Caged (Mastered, #4)(102)
“You’re—this feels so f*cking perfect. I ain’t gonna last.” His strokes became quicker.
Sweat coated his body and a few drops landed on her chest. She wanted to lick the rivulet of sweat running down the cord straining in his neck. She wanted to rub her palms over his damp head, making them slick with his sweat and his scent.
His deep grunt of satisfaction was her only warning before the first warm spurt hit her chin. She tilted her head back, and the next jets of come dotted her neck.
Deacon slid his cock down, and the final offering splatted across her chest below her collarbones.
She looked up at him. Witnessing the pure male possession in his eyes and the sexy twist of his lips . . . In that moment he owned her.
He scooted all the way down her body and plunged his cock into her. He didn’t move or thrust; he just remained still. Then his face was above hers. His tongue darted out, and he licked the come from her chin before he smashed his mouth to hers, sharing his taste and his passion for her in a kiss that left her no doubt the man loved her.
Molly’s hips shot up, and she dropped her arm down to get a handful of his ass. She tightened her * muscles as her sex pulsed around his shaft in three short bursts.
Deacon continued to kiss her, making no effort to get off of her. But chances were good that body fluids had stuck them together anyway.
Then the crazy man rolled them. After he dislodged his cock, he pushed on her shoulders, setting her upright. “On your knees, babe, and hold tight to that headboard. I’m gonna eat this cunt until you scream my name.”
“Deacon—omigod, what are you doing?” He’d slid between her thighs and pushed them apart so her wet * practically covered his face. He had to be suffocating.
He turned his head and bit her thigh. “If you can still talk, then I’m doin’ something wrong. Lower your hips.”
“But—”
He slapped her ass. Hard. “Do. It.”
Holding on to the headboard gave her a sense of unbalance, so she dropped to her hands and widened her knees.
Then his warm mouth suctioned to her *. Deacon’s sucking lips and flicking tongue worked her over to the point verbal communication became limited to “yes, more, don’t stop” and a few moans and gasps.
And screams.
Yes, the man made her come so hard the first time she’d screamed. The second time . . . she couldn’t make any noise at all because she’d forgotten how to breathe. The third time he’d done something with his teeth on her clit and his thumb in her ass that . . . Yeah. No words could describe that orgasm beyond epic.
After she’d flopped on the mattress beside him, she assumed they’d take a minute.
But Deacon’s damp face and wet mouth were immediately on her nipples.
“You’re obsessed with them,” she said with a soft wheeze.
“I’m obsessed with you. These are just attached to you.”
She reached down and stroked his sleek head. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For showing me that multiple orgasms and collapsing into a sticky pile after phenomenal sex isn’t a myth.”
“My pleasure.” Deacon looked up at her. “This makeup-sex shit is pretty f*cking awesome. But, babe, I’m hoping we never have to do it again.”
“Me too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DEACON insisted on walking Molly into the office Monday morning, so Chaz, Presley, and Amery understood they were back together.
Not that anyone would mistake the lingering kiss he left her with as anything but possessive.
Molly had poured herself a cup of coffee when Amery sidled in for a refill. “Morning, Amery.”
“Morning, Molly. Got a second to talk?”
“I don’t suppose you want to discuss the Wicksburg Farm account?”
“No, I don’t suppose I do.”
Great. “Sure. I’ll be right in.”
She took a couple of deep breaths after Amery walked away.
Presley intercepted her. “You don’t think you and Deacon getting back together rates a phone call to me?”
“If Deacon and I had left his bedroom at all yesterday, I would’ve called.”
Her eyes went as wide as her grin. “You’re not joking about spending all day in bed, are you?”
“No.”
“But things are good?”
Molly grinned back. “Very. And I promise we’ll talk as soon as the boss is done grilling me.” She headed straight for Amery’s office and shut the door behind her.
Amery checked out Molly’s outfit. Since Molly hadn’t been home since Saturday afternoon, she’d paired the spare pair of black jeans she’d found in her workout bag with the sequined silver tank top she’d worn beneath her western shirt to Katie’s party Saturday night. She’d finished the outfit with one of Deacon’s crisp white dress shirts, knotted at the waist. “That’s a funky outfit, Mol. You look good.”
“Thanks. I feel good.” Molly settled in the visitor’s chair and crossed her legs—a move she couldn’t have done a year and a half ago, before she started working out.
“Did your conversation with Ronin on Friday prompt you into giving Deacon another chance?”