“Yes,” I breathed.
“Got a condom, baby?” he asked, his voice thick, rough, his body moving.
Fuck!
“No,” I told him, mind scattered, attention on his body, the shadow of his cock, his movements toward me and the hopes that my answer would not end things prematurely.
We’d get creative.
Hell, to get an orgasm from Deke, I’d kick the shit out of creative.
He bent to me. Shoving an arm between my waist and the bed, I was up against him. He put a knee in the bed and crawled into it, over it, dropping me to it and him to me, giving me substantial weight as he reached over the side.
Then his weight was gone from me. He was up on the bed on his knees, one on either side of my right thigh. He had his wallet. Then he tossed his wallet. Then I heard foil tearing.
And after that, I watched the second sexiest five seconds I’d ever seen.
Deke on his knees in my bed rolling a condom on his thick, long cock.
I was salivating and trembling and completely at a loss of what to do because I wanted my hand wrapped around his dick. I also wanted my finger at my clit. I further wanted his nipple against my tongue, his hair in my hands, his mouth on mine…it went on to infinity.
I didn’t get the chance to decide. Again I had his arm around my waist and I was up, swung around, my legs automatically circling his hips as he twisted us so he was facing the headboard, I had my back pointed that way.
“Position me,” he ordered.
I needed no explanation for his instruction.
My hand darted between us as I started falling back. I wrapped my fingers around his rock-hard cock, slid the head through my wet to where it needed to be, and he glided in, my hand shifting out, as he put me to my back in bed and covered me.
Connected to me.
God, he felt good deep inside.
God, so fucking good.
“Baby,” I whispered.
He started moving, slow and sweet, dipping his head, trailing his tongue up a tendon of my neck to my ear.
“Like you were made for me,” he whispered there on an inward glide, settling deep, so damned deep, and then gently grinding.
His words, the feel of him, everything about him, finally having Deke inside me, I felt tears sting my eyes as I wrapped him up, arms and legs, held him close, one hand drifting up and into his hair.
Deke was covering me.
Deke was inside me.
Deke was made for me.
“Need you to get ready, gypsy,” he said in my ear. “That tight, wet heat, need it.”
I turned my head and found his ear with my lips. “Take it.”
He started stroking in and out with his cock.
It was slow, gentle, but his mouth warned, “I let go, might get rough. You say, baby. One word, I slow it down.”
His voice was tighter, almost straining, his hips moving faster, but not rougher.
He needed to fuck me.
And I needed him to fuck me.
“Take what you want, Deke.”
He shifted a leg, drawing up his knee, this pushing him even deeper on an inward slide and I gasped again, holding him tighter.
But he didn’t let go and fuck me.
“Deke—”
“Brace, Jussy.”
I held tighter.
“Deke—”
“One word, baby, I slow it down.”
“Please, Deke.” I dug my nails in where my hand was at the small of his back. “Just fuck me.”
His body stilled, half in, half out.
He was making me crazy!
I opened my mouth before another, deeper, lower rumble of thunder rolled from him through me.
And Deke let go.
His thrusts were so powerful, his body so huge, taking me with them, I had to lift a hand to the headboard and push against it so he didn’t drive me up into it.
This was not a bad thing because it meant I also drove down into him.
The base of his hard cock slamming against my sensitive clit, that cock belonging to Deke finally inside me, in only a few strokes, I turned my face into his neck.
I pressed it in, tensed against him with every inch of me, inside and out, heard his approving growl of, “Christ, yeah, baby,” before my head flew back into the pillows and I cried out as I came.
Hard.
Hard and for what seemed like forever. Deke powering deep, grunting now, my body lurching with each thrust, I whimpered and gasped. Automatically lifting a hand to grip his hair tight in my fist, I shuddered through the best, longest and most intense orgasm by far I’d had in my life.
I was only just coming down, consciousness coming back to that bed, that room, my body loosening naturally in his hold as the climax drifted out when it tensed again because I felt his teeth sink hard into the soft flesh that was just down from where my shoulder met my neck. He buried himself inside me before his head jerked back and I watched in the moonlight as the muscles in his neck strained and he jerked as his hips ground into mine when he came.
His lasted a long time too.
And it topped both the other two sexiest things Deke had given me that I’d ever witnessed and not only because it lasted a whole lot longer than five seconds.
Finally, his big body sagged on mine, his neck bent deep, face in mine, and we both lay there, connected, both our labored breathing the only thing I could hear.
Yes, that was all I could hear and it might have been the sweetest music ever to hit my ears.
Okay, maybe my poet’s soul knew what it was doing.
I felt his hand dig into the mattress along my back and up, fingers tangling in my hair as he lifted his head and immediately lowered it so he was kissing me, long, wet, and God, so damned Deke…sweet.
He ended the kiss and I shivered beneath him when he did it by scraping the edges of his top teeth against my lower lip at the same time he slowly slid out of me.
He dipped in and kissed the spot where he’d bitten me before he angled up and out of the bed, twitching the covers over my body.
