Chapter 45
Willow
Gardening
Sex with someone new (F’ing!)
There’s a thing no one warns you about regarding pet ownership.
When you crash through the front door in the arms of your smoking-hot, absurdly strong guy and he’s hoisted you up against the wall like you weigh nothing at all, you’re going to feel ready for everything with each rub and thrust. And with his body pressed to yours and his big palms gripping your ass, your groans of pleasure will be met with… whining.
Gus whined from behind us, and Deacon jumped when the dog pressed his nose against his butt.
“I forgot about Gus,” I said on a pant, feeling the flush ride up my chest and the wall hard at my back.
Deacon was hard and hot against me, and I squirmed against him on instinct, even as I caught my breath from the harried kiss.
Deacon’s lips dropped to my neck, finding the spot he’d learned drove me wild. “I’ll let him out.” He gently lowered me to the ground, his hands still firmly on me. “Don’t go anywhere,” he groaned near my ear.
“You want me to stand still?”
He took a hesitant step back, his gaze raking over me.
“I don’t want to miss a single squirm.” He clapped for Gus to follow him and hurried toward the back door, casting a glance over his shoulder at me.
Gus trotted after him obediently, but my eyes were locked on Deacon, the curve of his taut ass and the muscles in his arms. I squeezed my thighs together in anticipation of his return.
When I heard the back door slam, I slipped through the entryway and into the kitchen, pulling off my scrubs as I crept toward the stairs, hanging the top on the edge of the counter so it would be the first thing he saw when he came back in, and I hurried up the stairs to my room.
I shimmied out of my underwear and bra and left them in the hall outside my room before climbing onto the bed. I was going for a certain look and paused on the bed to get the pillows arranged just so, when Deacon pushed through the door to find me on my hands and knees.
“I told you not to move.”
Embarrassment should have been my primary reaction. I was on full display for him, but I looked over my shoulder and couldn’t help but grin as I watched his gaze scan me from head to foot.
“I needed another minute to get everything perfect.”
He tossed aside my scrubs and the red underwear—the new set I’d bought with him in mind—and stalked toward the bed. “This looks pretty fucking perfect.”
“I thought you’d want me on my back,” I said, wriggling under the feel of his fingertips grazing over my lower back.
“I want you in every position.” Deacon shuffled behind me, and I saw his shirt fly to the floor.
“I can’t see you in this position.” There was something so erotic about the limited visibility, and I trusted him.
I trusted him to take care of me, but I trusted he’d like me at this angle because he seemed to like me at every angle.
In the past, I always felt like I had to disguise my belly or make sure my thighs were hidden under sheets unless the lights were out.
I’d never given my ex the chance to see me.
With Deacon, I wanted his gaze. I’d never felt anything close to this sense of trust and comfort before.
“I can see all of you,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.
I heard Deacon’s belt slide through the loops, and a shiver ran up my spine.
“My God, Low.” The bed dipped behind me before his fingers trailed along my spine and then his palms slid up my thighs and hips, over the sides of my belly and back down. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You can’t see my face,” I said, unsure how to respond to his comment.
“I know your face is beautiful. I’ve memorized every freckle.
” He inched closer on the bed, and his cock pressed against my ass, hard and tempting, as his hands slid along my ribs and he pulled me up on my knees and against his chest. His palms cupped both breasts and rolled the nipples between his fingers, and his breath caressed my neck.
“When I tell you that you’re beautiful, it’s not because I’m just realizing it.
It’s because it bears repeating.” He kissed down my neck, and one hand slid lower, stroking my belly, and I widened my knees to invite him between my thighs.
“I’ve known all along,” he said against my ear, and his middle finger moved along my slit and then circled my clit.
“You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen from the second I met you. ”
I let out a whimper at his touch, the deft way he circled me, spreading my wetness with his soft, purposeful touches. “I didn’t know that.”
“I’ll never let you forget,” he said, circling my clit again before sliding a finger into me, followed by a second.
He pumped into me, the pressure and friction matched only in intensity by his words.
“Never.” I reached back to run my fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands.
One of Deacon’s hands kneaded my breast deliciously, and the other worked his fingers in and out of me.
I felt like a cat stretched against him.
“I’ll always remember this,” I said, feeling my lower belly tense as I rolled my hips against his fingers.
I sucked in a few ragged breaths, as he stroked my G-spot deep inside and the sensation wound out to every nerve ending.
“Always,” I repeated as the wave overtook me and I crashed through an orgasm, pulsing around his fingers.
“Will you take me like this?” I’d only ever done missionary sex, and this was worlds away, so new, and I craved more of that with Deacon.
“From behind?” He slipped his fingers from between my thighs and sucked them clean, the sounds of his mouth so close to my ear making another shiver run through me.
He kissed my shoulder and then pulled my chin to the side to capture a kiss.
Deacon’s kisses felt so permanent to me, like the imprint of his lips was indelible, like the press of his mouth tattooed something on me I’d never lose.
When we broke the kiss, his eyes locked with mine, just for a moment, but I had to blink away everything I was sure he could see on my face.
I was so desperate to keep this man I knew I couldn’t.
“Are you sure?” he asked, dropping his lips to my shoulder, still rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You want to do this?”
“Positive,” I murmured, already eager for more, and I wriggled back against him.
