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Fuck, now he thinks I’m about to freak out again.
“I don’t know,” I manage to rasp out. “Can’t decide.”
“Ah, so it’s my choice,” he says, and I can hear the note of anticipation in his voice. I can picture his eyes gleaming with excitement. “In that case, I choose all of the above.”
Before I have a chance to wonder how he’s possibly going to get through that list, his fingers are gone from my ass and I only have a second to breathe before his tongue is back.
On cue, the whimpering and moaning starts again and I can feel the vibration of Deacon’s laugh against my ass. Part of me feels completely pathetic to be reduced to this keening mess, but at the same time I know that Deacon enjoys it and I like making him happy, even if it’s completely against my will.
“Deacon, please…”I beg. “Please, fuck…I need…”
I don’t even know what I’m begging for. I have no idea what I need right now. My mind is a complete haze and my body has once again taken over, pressing back against Deacon’s mouth.
He seems to know what I need, however, even if I don’t, and a moment later his tongue thrusts inside me, sending bolts of that intoxicating pleasure coursing through me. It’s just as overwhelming and unbearable as earlier, but I still don’t want it to stop.
My arms finally give way and my front half collapses onto the mattress. I bury my head against the comforter, moaning and gasping as my body trembles.
Deacon pulls away from my ass and I hear him let out a soft chuckle. “That happened quicker than I thought. You didn’t come as well, did you?”
“No,” I gasp out. “Need to.”
“You’re going to come down my throat once I’m done with you. We already decided this.”
We did? Fuck, why is my brain not working?
I feel Deacon’s hands gripping my waist, and then I’m being shoved over onto my back. He straightens up and stares down at me, dark eyes full of lust. “Jesus, you’re a fucking mess.”
“Your tongue’s been in my ass for days,” I groan. Fuck, I want it back there. After that onslaught of overwhelming intensity I feel completely bereft now.
Deacon flashes a wry grin. “Not quite that long, but you’re giving me ideas.” He turns to the nightstand and opens the drawer, retrieving the box of condoms and tube of lube I keep there.
I watch him as he rolls the condom onto his hard cock and then adds some lube, glad to have a brief moment to collect myself.
“Do you think you need more prep?” Deacon asks me, holding up the lube.
I shake my head. “I’m good.” There’s no way I could handle having his fingers in me right now, and I think a bite of pain as he enters me will probably be a good thing in my current state.
“I was going to keep you on your hands and knees, but I don’t think you’re up for that,” he says with a smirk. “Don’t worry, though, I remember the deal. And you can close your eyes if you need—I won’t take it personally.”
I offer a grateful smile, once again marveling at the seamless shift from the bossy alpha to the sweet, caring guy who’s always so sensitive to my needs, even when they conflict with his own.
I don’t have much time to dwell on those thoughts, because Deacon swiftly moves into action. He climbs up onto the bed and grabs a pillow, stuffing it under my back. Then he spreads my legs out and kneels in front of me.
“You don’t have any groin or hamstring issues do you?” Deacon asks me once he’s satisfied that I’m positioned where and how he wants me.
My brows shoot up. “No.”
“Good,” he says with a smirk. “I’d hate to do anything that might put you out of action. I’ve got big plans for you.”
Before I have a chance to wonder why he’s concerned about flaring up an old injury, he grabs my legs and tosses them over his shoulders, almost bending me in half as he leans forward to drive inside me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I groan. The burn as he thrusts into me is worse than I’d expected, but it’s not unwelcome. After all the new and intense sensations from earlier, I feel like I’m back on familiar ground. For the most part, at least. The sensation of being filled and fucked is one I know well, and with Deacon in particular I feel like I get to know him better every time we’re together. Each time has been completely different, but the way he feels inside me is the same. The way he moves is the same. The connection between us is the same.
I snap my gaze open so I can look at him, realizing that even though I’ve admired his powerful, muscular body before, I’ve never actually seen it in action. I’ve felt it, but never actuallyseenit.
I’m surprised to find his own eyes closed, his face a mask of tension. Is he trying to hold back an orgasm? Or maybe this is how he always looks during sex? The only other time we were face-to-face we spent the whole time with our mouths fused together.
I brush the thoughts away and take the opportunity while I’m unobserved to soak in the sight of Deacon’s hard muscles straining and flexing as he fucks into me in hard, powerful strokes.
