Cattail Club: Safeword Interrupted Part 7

"Ah..." Pain collided with pleasure, forcing her higher. Another climax hovered just out of reach. She shook her head against the pillow fighting the urge to scream. No amount of pleas, begging, or hollering would sway her Dom from what he wanted. If he wanted her to come again, she would. She tried to brace herself for another brutal a.s.sault of pleasure when he suddenly stopped.

"s.h.i.t." Deacon sounded like he too was at the end of his tether as he groaned against her lips. His thighs tensed as he seemed to savor the rhythmic tug of her release. "Too tight, too perfect...trying to suck the c.u.m right out of me."

"Sir!" A whimper built in her throat when he jerked free of her p.u.s.s.y, his thick c.o.c.k leaving a gaping emptiness in her that she needed filled. Her eyes widened in surprise when he scrambled up her p.r.o.ne body, his knees fitting on either side of her torso wedged against her armpits, as he fell forward on his arms. His movement immediately put his erection within licking distance of her mouth. The tangy scent of her own cream mixed with the heady musk of his s.e.x should've been repugnant, but it was anything but.

"Lick me clean. I want to come against those pretty lips of yours."

"Yes, Sir." She lapped eagerly at the moist head of his c.o.c.k. As she suspected the tangy flavor of her cream mixed with his salty essence. Above her, he groaned, then pushed against her lips.

"Open," he gritted out as his c.o.c.k slipped back and forth over her mouth. "I want in."

She obeyed, nearly choking on the hard length of him, as he thrust inside. He must've realized she was struggling to accommodate him, because he froze. "Relax. You can take me." He pulled back a fraction, easing the pressure. She tightened her lips around him, hoping the tight embrace would be an apt apology.

"That's it." His encouragement settled over her like a warm blanket. She'd always loved s.e.x in the past, but pleasing him seemed to satisfy something inside of her, satisfaction that her past encounters had been missing. She moaned softly as she swirled her tongue around the head of him, dipping inside his slit to seek out more of his intoxicating taste.

"Such a tease." He buried one hand in her hair, lifting her head off the pillow.

She made an inconsequential noise, almost a snort, before rubbing the flat of her tongue over the flared underside of his glans. She almost smiled at his low curse and the hard tug on the back of her head.

"Again." His demand was rough, and his thighs trembled against her sides.

Hmmmm, a Sir hot b.u.t.ton.

She repeated the motion as he began to f.u.c.k her mouth. It took careful timing to breath, but Deacon proved how apt he was at reading her always seeming to know when to thrust and how deep. She hummed, hoping the sound would intensify his pleasure.

"Son of a....gonna come." His hips lost their smoothness and began to jerk erratically as his o.r.g.a.s.m grew closer.

She moaned happily, wanting nothing more than to taste him exploding across her tongue. So far he hadn't allowed her the opportunity, preferring to finish deep inside her while she struggled against her bonds, or clawed his back the few times he'd f.u.c.ked her without restraints.

Then he pulled free of her mouth, his weight settling just below her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he leaned back. She cried out in protest, her eyes flying open. The sight of him fisting his c.o.c.k, every tendon in his arm outlined, as he brought himself to the edge was erotic. The plea that had been hovering on her tongue changed.

"Come on my face, Sir in my mouth! Please!"

Her impa.s.sioned words seemed to please Deacon. He rose up his knees, bringing hi erection back within reach. "h.e.l.l, yeah. Open those pretty lips for me." Deacon caught his weight by bracing one arm against the wall above her head. "Here it comes."

She groaned and hungrily turned her head as the first spurt of his release landed just to the side of her lips. The second surge hit its mark however, coating her lips and dribbling into her mouth.

"Mmmmm, more...please." She didn't even take time to savor his taste before begging for more. Deacon groaned and shoved his still erupting c.o.c.k back into her mouth. She sucked hard while tongue lashing at the head of him.

"f.u.c.k!" Deacon stiffened above her as one final trickle of warm salty goodness coated her tongue. This time she savored his flavor, salty from all the seafood he'd eaten the night before.

When he finally drew back, she'd expected nothing more than a gruff thank you before he left the bed to fetch a warm washcloth. Instead what she got was a hard tongue-thrusting kiss as his hand dove between her legs. She cried out in surprise, when he thrust two fingers inside her while grinding the heel of his palm over her c.l.i.t.

She screamed against his lips as her lower body exploded with unexpected pleasure, her legs pulling hard against the bonds holding them.

