly how he felt about it.

I nodded.

“You like it like this, Cassie, tie you to the bed, make you sleep that way. Wake you up and play whenever I feel like it.”

My arms twitched, pulling at my bonds, sending a residual wave through me that felt so good, my sex tightened around his cock.

He pressed his hips into mine.

“She wants that.”

“I think I might want whatever you wanna do to me,” I admitted, my voice quiet but not from fear or nerves at what I was giving him. Because I was so replete, I couldn’t talk louder.

He dipped his head, brushed his lips against mine, and said there, “Then I’ll give it to you.”