“I should make you wait,” he said, his hand trailing from my nape to the base of my spine as he eased me down on the bed.
I barely recognized his voice—Deacon felt like a live wire behind me, and I could hear in his voice how much he was holding himself back.
It was so hot, so primal, and I had the feeling again that this was a true first. He held my hips in both hands, squeezing and stroking me. “I told you not to move earlier.”
“You don’t want to wait,” I said, resting my forearms on the sheets and feeling the weight of him behind me, the heat of his hands. “Do you?”
He chuckled, and I heard the foil of the condom ripping.
“No,” he said, nudging against my entrance with the wide head.
I squirmed against him. “I don’t want to wait.
” He held my hips steady and pushed forward just an inch, making me suck in a breath.
He was thick, and I squirmed against his hard flesh, acclimating to the feeling as he moved in deeper.
“I couldn’t if I tried,” he said, pushing in deeper.
“Maybe you can punish me later,” I joked, gripping the sheets in front of me as he filled me deeper. “A little spanking?”
At my words, he thrust forward, hitting the sensitive spot deep inside and making me moan. “You’re going to kill me,” he said, pulling back out and in with slow, measured thrusts.
“More,” I said, backing against him, seeking more friction, more momentum. “Please.”
He shifted inside me faster, his thrusts more powerful, and I held on to the bed, meeting him thrust for thrust. My heart rate sped.
Sweat dripped down my neck from the exertion, and I cried out as he reached deeper.
We moved in sync, and he’d been right—he wasn’t doing this to me.
We were together and we felt so together.
I cried out again and lowered my fingers to circle my clit, my body rising and tense.
“Come around me, baby,” he said, breathless, and I imagined him as untethered as I was.
“You’re fucking incredible.” He spoke in broken sentences between thrusting in and out of my body, and I was hot and needy everywhere.
“Mine,” he said, his voice feeling far away and all over me as the tension uncoiled and I bucked against him, giving in to the pleasure as my orgasm erupted from me.
Mine. He said I was his, and I groaned as his thrusts became more erratic, and then he pushed in deep, letting out a guttural cry as he pulsed inside me.
“You’re mine,” I repeated, an aftershock of pleasure moving through me. “You’re mine, too.”
We stilled, and I felt like I’d taken off and was floating back to earth, only floating with Deacon’s solid, purposeful hands still holding me. I wasn’t going to float off into space. “Deac,” I said, finding my voice.
“C’mere,” he said, his voice hoarse as he fell beside me and pulled me to him, my face against his shoulder and his arms wrapped around me. Deacon’s breath came heavy, and he kissed my forehead as we settled against each other. “I am, you know.”
I blinked, my eyelids heavy as I tried to snuggle closer to him, our legs tangling. He was warm, and I wanted to sleep in his arms like this. “You are what?”
“Yours.” His lips brushed my forehead again.
“I’m yours.” His palms slid up and down my arms, and too many emotions were battling for control, too many thoughts.
I let him hold me, his words wrapping around me.
“I never belonged anywhere until I was a PJ. I never had a strong civilian group of friends until I met those weirdos I live with. And,” he said, his hands stilling and his body pulling away from mine enough for his chin to tip down.
He’d see everything on my face—I couldn’t hide it, but I also didn’t want to avoid his gaze, and our eyes locked.
It was like a hundred lanterns flying off into the air—that’s how I felt when he looked at me like that.
“And I’ve never been in love with someone until you.
” He brushed a curl from my forehead. “I’m a mess.
My head’s not on straight, and I don’t know where I’m going.
In a lot of ways, I’m lost, but with you, I feel found. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
I pressed my palm to his cheek, the soft hair of his beard under my palm. “Of course I’ll have you.”
The grin spread across his face, his eyes lighting. “Really?”
I pulled his lips to mine, sinking into another kiss, knowing on some level, the mark it left was indelible and I didn’t have to worry about what came next because this was permanent.
We broke the kiss when we heard Gus downstairs barking. I giggled at the timing. “I guess the dog is supportive.”
“Pretty sure it’s at the neighbor on his nightly walk with the schnauzer. Gus hates that thing.”
“Maybe that’s how he communicates he really loves her,” I offered. “Like a little kid pulling someone’s pigtails.”
Deacon met my gaze again and tugged gently on my hair. “I like you.” He tugged again and brushed his lips against mine, his dark eyes boring into mine when we pulled apart, like the eye contact was an extension of his touch. “I love you, Low.”
I stroked his face again, loving how he leaned into my hand. And then I made a barking sound, twice, and a third was stopped when a laughing Deacon rolled me to my back and kissed me again, his lips playfully moving from my lower lip to my chin and my neck.
“I know you’re going to vet school and I don’t know what’s next and we have a lot to figure out, but right now I’d really like to…”
I ran my nails over his head and sucked in a breath when his lips met that sensitive spot on my neck. “F me again?”
He chuckled against my skin, his hand pausing on my hip.
“And we’ll figure it out. If I need to, I can put vet school on hold and wait to apply until you know what’s next.”
Deacon’s head lifted, and he opened his mouth to answer me, but he halted.
Cruz stood in the door, and my heart jumped at the sight of him before sinking into my stomach at the chilling quality of his words when he spoke. “What the fuck are you doing?”