Deacon tore his mouth from hers, his eyes glittering with emotion and determination. "That's right, come for your Dom." He shifted his grip, and she nearly went into orbit as he found the rough patch of tissue that composed her g-spot. The pleasure immediately quadrupled.

"Sir!" She tried to scramble away from it.

"No. You will come." He rubbed faster while rea.s.serting his authority over her. "My sub will obey or end up over my knees."

She whimpered at the threat, then everything went white...then dark as her overwhelming o.r.g.a.s.m racked her body. Pleasure so brutal she could only scream his name before she lost consciousness.

It took some effort, but Deacon was able to finally untangle his spent body from that of Bethany's. Every part of his body ached from the viciousness of his release, but if pushing both of them to their very limits s.e.xually is what it took to convince his sweet little sub that they belonged together he'd do it again. Her evasiveness about the outcome of their return was driving him nuts pushing him to his very limit.

After gently freeing her from the restraints and tucking the blanket around her slender, still, softly asleep form, he rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. What the h.e.l.l was he going to do if she refused to be his once they returned home? He was a man of his word, and it was starting to look like he might have to walk away when every part of him from his dominant s.e.xual soul to his no nonsense common sense cried out that she was his.

"Boy, you're an intelligent little s.h.i.t and can read a submissive like the back of your hand, but when you find the one the one who can see through all your bulls.h.i.t, remember that honesty is the key. Don't make my mistake."

Unbidden his uncle's words from so long ago when LeRoy's last permeant sub had asked to be uncollared. His uncle had been more than three sheets to the wind on Scotch, but the younger Deacon had remembered the agony in LeRoy's voice. He glanced over his shoulder at the still sleeping Bethany. Could it be that easy? Pulling himself up by his mental bootstraps, he sighed. There was only one way to find out to ask the only woman he'd ever wanted more than on a temporary basis to wear his collar.

But before I do that I need coffee... He winced a bit when he stood as his thigh muscles protested. And two ibuprofens.

The most delicious smell in the world teased Bethany's nose. She inhaled once more and stretched realizing that Deacon must have untied her sometime after she'd fainted from that last monumental o.r.g.a.s.m. But now, with that tempting smell, s.e.x was the last thing on her mind. Food especially if it was Momma Willis's cinnamon buns. She slowly opened her eyes when the mattress shifted next to her, as Deacon sat down next to her holding a plate of steaming ooey, gooey, cinnamon rolls in one hand and a large mug of coffee in the other. Even without the damp towel around his waist and the culinary temptations, the tender expression on his face had her heart melting in her chest.

Whoa. She mentally shook herself. I need to remember this is just temporary. Enjoy the rolls and keep that smile on your face. Tomorrow will be soon enough to rebuild those walls.

She cleared her throat. "Is that your mom's sticky buns?"

He nodded, then placed the plate on the stand next to the bed just out of her reach. "Fresh made this morning."

She licked her lower lip as her stomach rumbled. "You baked?"

"Yep." He licked a smear of icing off his finger. "I thought it'd be a nice last day on the beach breakfast."

She stared at his finger, then at the plate. "And what wonderfully deviant thing would I have to do to get one?"

He took a sip of the coffee, then set it aside. She frowned as he pulled out the drawer in the stand. When he pulled out a slender leather collar and held it up for inspection, her heart leapt.

"You're kidding, right? I have to accept your collar to get one lousy cinnamon roll?" She tried to fob it off like a joke, but something flashed in his eyes before cool determination settled in.

"One roll not enough, huh?" He tore off a piece and rubbed it over her lower lip. She tried to capture it, but he pulled it back, leaving just the sticky icing in its wake. He popped the piece into his own mouth. "Then how about a pan full of them every Sunday? Would that be enough to tempt you?"

She thought about laughing it off, when she realized he was dead serious. Shoving up into a sitting position, she settled back against the headboard. "Look, you don't have to bribe me."

He arched a brow at her. "I don't? Could've fooled me."

Anger began to pool in her stomach. "What do you mean? You were the one who spent the past week f.u.c.king me until I couldn't see straight. No bribes necessary."

He gave her a knowing nod. "That I did. Not that I haven't enjoyed it immensely, but it still hasn't gotten me what I want."

"And you think sweets are going to?" She crossed her arms over her exposed b.r.e.a.s.t.s suddenly feeling vulnerable."

"No." He set his mug down on the table. "But maybe honesty will." He picked up her hand and placed the collar on her palm. "I love you, Bethany Adams, and want you to wear my collar to be my sub."