I rolled to the side, curled into myself and laid there, watching another few seconds of sexy as he strolled through the dark into my bathroom.
Then I started smiling, slow at first until the smile felt so big on my face, it hurt.
Pain and pleasure.
This time it was the kind I liked.
I pushed up to my knees, turning to face the bathroom, sitting back on my calves and wrapping the sheet around me.
Deke didn’t turn on the light but I heard the toilet flush, the faucet go on and off and then I watched a Deke with his blond hair down around his shoulders, his body silvered by moonlight, his heavy thighs delectable, the rounded ridges of muscles around his knees mouth-watering, his now semi-hard cock still impressive.
He was close to the bed when I pulled my eyes from his dick and looked at his face.
“You so totally like me,” I declared.
I let out a shrill, girlie scream when he reached out a long arm and jerked the sheet away from me.
I emitted another girlie scream when I was again hooked at the waist with his arm and yanked up to slam into his body. He put a knee to the bed, twisted us, and I crashed into the mattress on my back with Deke on me, puffing out a breath at taking his weight and forcing focus on his face.
Not hard since it was right in mine.
His big hand cupped my jaw and he said, “Yeah, gypsy, I like you.”
I knew I was smiling big and happy when I corrected, “No, you so totally like me.”
Deke smiled back when he confirmed, “Yeah.”
That smile.
God.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, lifted up my head and gave him a hard, closed-mouth kiss.
I dropped back to the pillows and whispered, “You relaxed now, honey?”
“First thing in the morning run for condoms,” was his answer.
I kept smiling.
I had a feeling I could do that
without being grumpy.
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
Suddenly, he dropped his head and moved his hand from my jaw to the side of my neck so he could slide his lips surrounded by wiry whiskers from my chin to my ear, all this shooting tingles down my neck straight to my nipples. “Gonna get my shorts. Want you back in your PJs. Just because. Okay?”
Maybe he was relaxed, and he sounded it, no longer edgy.
But he wasn’t taking any chances and he didn’t want either of us naked on the off chance something happened.
I nodded. “Okay, Deke.”
He pulled us both out of bed, on our feet and handed me camisole, panties and shorts before he bent to retrieve his.
We dressed.
Deke pulled me back into bed, flicked the covers over us, and tucked me under him in our normal sleeping position.
But this time he lifted my hips, twisting them so I got the hint he wanted me to hook a knee around his thigh, something I did.
This gave him access to shove his fingers up my camisole at the small of my back and down into my shorts and panties, where he cupped my ass. Not a cheek. Right at the center so his middle finger was resting just inside the crease.
I bit my lip and shivered again.
“Go back to sleep, Jussy,” he ordered.
I pressed my hips against him. He pressed his hand deeper at my ass, his other arm pushing under me, curling around my back to hold me closer, and I shut my eyes.
“Just to make it official,” I whispered into his throat. “I like you too.”
I heard his soft chuckle and fell in love with that soft chuckle as I felt a warm squeeze at my back, an intimate one at my ass, and the stirring of my hair when he whispered back, “Good.”
I settled in, smiling, warm, sated and happy.
Deke Hightower so totally liked me.
On that thought, still smiling, I fell asleep.
* * * * *
With his restlessness the night before, it wasn’t a surprise that next morning, for the first time, I woke before Deke.
Nope, not a surprise.
What it was was more bounty.
Because this meant I could watch him sleeping.
His face lost years in sleep. Not boyish, exactly, but there were hard lines and edges I hadn’t really noticed when he was awake that smoothed out in sleep. They were around his eyes and at the set of his cheekbones, which I realized on close inspection were very high, like he had Native American blood or something. Even at his jaw, which was hidden mostly with his beard, but I noted a definite lack of tension there in the peace of sleep.
He had stubby eyelashes, but a lot of them, and there was a vulnerable beauty to them as they rested against his cheeks.
It was a fascinating display that fascinated me so I allowed myself to take it in for a long time.
Then the knowledge that it was morning, we were in my bed, safe, no return of the bad guy, this meant I was probably free of that threat…
And Deke liked me.
Not to mention he was good with his mouth, fingers and cock.
So I wondered why I laid there staring at his face when I could have been doing other things.
Thus I decided to do those other things.
Tracing the tip of my finger over his hip, I lifted up and touched my lips to his.
His head shifted slightly on the pillow, his arm gave me a light, reflexive squeeze, and then his stomach tensed as I trailed three fingertips over it, down it, and touched my tongue to his lower lip.
His eyes opened.
I smiled at him and flattened my hand on his lower stomach, pushing down, my fingertips now inside his shorts and resting at the upper base of his cock.
“Morning,” I whispered.
“No condoms,” he growled, and I knew why because I felt something happening against my fingertips.
I also felt my smile change.
I pressed that smile to his mouth and whispered, “Hand job, honey,” right before I wrapped his hardening cock with my fingers.
“Fuck,” he grunted, a word I felt drive up into my womb.
I hooked him steady with my leg around his thigh and stroked.
