She sucked in a breath, excitement thrumming through her now trembling body. “What do you have in mind?”
“I think you need a spanking for answering the door in nothing but a towel, for making my cock so hard when I had plans for us, for making me lose control.”
The ache between her legs was relentless, and she tried to squeeze them together, but Deke’s hands went to her thighs, fingers digging in, stopping her.
“Have you ever been spanked before, baby?”
She shook her head. “No.” Her voice sounded ragged, hungry.
The hand on her ass disappeared, then came down sharply. She cried out, but not in pain, not really. He hadn’t hit her hard, just enough for a slight sting. He smoothed his palm over the point of contact, and the sting vanished quickly, leaving a dull ache that seemed to be connected directly to her clit. She whimpered and lifted her ass higher.
Deke chuckled. “Like that, do you?”
“Yes.”
The air in the room changed instantly, became electric. “Does my dirty girl want another one?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Fuck, baby.” All playfulness had left his voice. Then he did it again. And again, until she was so turned on her thighs were slick and she was panting, hanging onto the table like a lifeline.
“I need you,” she rasped.
His hand vanished, and a second later she felt the hot head of his cock brushing her ass cheek, sliding down the cleft. “Gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll still feel me while I’m gone. You won’t forget who this beautiful body belongs to.”
Her inner muscles contracted at the rough, needy sound of his voice. His words should piss her off, but instead they turned her on more. She didn’t know what that said about her, and right then she didn’t care. If she didn’t have him inside her soon, she’d dissolve into a desperate puddle at his feet. “God, Deke, do me already.”
He laughed, the sound dark and full of sensual promise. She felt another rush of liquid heat slick her thighs, and she knew he saw it when the laugh broke off into a groan and he cursed under his breath.
“Shit. Hold on.” Wrapping his arm around her hips, he slid the head of his cock through her folds, then slammed up inside her.
“Ahh.” She gripped the edge of the table, pushing back.
“So fucking perfect,” he rasped, planted deep, grinding against her ass. “You’re so tight. You were made to take my cock, Alex, only mine.”
His rough words were crude and arrogant as hell, but they did things to her, really good things. She loved all the deliciously dirty stuff that came out of his mouth when he was turned on, buried inside her. Loved how the polish, the controlled businessman dissolved when he had her pinned beneath him.
He slid out almost completely, then thrust back into her, tilting his hips so he hit her just right every damn time. She barely kept her footing, high on her toes, and had to use the strength in her arms to push back, absorbing every brutal thrust. He pounded into her, his deep grunts of pleasure, the wet, arousing sound of his cock moving in and out of her ringing in her ears. She arched her back, circled her hips, and he hissed out a sharp breath.
“Can you feel how deep I am?” he gritted out. “All mine.”
He changed rhythm, his thrusts deep and slow, and she whimpered, so close. “Deacon…please.”
His fisted her hair, still buried deep inside, and forced her to turn her head. “Say it.”
She knew what he wanted to hear. She also knew what saying it would cost her. But right then she was powerless to fight his hold over her. “Y-yes. I’m yours.”
He made a sound between a growl and groan, then withdrew and slammed back in. Her inner walls quivered, right on the edge. “That’s right. And no one touches what’s mine, do they, Alex?”
“No,” she gasped.
He released her hair and gripped her hips, increasing the speed of his thrusts. God, still so deep. She knew he was right—she would feel him for days, and she loved that idea, wanted to feel him every time she moved, every time she sat down. One of his hands came around, cupping her between the legs, teasing her clit. He pressed down firmly, then circled her slowly.
His other hand slid under her, over her belly, up to her ribs, then lifted her so her back was flush against his chest. The small buttons of his shirt pressed into her bare skin, making the whole thing hotter somehow. He reached up and cupped her breast, massaging her oversensitive flesh. “Come for me, Alex. I want to feel you squeeze my cock nice and tight.”
At those needy words rasped against her ear, she had no choice but to obey, crying out his name as wave after wave of intense pleasure slammed through her. Deacon’s thrusts became erratic, then he planted himself and came, shot after shot hitting her deep, setting off tiny aftershocks. He groaned against her hair, his body shaking behind her.
If he hadn’t been holding her upright, she would have fallen on her ass.
He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head to the side so he could see her face. “All right?”
He slid from her body, and she nodded, turned in his arms so she could rest her hands on his chest. “Well, I think you got what you wanted. I’ll be feeling you for days.”
Those warm hands slid down her back to cup her butt and squeezed. “Good. My work here is done.”
“You’re such a Neanderthal.”
He shrugged. “I’ve told you before, I don’t share. I wanted to leave you with a reminder.”
She tensed. Okay, that stung. She’d promised not to sleep with anyone else, but it was obvious he didn’t trust her. This wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, accused her of looking elsewhere. She pulled away and tried to back up, but he grabbed her upper arms and held her where he wanted her.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” He frowned, looking genuinely confused. “Why are you pulling away?”
She crossed her arms. “You’re obviously used to sleeping with lying bimbos. So I’m gonna spell it out for you. When I make a promise, I keep it. I said I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else during our arrangement, and I meant it. You need to stop with the accusations.”
He dragged her up against him. “I know that. I do.”
“You sure about that? Cause I’m kinda getting the impression you think I’ll jump on the first dick that pops up in front of me.”
He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not you. I just hate that I have to go away. I’m taking my crappy mood out on you.”
She wasn’t buying it—there was more to it, a hell of a lot more, but she decided to leave it alone. He was going away, and she didn’t want to argue before he left. So instead she smiled up at him. “How can you be pissed after that?” She tilted her head toward the table, and he chuckled.
“Because now I want more of you and I know I can’t have you. Not till I get back.” The sincerity in his gaze made her chest tight. She could see more than just lust, there was warmth and affection there as well. Don’t read more into it.
They had a long history. The look in his eyes said nothing more than that, meant nothing more than a shared past with his kid sisters’ best friend. And that’s how she wanted it, right? Fuck buddies. She could do that. She’d been momentarily thrown off course, had let those old feelings, the sad kid with the stupid crush, rear their head. This was nothing. It was fun, a mutually beneficial agreement and nothing more.
Deacon had made his feelings about commitment and relationships clear, and she didn’t want more than that from him, didn’t want more than that from anyone. Suddenly she felt lighter than she had all week. She didn’t need to get all twisted up in knots about this. It was simple. Fun.
She grinned up at him. “How about I cook you dinner when you get back? Would that improve your mood?”
He smiled wide, flashing white teeth and his elusive dimple that only made an appearance when he was really happy. “I’d love that.”