Wariness settled over her, warring with her need to say yes, to jump up and down with joy. "For how long?"

He cupped her face. "For as long as you'll have me. I can't promise we'll have a huge family like you've always wanted..." He pressed a kiss to her lips, then drew back. "But I want this to work. Maybe one day we can have a small family."

"What exactly are you saying, Deacon?" She pulled the sheet up to her chest. "That you love me, but don't want kids with me?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't...s.h.i.t, I'm not explaining this right." He met her gaze. "All I know is that I don't want to live without you in my bar, or in my bed. But I'm not ready for kids just yet. Maybe one day down the road, but right now..." he shook his head. "I need it to just be us. Can you accept that?"

She nibbled on her lower lip. "I wasn't implying I wanted kids right this moment, Deacon. But someday in the not too distant future I'm going to want at least one."

Relief crossed his face. "One is doable in say a few years from now. Maybe by then I'll be able to figure out what kind of father I'll be. Because I honestly don't know even how to be a dad. You know my sperm donor didn't stick around once he knocked my mom up with me and Steve."

"And what does that a.s.shole have to do with anything?"

He flushed. "Well more than one family member has said I'm just like him..."

She cut him off. "You're nothing like that dumb-f.u.c.k. You wouldn't ever leave your child behind." She pushed the sheet down and climbed into his lap. "I wouldn't be in love with you if you were such a cruel b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"You love me?" Deacon seemed to be stunned.

"With all my heart." She gave him a soft smile, then handed him the collar. "I'm yours, if you want me."

"h.e.l.l yes, I want you!" He slipped the thin leather collar around her neck.

As it settled in her throat, she grinned up at him. "Just don't think this is getting you out of serving me Momma's cinnamon rolls every Sunday, Sir."

He threw back his head and laughed. "Of course not. Greedy little witch."

Chapter Eleven.

"Well, look who's finally returned." Tim Langfield, one bartender extraordinaire, stood behind the bar, wiping down what looked like an already spotless bar in preparation for a busy Friday night. "Our wayward manager. We thought for sure that Deacon had locked you away in some hotel room and tortured you. Especially after he tore a.s.s out of here when he realized you'd taken off for the warm sunny sh.o.r.es of Puerto Rico without him."

Bethany fought the flush trying to creep up her neck at how close to the mark Tim's statement was. He'd definitely tortured her poor body...with both pleasure and pain. And opened a world that I only dreamed existed. But she wasn't about to let Tim know that. So she c.o.c.ked her hip and gave him a wicked grin. "Who says I didn't torment him? That I didn't make him do spreadsheets until he promised to never touch my books again?"

He gave her a look of skepticism. "Really?" He tossed the wet rag into a bin under the bar. "Are we talking about the same man who came in here this afternoon with an extra bounce in his step and a smug, s.h.i.t-eating grin on his face?"

"I don't know are we?" She ignored the pleasant feeling in her stomach brought on by the idea that she might be the cause of Deacon's good mood. But she had to admit since they'd left the island two days ago, Deacon had seemed more relaxed than she could ever remember him being. Maybe that's what happens when a Dom has a willing sub at his beck and call. She resisted the urge to touch the thin silver choker Deacon had placed around her neck this morning before she'd left his bed. She still couldn't believe she was wearing Deacon's collar her ultimate fantasy aside from one day carrying Deacon's child. She'd have never guessed that her vacation would result in this. Her happiness from the moment he'd placed the necklace around her throat still lingered.

Until you're comfortable wearing the collar I gave you in Puerto Rico at the bar, this will be your day collar.

Then he'd slipped the delicate silver chain with a small ebony lock on it around her neck. To all those not in the lifestyle, it looked much like a necklace that best friends shared one with the key - the other with the lock. While not as heavy or tight as her regular collar, it still reminded her to whom her s.e.xual submission belonged.

Tim shook his head sadly. "d.a.m.n, there goes my fantasy of you being more subdued. So much for my hope that Deacon had f.u.c.ked that 'take no prisoners' att.i.tude out of you. "

Bethany stilled, her earlier euphoria disappeared under the brunt of her rising anger. Had Deacon been bragging to his bartender about his mastering of his manger? Dammit, he knows how important this job is to me. How can he expect me to run his d.a.m.ned bar, if the help thinks I'm a joke?