“Fuck,” he grunted again, his hips flexing.
I kept smiling.
And stroking.
“Hand job?” he asked, his morning voice rough with residual sleep and throaty with what I was doing to his cock.
Yes. That voice in the morning in my bed with me when he could do something about it (and so could I), just like I thought many weeks ago.
Heaven.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His hand then slid from where it was resting inside my shorts at the base of my back, around, down and in.
I released a small gasp against his lips.
“Okay, baby,” he agreed in a murmur.
We kept at each other, staring in each other’s eyes.
This happened closer when Deke was fully hard and something magical he did between my legs meant I spontaneously gave a fierce tug at his dick and his grunt sounded, his neck bending so his forehead was resting against mine and our harsh breathing mixed.
I was eventually riding his hand, not paying much mind to what I was doing with his cock I was so focused on what he was doing to my clit and pussy. I’d snaked my other hand up into his hair, twisting my fingers in it as he kept at me, now thrusting his cock into my tight fist.
“Deke, I—” I began my warning.
“Do it,” he ordered.
I shook my head, held his gaze and whispered, “I want you to come on me.”
I barely got that out or accomplished the blink his next moves caused before his hand was gone, my fingers were no longer around his cock, his shorts were history, I was on my back, my shorts and panties down to my thighs, and he was straddling me, taking over.
As in totally taking over.
God, he was sensory overload, especially vision. Jacking his cock, that chest, those thighs, his stomach, his blond hair hanging down to his shoulders, his hazel eyes burning down at me, his other hand shoved between my legs, working, breathtaking, driving me there.
“Deke,” I gasped.
“Top off,” he growled.
I yanked my top off, my hair flying. When I could give him back my eyes, I saw his on my hair before they cut to my face.
“Get there, Jussy,” he demanded.
I dug my nails into his thighs on either side and rode his fingers that were working me in the tight, drenched, hot space because he’d forced my legs together with him being astride me and my clothes hindering me.
It started coming.
“Oh God.”
“Get there,” he grunted.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, my eyes traveling everywhere, his strong hand around his big dick, his chest, his thick thighs, my nails sinking deep in the hard muscle there. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Deke,” I breathed, arching and coming.
Then doing it harder when I heard his groaned, “Yeah,” and felt the warm splash of him across my belly and on my breast, the powerful jerk of his body through his orgasm, somewhere in the far recesses of my mind wishing I could watch, somewhere in the warm region of my heart knowing I’d have another chance.
I finished only moments before he finished, dropping his forehead to mine, his hands curved around either side of my neck.
I opened my eyes to find his still closed.
Those eyelashes, God, a thing of beauty.
He opened his eyes.
And then there was more.
He said nothing, his breath still coming heavy.
I said nothing, my breath doing the same. But I put my hands to his hips that were distant as he remained kneeling over me, sliding them up to his waist, stroking there lazily with my fingertips.
It took a while but it finally occurred to me we were no longer recovering from our orgasms.
We also weren’t sharing a moment of connection. He was still up on his knees. The only parts of Deke touching
me were the sides of those knees, his hands at my neck, his forehead on mine.
We were close.
Yet he was still far.
My fingers stilled on his skin.
Deke just kept staring in my eyes.
“Deke?”
I used his name as a question.
“Just came on you.”
“I…yes,” I answered hesitantly.
Didn’t he like that? Was that too weird for him? It wasn’t weird, but for some it could be.
He seemed pretty freaking into it when I’d asked for it.
“Fucked you hard last night, took it, fuckin’ drove yourself into it, came for me while you did. It was you this morning wanted my cum on you,” he reminded me of things I very well knew.
“Does that…are you…” I fought against clearing my throat to battle a sudden onslaught of anxiety and finished, “Does that turn you off?”
He lifted his head an inch but didn’t take his hands from my neck.
“It seem to turn me off?” he asked.
“Uh…no,” I answered.
One of his hands shifted, so did his eyes, and while he watched, I felt his thumb sweep where he’d sunk his teeth into me last night right before his climax.
His gaze came back to mine.
“Took my mark,” he whispered, all three words were thick.
Thick with meaning.
Maybe even thick with emotion.
My fingers clutched his waist.
He slid his other hand down my chest, between my breasts, down, and my nails curled in when he slid his hand through his cum, smoothing it over my skin.
“Took my mark,” he repeated.
I was thinking I was getting him.
Still, my, “Yes,” was tentative.
His hand slid up and curled around my breast.
I bit my bottom lip.
Deke’s eyes watched.
God, he was turning me on again.
He looked back to me. “You run this hot all the time, gypsy?”
“Uh…not so far, until, well…obviously…um…”
I trailed off.
He got me.
And I knew this because he smiled.
Slow.
So fucking slow.
Cocky.
Totally goddamned cocky.
Hot.
Unbelievably smoking hot.
He ran a thumb hard over my nipple, that rocketing straight to my clit, my fingernails digging into his flesh, all while he erased the inch he’d put between our faces as he whispered, “You like me.”
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