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“I feel I should tell you that punishments don’t really work on me. They just encourage me to be more difficult.”
His lips flattened. “So, basically, you’re just testing in every way a person could be testing?”
“That’s pretty much how it goes, yes.” She nudged his upper arm with her elbow, giving him a taunting smile. “But you want to fuck me anyway.”
“I will fuck you anyway. Again.”
“Then I’ll see you at ten.”
His eyelid twitched. “Eight.”
“Dude, are you sure you didn’t say ten?”
He growled. “Do you want me to throw something at you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then don’t push me.”
“Fine. Whatever. See you at nine.”
“Bailey, I swear …”
She only laughed and walked away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Staring up at Deke’s ceiling four evenings later, Bailey struggled to catch her breath as she recovered from a monumental orgasm. It had torn through her body and sucked every bit of strength from it. She had all but melted into the mattress, and Deke had slumped over her like a dead weight.
Well, damnedy damn.
“The paint on your ceiling is chipped,” she rasped.
“Thanks for letting me know,” he slurred, his breath fanning her throat. “I’ll get right on it.”
She let out a soft, weak snort.
After several nights of being railed by his cock repeatedly, she ached in places she didn’t know possible. But she wasn’t so sore that she needed a break. At least not at the moment.
His touch-hunger hadn’t yet receded, but his general restlessness wasn’t quite as acute. Also, he was having less flare-ups, and they seemed to pass quicker. All good news for him. Not so much for her libido.
Considering they’d rutted like animals in practically every position possible, it could definitely be said that her sexual curiosity had been well and truly satisfied where he was concerned. The problem? Her curiosity was the only thing that had been permanently satiated. Her body continued to burn for the broody son of a bitch.
The weird energy between them hadn’t disappeared. But it had changed. Lost its rough edge. Perhaps because it was no longer colored by carnal needs going unanswered.
Havana would probably be able to better explain it, but Bailey hadn’t told her girls about her little arrangement with Deke. They’d only make a big deal out of it, and it would be more amusing to let them learn of it later on anyway—they’d get all het up about her keeping it from them. She did love it when people got het up about stuff.
Above her, Deke lifted his head. Eyes all warm and slumberous caught hers. The feverish glitter that had been present in those eyes when she’d first walked into the apartment earlier was gone, telling her that his touch-hunger had eased for now.
“My cervix is concerned that your cock wants to hammer a hole into it,” she said, her voice lazy.
One corner of his mouth pulled up. “Then maybe stop asking me to fuck you harder and deeper.”
“It just slips out.”
Shaking his head, he withdrew his softening dick and then fell to his back on the mattress beside her. A breath rattled out of his lungs. “I came so hard my damn gums are tingling.”
Letting her eyes fall shut, she said, “Tingling is always good.”
He let out a sort of gruff hum. “You’ve got a lot of stamina. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to keep up.”
“Ye have so little faith in me.”
“I know.”
She barked a laugh at the unrepentant admission. She wasn’t sure what it said about her that his rudeness tickled her so much. It had stopped bothering her snake. The serpent didn’t see him as a threat to Bailey anymore, feeling confident he didn’t actually hate her.
“But the main reason I figured you’d struggle to keep up is that people dealing with touch-hunger can go all night.”
“They can indeed.”
He went still. “You helped someone through touch-hunger before?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
“Uh-huh.”
“How many?” The question was all demand.
Opening her eyes, she turned her head to look at him. Still flat on his back, he had his gaze locked on her. His expression was closed over, but his jaw was tight.
“I already told you I’d helped others.” Well, she’d insinuated it. “I made the comment that guys with touch-hunger fucked like masters.”
“How many?” he repeated.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I want to know.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m interested.”
“Why?”
Exasperation flickered across his face. “Will you just answer the question?”
She huffed. “Three.”
His back teeth locked, and his eyelids drooped slightly. “Did any of them mark you?”
“Why?”
“Bailey.”
“No, jeez.” As of tonight, he’d bitten her twice. The back of her shoulder still smarted from where he’d renewed his bite. Other than that, he hadn’t marked her again.
She was covered in fingerprint bruises, though. Which was really only to be expected, given how wild things got between them. There was plenty of grabbing and hauling and squeezing.
He rolled onto his side to face her. “Why aren’t you pissed that I marked you?”
