62. Deacon
Chapter 62
Deacon
Her arousal is suffocating me, and we’ve only been in the car for three hours. But I don’t dare open the windows and try to push fresh air through the cab. It’s April, and while we’re out of the mountains, it’s still cold.
Henri reaches for the air dials and turns them all the way to cold, blasting the AC. She fans herself and tries to make the hot flash more manageable.
Coming up behind a snowplow, I’m forced to slow down. I grip the steering wheel, ready to throttle it for being an inconvenient necessity on the road.
She gasps, and it startles me. I glance over to make sure she’s not in any danger and put my eyes back on the road and the hazards.
“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” She whines between heavy pants. “Fuck. I forgot how bad these hurt. I think the worst thing is the cramps.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got you, Hen.”
The idea to grab the entire box off Ansel’s fridge was probably my best one. Knowing it’s hard to believe just the pills would disappear, taking the entire box meant that they would wonder where it got moved to and eventually stop looking.
I take the next exit off the freeway. We don’t need fuel, but the rule of a long-distance drive is if you stop, you fill it. I pull up to a pump at a gas station and set to fill the tank. While the nozzle pumps, I open the hatch and pull out the box, then carry it around to the passenger side and open Henri’s door.
Her eyes had been glued shut, but they flutter open. She makes squinty eyes at the box and then back at me, making the devious dark part of my brain light up with delicious ideas. It sends shockwaves straight to my cock, and I’m glad for thick, well-constructed denim to contain me.
“Lena packed a box for Morrigan. And if you haven’t figured it out yet, my little sister is a freak. Pick your poison.”
The fuel pump clicks off, indicating it’s full. But I can’t pull myself away from her. Not. Just. Yet.
Henri’s curiosity has been piqued. She takes the box from me and lifts the flaps. I wasn’t sure which expression I was going to get.
At first, she freezes, then flicks her wide eyes to mine before stumbling through her words. “I don’t know...”
“I know for a fact that Ansel and Morrigan didn’t touch them.” I try to assure her.
“It’s not th—” A cramp hits her hard, and she pushes her head back against the headrest, covering her mouth with her hand to stop herself from making any noise.
Standing here, giving her space and time to decide, isn’t the best way to care for her. But if I push her to relieve the cramps the only way I know how, here in this parking lot at a fuel pump, it...
I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. She’s probably not into that.
Making sure she’s safely tucked inside the car, I push her door closed before replacing the gas nozzle. On my way back around to the driver’s side, I close up the back of the SUV.
My heart is thundering in my chest. Breathing is hard. Forcing oxygen into my lungs, I try to calm my heart anyway. Hold it together, Deacon. You can’t fuck her right here. She might not even let you fuck her at all. The Wisconsin house wasn’t exactly a relationship starter.
My wolf growls. She is ours. You’re an idiot. Our mate needs us. Then she’ll beg us to claim her. And you’ll do it unless you’re some sort of dumbass and fail to perform.
Got it. Thanks. So supportive of the situation. I let the sarcasm hang heavy.
I jog up the side of the SUV and fling open the driver’s door. Henri still has the box partly open on her lap, and she’s staring at it, the lines on her forehead broadcasting the gears working in her brain.
After navigating us back onto the road, I explain, “Your heat is still early. We might be able to make it home if you stave off some of the... tension. I’m good to drive, and I’ll drive through the night.”
“Deacon,” she snarls, her little wolf rising to the surface. “You want me to what, fuck myself with a dildo right here on the front seat of the SUV?”
“I mean, you can climb in the back if you’d feel more comfortable.” It would probably make her more comfortable. I should have thought of it first. “But yes. I’m suggesting you fuck yourself in the car with a dildo to relieve the cramps. It will get you through, hopefully, to get us home.”
Her heart rate picks up, but arousal, not fear, fills the cab. “What if someone sees?”
My cock throbs, and I drop one hand from white knuckling the steering wheel to try and adjust myself until it doesn’t hurt. Try. Because it’s not going to happen. If an erection lasts longer than four hours, call your doctor. The silly late-night commercial voice for a human erectile dysfunction medication plays in my head.
“Then someone gets the show of their fucking life.”
Henri folds the flaps back all the way. The scent of her arousal spikes again, and I’m drowning in the sweet smell.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look. I try to distract myself by changing the words to songs buzzing in my head and chanting to encourage my own good behavior.
One of the toys must be suitable because she leans forward and puts the box on the floor.
“You know how dangerous it is to put your feet up on the dash?” Henri’s question draws my attention off the road to where she’s adjusting herself in her seat.
The way she’s sitting doesn’t look comfortable. It looks clinical, like in pornos, where a doctor takes advantage of his patient.
“Put your seat back,” I instruct carefully.
