Chapter 7
~Daley~
My body is Jell-o. Wobbly, just-barely-set Jell-o, and when Deacon rises to his feet and picks me up off the couch to carry me into the bedroom, I can’t even mutter a protest that I’m too heavy or that I can walk on my own. Because, clearly, I’m not, and I can’t.
I can’t even form a coherent thought.
Low lamplight fills this room too, and it occurs to me this must be a default setting when he returns to the room. How much does a room like this cost?
Who is this man?
Through heavy, sated, half-closed eyes, I watch Deacon take a step back, his eyes scanning over me lying flushed and naked in the middle of his bed, and the smile of satisfaction that curls his lips has my body heating all over again.
No. It’s not possible. I can’t be getting turned on again.
But when his hand drops to the button of his jeans, popping it open before lowering the zipper, the pulsing between my legs starts up again and I can’t deny it.
I want more.
He lowers his jeans, pulling his underwear off at the same time, and I get my first look at a cock that is perfectly proportionate to a man of his size.
Not quite porn star size, but definitely long enough that my thighs clench together involuntarily.
I’m not a tiny woman, but I feel that way right now.
As if he can read my thoughts, Deacon grins over at me while he finishes stepping out of his pants and socks, leaving him just as completely naked as I am. “Don’t look so worried, Daley. I’m not going to break you.”
I wouldn’t mind if you did, a little voice in the back of my head whispers. It belongs to my younger, freer self, a version of me that’s been silent for a very long time.
“Who’s worried?” I shoot back, trying to sound more confident than I feel now that I can speak again. “I’m just trying to figure out how far I can unhinge my jaw.”
His warm chuckle sends another wave of heat through me. “As much as I’d like to test that out, the preview I’ve had of that pretty pussy of yours is killing me.”
The filthy words, spoken so casually, send another shiver down my spine.
“I need to get in there properly, right now,” he adds. “Everything else can wait.”
As he speaks, he walks over to an open suitcase I hadn’t noticed in the vast expanse of his room and unzips one of the pockets before pulling out a condom.
“You’re prepared,” I point out. Obviously, I’m not the first woman he’s done this with, as if his skill with his tongue hadn’t made that perfectly clear. A man who looks like him could have any woman he wants, any time he wants. I have no illusions about that.
“Always,” he confirms, taking no offense at my observation, and his matter-of-factness about it erases the last shred of self-consciousness I have. This man, who could have his pick, picked me, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of being fucked by him.
“Don’t keep me waiting, then, or I’ll have to carry on without you.” Brazenly, my legs spread and my hand drops between them, slipping through the wetness there.
Deacon’s expression darkens into the sexiest smoulder I’ve ever seen and with a low, almost-growled exhale, he rolls the condom on as fast as he can before striding to the bed.
I yelp as he grabs my ankles and pulls me towards him, right into the centre of the bed, spreading my legs even wider as he settles his considerable weight between them.
“My turn,” he declares, taking only a moment to position his cock at my entrance before pushing inside me with no further warning.
“Fuck! God!” I cry out as he fills me. There’s no resistance, not after the warm-up he gave me, but it feels like a tight fit anyway merely from the size of him.
He’s deep, but not painfully so. Just the right amount of fullness, and when he leans down, placing his hands on the bed on either side of me as he rolls his hips, brushing his pelvic bone against my clit, I let out a moan of pure pleasure.
“Deacon,” he mutters.
I have to tilt my head up to meet his eyes. “What?”
“Just reminding you that’s my name. For when you need to scream it.”
Before I can assure him that I didn’t forget, he pulls out and thrusts into me again, and the power of speech abandons me. My hands slide up his thick arms, holding on tight as he sets a perfect rhythm. Not too fast, not too slow. Like everything else about him, it’s just fucking right.
My ankles hook around his hips lightly, tilting my hips upward and changing the angle. His groan let me know he notices the difference, and his head ducks down to plant another deep, devouring kiss on my lips. God, I almost forgot how good this could feel.
Or maybe I never fully knew, because I’m pretty sure this is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
He drops to his elbows as his pace increases and his big, strong hands tangle in my hair.
His chest presses against my breasts, just enough to let me feel the contact.
And that wonderful, satisfying cock drives into me, again and again while my fingernails scratch at his back, trying to hold onto the moment that’s driving too fast towards its natural conclusion.
When he reaches between us to find my clit again, I’m lost. My body surrenders to another orgasm, and I cry out his name just like he asked me to.
“Deacon, I’m going to come… fuck!”
He pushes himself back up to watch me as my body tightens around him. A matter of seconds later, his movements become erratic, his eyes closing and his breathing turning jagged. Even through the condom, I can feel the rhythmic pumping of his cock as he comes.
His hips continue to rotate against me, much more softly, until we both have nothing left to give.
“That was… not what I had planned for this evening,” I say, my voice still shaky and barely recognizable to my own ears.
He pants out a laugh. “Me neither, but I’m not complaining.”
“Neither am I.”
He gives me one last kiss, surprising in its gentleness, before lifting himself off of me and off the bed.
My fingers itch with the urge to pull him back down and make this last just a little longer but I force myself to keep still, watching as he expertly pulls off the condom on his way to the bathroom.
The tap water runs for a few seconds, and he reappears with a washcloth.
“Let me clean you up. I might have been a little slobbery earlier.”
The sweet gesture, combined with the memory of his mouth between my legs, makes me blush like a teenager as I lie back and let him wipe the warm washcloth up and down my thighs. He’s gentle between my legs, knowing where I’m most likely to be sensitive.
“Thank you,” I say when he’s finished, pulling myself up into a sitting position as my strength slowly returns. “I should get going.”
Deacon pauses mid-step, a frown pulling his full lips downwards. “What?”
“I should go back to my hotel. I have plans with my son for breakfast.”
He shakes his head as he resumes his walk to the bathroom. “I’m not letting you go anywhere alone, and I’m too tired to head out now. You wore me out, Mama. I’ll take you back as early as you need in the morning, but you should stay here tonight.”
It honestly never even crossed my mind that he would want me to stay. “Are you sure?”
“I insist,” he confirms. “It’s nice and warm in that bed, you don’t need to wear anything to sleep.”
His eyebrows raise suggestively, making it clear he likes the idea of me naked in his bed.
I kind of like it too.
As long as I get back before River comes looking for me in the morning, it’ll be fine.
“I’ll just grab my phone in case anyone needs to reach me,” I suggest, and when he doesn’t object, I return to the living area of the suite, locate my phone amongst my discarded clothes and bring it back to the bedroom.
Deacon already has the covers pulled back when I finish in the bathroom and I climb in beside him, both of us still naked, and curl up against him.
Though we’re still complete strangers, it feels perfectly natural to fall asleep nestled against his body, his strong arm wrapped around me and my head on his shoulder.