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My moan was decadent, and he smiled as he passed me the lube before taking hold of my already dripping cock. While he kissed me again, his tongue rubbing over mine, I opened the lube, squeezed enough into my hand, and then slathered the long, hard length of him.

“You feel so good. I love touching you.”

“Well, I love being touched. I’m yours. You can have me when––” His breath caught for a moment as I pressed slowly down over him, taking him into my body inch by inch, “––whenever you want.”

“Mine,” I murmured, sinking deeper, head back, lost in the act, words no longer possible.

I took my time, and my hands never left his chest. I could feel it rising and falling, feel the tremors in his abdomen, the clenching of the muscles there.

“Sasha,” he rasped, and it was a good sound.

Once I was fully impaled on his shaft, sitting there, my body flush with his, I leaned forward to retake his mouth and felt the length of him sliding out of me when I rolled my hips, then the incredible stretching and filling when I pushed back.

His name clawed its way out of my throat as I moved, riding him, first gently and then more forcefully as my muscles relaxed, making the motion a smooth glide that I needed more of.

“Yes,” he husked. “Take what you want. Use me hard, I won’t break.”

I found a new angle and cried out, my hands digging into his chest, and he chuckled, all low and dirty, as I bent and took a bite of his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered darkly before grabbing my hair tight, fisting it in his hand and yanking me down so we were sharing hot, wet breath. “Not hard enough? Not deep enough? Tell me, omega, what do you need?”

“You know. I know you know.”

“But my omega will tell me his desire, because he trusts his alpha to give that to him, always, without exception.”

I tried to move, to take what I needed, but I had to be on the bottom. I needed all his strength and power.

“Now. Tell me now.”

“Oh please, my alpha, unleash yourself on me.”

The smug smile was evil, but those gold eyes of his were full of possessiveness and craving, but even more, of love. I was the one, and it was all right there, locked in his gaze.

“Deacon, make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he ground out. He moved so fast, as though I weighed nothing, rolling us both over so I was on my back, and I gasped at the fullness of having his cock buried to the hilt, but with all his weight on me at the same time.

I screamed his name.

He chuckled into my ear before his mouth opened over my mark and he buried his fangs there.

I roared his name the second time, wrapping my legs around his waist and hanging on as he pounded into me.

“Grab the headboard, love,” he commanded, and I slipped my hands under it as he unwound my legs and slipped each one over his shoulders; then he curled forward and thrust over and over, pushing hard and fast and deep with each plunge.

I arched up off the bed, trying to get closer, and then there was suddenly the wave of my release rolling up my spine as he drove into my body. My muscles clamped down around him, and it was his turn to call my name as he hammered me through my orgasm and his.

When we were both catching our breath, he moved so I could wrap my arms and legs around him, and he lay down over me, still buried in my body, and pressed his face into my shoulder, kissing my mark.

“I love you,” I whispered, the tears not a surprise in the least.

“I love you back,” he rumbled, clutching me to him. “And I’m going to move in just a second.”

“There’s no hurry.” I turned my head for his kiss.

When he finally eased free of my body, he didn’t roll off the bed like I thought he would. Instead he gathered me close again and hugged me tight. His deep sigh made me smile.

“You’re happy,” I told him.