Henri drops her feet from the dash and does what I say.
“Shimmy out of your pants.”
To keep myself in my seat, I start counting the lines on the road. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. I look down and see we’re going almost twenty over the speed limit. I take my foot off the gas and wait until we come down to a respectable five over, then set the cruise.
Henri’s pants finally hit the floorboard.
“Now spread your legs, bend your knees, and rest your feet together on the seat in front of you. Think reclining horny butterfly pose.”
“Oh,” Henri whispers, “fuck.”
“Fuck indeed.”
The scent of her arousal through her pants was enough to drive me nuts, but now with her sex completely exposed, I take my hand from my dick to cover my mouth, the side of my index finger blocking my nose.
“Are you going to be okay?” Henri’s voice wavers as she second-guesses herself.
“You got aroused at the idea of someone else maybe seeing you.” I deflect, pulling my hand away from my face. I want to drop it back to my lap, but I force it to the steering wheel. “Ultimate exhibitionist experience, Henri. I can look all I fucking want, but I can’t touch you.”
“You could touch you.” Henri’s voice catches. It’s thick with lust.
The throbbing in my cock radiates through my body, up my spine, and down to the soles of my feet. It’s the heat talking. It’s the heat talking. This isn’t her.
It is her, my wolf argues. It’s the part of her she keeps away from us. From herself.
“Touch yourself, Deacon. Please.” She begs me so sweetly.
I slouch in my seat to better access my fly. Button, zipper, and boxers out of the way, the cock that’s been plaguing my body finally has room to throb and breathe.
“Tell me what you’re doing, Hen.” I keep my eyes on the road, watching the white line rather than counting the passing lane stripes.
“I’m teasing the head against my clit. It feels so good.” Henri immediately understands the assignment.
“I’m throbbing for you. My cock is so fucking hard right now,” I tell her, encouraging her.
I wrap my hand around my shaft, squeezing in time to the pulses of my heartbeat.
Henri gasps, and I glance over just in time to catch the dildo sliding into her pussy. Oh, to be between her legs and watch it.
“Fuck. You’re so smart,” Henri whispers. “So, so, so, so smart.”
“That feel good, Hen?” I smile, remembering what a blissed-out Henri looks like.
“Mm-hmm.” She makes contented noises, and I can hear the dildo sliding in and out of her.
I match her pace, running my hand up and down my shaft. I roll my thumb over the tip, and beads of precum mix with my motions.
“What are you thinking?”
“About . . .” Henri hesitates. “Don’t judge?”
My wolf growls, already angry.
“Too late. I’ve already judged you and decided I love you anyway.” I say those words again.
I want her to fully understand what I mean and the radical honesty behind them. But fuck, perfect mate, wanting to be this free with it all. Should I spell it out for her?
“I’m imagining what it’d be like to have your full attention.” She moans, and the pace of her fucking herself on the dildo picks up.
Don’t crash the SUV, Deacon. My hand stops, and I swallow hard, focusing on driving for a few moments before I go back to stroking myself and trying to keep time with her.
My wolf gets a better idea. Pull over instead. All the better to watch her.
Henri sighs and finds cohesive words again. “This is so hot. Fuck.”
“What do you like about this, Henri?” I ask, prompting her for more, but I don’t need more. I’m already trying to hold myself back from coming. “Just knowing I’m watching?”
“Not just you,” she moans, but it turns into a whine. “Nathan said it’s shameful...” Her voice quivers, and I know she’s going back to the horrible things he called her this morning. Despite that memory, she keeps talking to me. “But I... The idea of getting caught. That someone could see. ”
“Do you want me to push that, Henri?” I ask, eyeing the semi a half mile in front of us.
I turn my head, fully taking my eyes off the road to look at her. She’s a vision. Fuck nude art and the classic works Thalia talks about. Henri beats them all.
I pull my eyes away from her and back to the road, watching as we pace the semi. “What do you say, Henri? There’s a semi up ahead. Want to risk being caught?”
She stops fucking herself, and it draws my eyes back to her.
She’s biting her bottom lip.
I take it as a yes. My cock still craves attention desperately. But I tuck it back into my boxers and let my shirt drape over the top. Turning off cruise control, I change to the passing lane of the divided highway and gun it. The SUV climbs in speed with ease.
“You going to come for me, Henri? I’ll pull up beside this truck, and you’ll come as hard as you can.”
“Hell” — she gasps for air — “yes.”
I ride in the truck driver’s mirror line of sight and see him check it, making note of my position. Creeping forward, I pull us up alongside the cab. I steal glances across the car as Henri pumps the dildo in and out of her pussy with fervor. She works her clit with her fingers, and I desperately want to help, but instead, I keep an eye on the semi cab, watching for his acknowledgment of us next to him.
