He looked down at my body and the word, "Fuck," came, sounding torn from him.

That was effective too.

His hand slid from my hip, down and in, his fingertips drifting through the wet between my legs, and his eyes sliced back to mine.

"Wet," he growled.

"Yes," I agreed.

He slid a finger in and I closed my eyes, my back slightly arching.

"My Cassie," he whispered, gliding the finger out.

I felt his hand trail down the inside of my thigh, further down, and the bed moved so I looked to see him at the end. He lifted my leg and kissed the inside of my ankle. A shiver ran through me and it became a quiver when he put my leg back to the bed then wound the rope around my ankle.

He tied it to the footboard.

I was trembling, feeling weird, turned on, vulnerable, exposed, certain yet uncertain, trusting and scared, excited, wanting, and anxious when Deacon finished with my other ankle.

He got off the bed and I watched him take off his clothes, his eyes not on my body. They were staring into mine. My eyes moved but only to take in his big man cock that was as beautiful as the rest of him, thick, long, and right then, very hard.

I got wetter.

"You know what this means to me?" he asked, and I looked back to his face.

"I think so," I mumbled shakily.

"You trustin' me like this, think about it. I was tied to that bed for you, how would that make you feel?"

My insides melted a different way, tenderness toward him and titillation at the very idea of Deacon doing that for me.

He read me. I knew it when he said, "Yeah. That's what I'm feelin' right now, except more," he put a knee to the bed, his hand splayed at my belly, his face in mine, "because you're right there, givin' it all up for me."

"Honey."

His lips dropped to mine as his hand slid down.

"Now, I give back."

I trembled.

His hand slid in, fingers grazing tight over my clit so my hips jerked. Two thrust in.

My limbs tensed against the restraints, my eyes closed, and I dug my head into the pillows as that sang through me.

He left his fingers buried deep and put pressure on my clit with his thumb, but neither moved. "You good?"

I opened my eyes and dipped my chin to look at him.

"Yes," I breathed.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Totally."

I saw his eyes smile.

Then he disappeared because he put his lips to my throat.

And Deacon commenced in giving back, way, way more than what I was giving to him.

Absolutely.

He kissed. He licked. He sucked. He nipped. He finger fucked me. He worked my clit.

All through this I squirmed. I strained. My body tightened, and if his fingers were inside, my sex clutched them deeper. Every time that happened I'd get his growl of approval, each one scoring right through me.

Each pull of the ropes sent heat shafting everywhere when my automatic response was thwarted, reminding me I was his to do with as he pleased and I had nothing to give but it all, he had everything to take, and everything to give to me.

It was simple beauty.

And I was loving every second.

Finally, he moved fully between my legs and clamped his mouth down on me, sucking deep.

"God!" I cried, surging up as far as I could, exhilaration sweeping through me when I was pulled back against my bonds, the pleasure heightened indescribably because I couldn't lift my knees high, throw them over his shoulders. I could only lie there and take what he was giving me.

He ate and he sucked and he fucked me with his tongue. When I was writhing on the bed, straining against the ropes, this close to exploding, he took his mouth from me, drove two fingers in, and my entire body bucked, the bed moving with it.

I lifted my head to see him still between my legs. "Baby," I begged.

He slid his fingers out and down, and wet with me, circled one at my anus.

My frame tensed tight, my knees involuntarily trying to cock and stilling when my motion was denied, the bed jerking again as all my limbs tightened, and I did what I could to press into his finger.

"Yes," I breathed and watched hazily as Deacon's face grew even darker.

He surged over me but left his finger where it was.

"Please," I breathed.

He slid his finger inside.

I turned my head to the side, my body trembling, waiting, anticipating.

Deacon put his lips to my ear.

"Next job, I'm goin' shopping on the way back," he whispered there, gently moving his finger in small circles inside me and my legs pulled tight against the ropes, reflexively trying to open further for him. "Get my girl some toys. Come back to her, plug her ass, eat her pussy while she's tied down with my cock in her mouth."

I jerked my head around, my sex pulsing deep with need. He lifted his head when I did and I caught his eyes.

"Fuck me."

"You need my cock, baby?"

"Yes," I whispered.

He slid his thumb rough through my wet and pressed hard at my clit.

My body surged tight against my ropes.

"Ask sweet," he ordered.

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.