Work Text:
There are many things that make up a good King. Deacon likes to think he has those qualities and then some. He hasn’t survived the last twenty six years without weighing the pros and the cons, making the hard calls, reveling as his power and reach has grown. More than once, the power has gone to his head; he won’t deny it or the satisfaction he’s gotten from it.
And then Cassandra Railly enters his life and changes him.
If asked, he’s certain people would say she’s made him weak; given him a soft spot where there was once nothing but impenetrable armor.
Those people are fucking wrong.
He’s now a King with a Queen. One that makes him even stronger; fills him with even more fire. That fire burns bright, consumes them both. Separate they’re strong, powerful. But together? Together, they’re a wildfire.
While he may be a King, he will gladly serve her on his knees. Try to make himself worthy of her. He knows he never will be but he has no problem putting forth the effort, especially between her thighs.
Logic tells him love has no place in this world. Getting tied down with feelings compromise the end goal; Cole and Ramse are evidence of that. He has to protect his crew, the entirety of the almost three hundred souls of the West VII, and she has her mission: save their world, build a better future. Neither of them needs anything more to complicate that.
But each time she’s in his arms, Cassandra Railly stirs emotions he had long since abandoned. She’s his Queen. He’ll do anything for her. Logic is has no place here between them in this bed.
Her breath is hot against his ear as a soft keening noise escapes her throat. The sound makes his cock throb deep inside the vice grip of her warm pussy and his hold tightens on her wrists, keeping them pinned above her head with one hand while the other braces him against the mattress.
“Deacon.” He loves his name on her lips and he buries his face in the slender slope of her neck, and squeezes his eyes shut, continuing to thrust inside of her, concentrating on the pleasure building instead of the feelings that unexpectedly curl around his heart.
His teeth tease at the pulse in her throat and she moans again. He shifts ever so slightly, trails one hand between their bodies, finds her clit with his fingers tips. Her walls milk at his cock and he fight against coming while she cries out. He continues his rhythm, thrusting deep as she comes undone beneath him.
Deacon lifts his head and meets her green eyes. They’re so beautiful, sharp with intelligence. Now they’re soft, pupils wide, satisfaction darkening their hue. Cassie tilts her face up, brushing her lips against his. Her tongue sneaks out and trails across his bottom lip before he captures her lips, a groan in his throat as he kisses her until the need for air overrides everything, even his desire to feel her lips on his.
“Come for me, Deacon.” Her words are spoken low but are an unmistakable command nonetheless.
As if he could deny her anything. He’ll give her everything she wants. Even this; especially this. Quickening his pace, he fucks her hard until he’s just about to come. Then he pulls out, taking his cock in hand and jerks it in his fist until he comes, spilling his seed across her abdomen. She smiles up at him and he can't help but return it. He kisses her in a quick movement before he gets off of her.
Cassie rises from the mattress as he settles down. He pulls up the thick blanket they kicked to the corner and he watches her snag his discarded shirt from the floor and use it to clean off her belly. “You staying?” He asks as she drops the shirt back to the floor. He takes what she gives; stolen moments between missions to undo the sins of men.
She nods and he lifts the blanket in offering. With a small smile, she sinks onto the bed, stretching out at his side. Her hands travel the expanse of his chest, idly tracing the scars that stand out on his skin. He waits for the memories of beatings he got to cause them to stir but none come. All he can concentrate on is her gentle touch, the warmth of her skin. He captures that traveling hands of hers and places feather light kisses her knuckles.
He’s a good King, only made better by the Queen in his arms.