She placed her hands on her hips, ready to disabuse the fool that she'd ever be subdued. "Excuse me. Did you just imply that because Deacon "

Tim's eyes widened and he held up his hands. "Whoa. Don't go for the jugular, Bethany. I was just jokin' around. It'd take more than Mr. Romeo's 'I'm the Dom, Hear Me Roar' att.i.tude to tame you. In fact, I'm glad he didn't."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "And why's that?"

He leaned forward far enough to glance down the hall toward Deacon's office, then met her gaze. "Because not only will you be able to keep him on his toes, but you'll remind him that despite his reputation as a Dom, that he's still just a guy - just like every other guy - who at any given time is clueless about what a woman needs."

And just like that, her anger deflated under the humor and truth of the barkeep's response. It didn't surprise her that the man knew of Deacon's dominant side Deacon had warned her that Tim had a standing membership at Cattail. However, the idea that he didn't automatically side with his fellow Dom tickled her fancy. She chuckled, then shook her head. "So true no matter how dominant the man may be, us women still have the ability to baffle them." She decided to let the matter go for now, and turned her attention to the upcoming night. "We'll be opening in less than an hour. Are we ready? Anything last minute issues I need to deal with before I go antagonize our boss with my incessant demands?"

"Well...." Tim gave her a hopeful look.

She growled and propped one hand on her hip. "I'm not going to ask him for that d.a.m.ned machine again, Timothy."

"Aw, but come on. Think of the drinks I could make."

She looked up toward the ceiling and counted mentally to ten before looking back at him. "This is a bar that serves alcohol and mixed drinks...not a d.a.m.ned espres...o...b..r. Deacon will never agree to sh.e.l.l out six grand so you can experiment by adding coffee and lattes to the menu when we're not even open for breakfast."

"Again with the espresso machine, Tim?" Deacon walked up behind Bethany, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her up tight against his front. The submissive inside her basked in his obvious affection, while the business manager in her shouted that this wasn't right that she wasn't ready for their relationship to be public knowledge. I can't do this.

Even as Deacon gave Tim a hard time about the d.a.m.ned fancy coffee machine the bartender wanted, he was vastly aware of the tension building inside the woman in his arms. He kept his arms relaxed but not so loose she'd be able to escape. And he'd bet his bottom dollar his little sub was going to try to run.

Like h.e.l.l. She's going to have to eventually accept the fact that I'm not gonna hide our relationship that soon everyone in town will realize that she's mine.

Something deep inside of him shifted once he'd placed his collar around her throat. The part of him that had always shied away from anything permanent after Amanda had broken it off with him, had taken genuine satisfaction at the sight of his leather around Bethany's throat. He felt complete in a way he'd never experienced before. Almost to the point he'd had a near meltdown when Bethany had requested to only wear it during their alone time.

But aware of the fragile state of their new relationship, he decided to compromise on a pretty choker he'd seen online. Thanks to the awesomeness of online shopping along with next day shipping, it'd arrived late last night just in time for him to place it around his submissive's pretty little neck. She might not be comfortable with letting the world know that she was his, but he'd be d.a.m.ned if he let her forget it.

It took all of his considerable control to keep from pulling her closer when she squirmed against him a not so subtle demand to release her. Instead, he merely brushed his cheek over the crown of her head and kept her in his arms while he continued hara.s.sing Tim about his frou-frou coffee. He idly wondered how long it'd be before she tried to make a break for it.

"Let me go." The rising panic in her tone didn't surprise him. His little Bethany hated being out of control - which is what made her submission so much sweeter.

"You promised me you wouldn't do this in the bar." She began to struggle, even kicked back at him, in an attempt to free herself.

Amused by her efforts, he finally allowed her to turn in his arms so she faced him. But he maintained his hold - refusing to let go, even when she wedged her hands against his chest and pushed hard. "Do what?" He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at her. "Hug my girl-friend?" He shook his head. "Sorry, don't remember promising that. No s.e.x in the bar that I do remember, but you never said a d.a.m.ned thing about PDAs."

"Deacon!" She flushed as she glanced over her shoulder at the smirking Tim. "This really isn't any way to act in front of your employees."

"Relax, little one. Tim knows all about my perversions there's probably nothing I could do that will honestly shock him." He gave her a grin. "In fact, I sponsored him when he went through his training at Cattail."

She groaned and buried her head against his chest. "What the h.e.l.l am I going to do with you? Nothing is sacred."

Deacon wisely kept his mouth shut only a fool would answer a question like that. Submissive or not, Bethany was still a woman. As a man, Deacon knew he could only push so far, before she belted him so he held his tongue however that didn't stop him from winking at Tim over her head.