“Fuck, Deacon. Deacon!” she screams as she comes.
It’s loud, hard, and nearly eardrum shattering.
With the lane behind us completely void of any cars, I step on the brake and let the semi continue to barrel on, putting distance between us.
Memorizing the plate and the carrier, I keep it to myself to avoid pulling up next to them again at a stop. I don’t know for sure what he did or didn’t see, and it’s best to avoid the possibility of another interaction.
Henri pants, coming down from her orgasm. She pulls the dildo from her pussy and lazily holds it in her hand.
“Here, I’ll hold it. If the security guys haven’t changed anything out, there are napkins in the glove box. I’ll get you something nicer at our next stop. I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.”
It was stupid of me not to think about it. No woman, especially not mine, should be cleaning herself with napkins after gifting me in such a magnificent way.
The pause and slight ‘hmm’ ultimately gives way to Henri giving me what I want. With the dildo in my hand and self-control out the window, I waste zero time or energy debating what I am dying to do. I run my tongue up the shaft, flattening it along the girth before turning the dildo and cleaning it again in the same long lap.
If Henri smelled good, she tastes that much better. It’s like a kick of the good moonshine straight from Wyatt’s extended family in the bayou. The strong kind that comes in a mason jar and you know came from a long line of bootleggers before you even get the lid off the jar.
I instantly want more. I want to feast straight from the source.
“Deacon!” Henri gasps.
I cast a sideways glance at her. “What? Did you want a taste? I’ll share.”
“No.” Henri furrows her brow. “I didn’t expect it.”
“Figured this was a perfectly fine idea to clean it up. I’m helping.” I can’t help but smile as I turn the dildo again, taking a slower, longer lick.
My balls throb with the desire to fuck her, taste her, play with her. Anything .
She leans forward and opens the glove box. Finally comfortable enough with me to share perverse thoughts—maybe post-orgasm clarity or, at the very least, she’s given up on trying to keep me at arm’s reach—she tells me, “I didn’t know I was attracted to that.”
Thankfully there’s a wad of napkins from a fast-food restaurant. She cleans herself, and I take the last lick up the final side of the dildo.
“You like a man who knows his way around a shaft?”
Henri stops breathing, and I know by the way she freezes entirely that she’s gathering her thoughts, delaying her answer. “I... I’ve always wanted an experience with two men.”
Her feeling free enough to confess that is like being given the most precious gift, and it unlocks a piece of my soul.
“And it feels wrong to expect guys to want to...” She clears her throat. “You look so... comfortable, licking that toy.” Henri mumbles, “It’s gotta be the heat talking, making me want this... Assuming you’d want that.”
I smile, putting the dildo into the cupholder. “Confession: I’m monogamous, but unlike the cavemen, Cade and Finn, I am open to adding trusted others to playtime to fulfill certain fantasies.”
Uncomfortable with the dildo so exposed, Henri awkwardly wraps it up in a few napkins and places it inside the center console. She then moves in her seat, pulling her pants back into place before returning the seat to the upright position. She fans herself and reaches for the knob to turn the SUV’s heat down to cool off her body before the next wave of primal needs takes over.
“Confession: I’ve never had an orgasm that good.” She leans her head back against the headrest. “I’m also more than slightly impressed with your ability to keep us safely on the road during all that. ”
That strokes the ego just right, and my smile grows. “I drive under the influence more than I drive sober. Hot woman in the passenger seat fucking her brains out is a distraction, but it’s still significantly easier to keep track of the lines.”
“Helps that the road is straight?” She makes note of the very flat, very boring, part of Wyoming.
“Does help that the road is straight.” I agree.
Another mile rolls past, or rather, the electric number ticks up, before she speaks in a sheepish tone lightly laced with a tinge of fear. “So how much of a distraction would it be if I...”
Her words trailing off make me jump to conclusions. The optimistic brain kicks in. S troke me off? I’d kill for a Henri hand job. I try to muffle the optimistic, dirty brain, but it gets louder. S uck us off. That sends a painful throb to my dick. No. It’s probably something mund—
“Took care of you.” Henri’s words are tentative. She tucks her hair behind her ear and backpedals. “Unless, of course, you don’t want me to. I wouldn’t... Oh fuck, bad idea. Horny Henri talking.”
“Henri,” I groan. The metaphorical devil and angel battle on my shoulders, but as he always does, the devil wins out. “You can always touch me. I’m always available for your use.” The angel forces me to add a clause. “But you don’t owe me. This isn’t one of those quid-pro-quo moments. I expect nothing from you.”
“What if I really want to give it?” Henri’s voice is barely above a whisper.
“I’m all yours, Hen.” I’ll always be all yours.