Vicious Cycle (Vicious Cycle #1)(82)

Tears spilled over my cheeks at his words. “Deacon,” I moaned before I crashed my lips against his. Dropping my arms, I reached between us to the fly of his jeans. Frantically, I undid the button and zipper before pushing the fabric over his hips. Once his cock was free, Deacon grabbed me by the thighs. He hoisted me up, then impaled me. I cried out at the intense sensation of him filling me. He slowly withdrew before plunging even deeper into me. My nails scoured his back until I felt the blood well beneath them.

The clouds opened up, sending a deluge of rain pouring over us. The storm raged with thunder cracking across the sky, rattling the windows. Wind howled through the trees, drowning out our moans of pleasure and the slapping of our soaked skin.

“Lean back,” Deacon commanded. Obeying him, I released my hands from Deacon’s shoulders. They momentarily flailed until they made contact with the slippery iron railing. My new position gave him the leverage he needed to pump harder and harder inside me. As he bent over, his mouth sought out my breasts, alternating between the two to suckle the nipples into hardened points.

“Yes, Deacon, yes!” I cried as I gazed up at him.

He was Lazarus rising—rising over me as our bodies hastily joined in a raw communion. He was the darkness, and I was the light—we were the perfect storm of opposites, raging against each other in perfect harmony. We let the tempest overwhelm us as life and death had new meaning, and we had a resurrection and rebirth.

Crying out, I came hard, clenching around Deacon’s pumping cock. He followed shortly after me with a harsh groan. When the aftershocks finally started to fade, he pulled me up and wrapped his arms around me. “I love you,” he whispered.

Cradling his head in my hands, I said, “I love you, too.”

As he slid out of me, I hissed slightly at the burning inside me. His brows shot up in concern. “Was I too hard?”

“No. You were good. So good.”

Deacon gave me a cocky grin as he set me on my feet. When he glanced down between us, he suddenly winced. “Shit, I forgot a condom.”

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill.”

“You trust that I’m clean?” he asked almost incredulously.

While I probably should have been concerned, I nodded. “More than anything, I trust you.”

His expression grew serious. “You can’t imagine how much that means to me.”

“That I let you go bareback?”

“No, that a woman like you trusts a man like me.”

“Well, I do,” I replied, raking my fingers through his hair.

“I trust you, too. More than any other woman I’ve ever been with.” He knelt down before me to grab my robe off the floor. Using the silky material, he began to clean the evidence of our union off my thighs. When he finished, he rose back up to stare at me. The intensity in his eyes made me shiver. “One day I’d like you to go off the pill.”

“Is that right?”

He nodded. “I want to make a baby with you.”

I couldn’t help the wave of shock that ran through my body at his statement. It was the last thing in the world I’d imagined he would want, least of all say out loud. “Y-you do?” I finally stammered.

He nodded, his thumb tracing over my bottom lip. At what must have been the fear in my eyes, he said, “You’re not your past, Alexandra. You’re already the best mother anyone could ever be to Willow. You’re everything I could want when it comes to being the mother of my child.”

Tears stung my eyes at his words. “You’re the only man I want to father my children. As much as I love Willow, I want a piece of you and me together.”

He smiled. “You’ll have it. And when he gets here, I hope he takes after you instead of his old man.”

I hiccupped a laugh. “Him? What if it’s a girl?”

His enthusiasm dampened a little. “I’m not sure I can take another girl. Willow is like fifteen girls rolled into one.”

“Wait until she’s a teenager.”

Deacon threw his head back and groaned. “I can’t even f*cking think about that now.”

A teasing smile curved my lips. “For the way you’ve been with women, it would serve you right if you had a houseful of daughters.”

“You’re killing me, babe.”

Standing on my tiptoes, I brought my mouth to his. Deacon responded by wrapping his arms around my waist. Just as his tongue began to dance tantalizingly along mine, I broke away from him. “Having a baby together is a big commitment. Are you sure you know what you’re saying?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I sure as hell do. I ain’t some * who wants a bunch of baby mamas. I want one woman to raise my children.”

“Inside of marriage?”

He swallowed hard, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. If the conversation hadn’t been so serious, I might have laughed at his horrified expression. Finally, he drew in a ragged breath. “Yeah, I could see it within marriage.”

“You want to marry me someday?” I asked. Although there was a teasing lilt in my voice, my heartbeat fluttered wildly as I waited for his response.

Deacon cocked his brows at me while amusement danced in his eyes. “You fishing for a proposal, White-Bread?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”