He loved me working him.
I loved that.
When he’d given me my orgasm, my excitement never left knowing what was to come. But at hearing his growl, my clit started pulsing.
The headboard started slamming into the wall.
And more pulsing.
“Hold on, honey,” I whispered into his ear then licked his neck.
“Twist and fuck, Cassie,” he ordered.
I knew what that meant. The next level, which was the level before I gave it all to him at the same time he gave it all to me.
Right then, though, I gave him what he needed.
“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, his head dropping forward, maybe because he couldn’t hold it up, probably because he liked to watch me jack his cock.
I would know it was the latter when he kept groaning as he said, “Love what you do to me.”
“Love it too, baby.”
“More. Harder. Jack me harder, Cassie.”
I tightened my fist on his cock and jacked him harder.
“Drive that fucker deep,” he demanded.
My pussy throbbing at his demand, twisting, I took his ass deep.
That was when I got his grunts.
I loved those most of all.
“That’s it, baby,” he groaned through the grunts. “Fuck me and jack me.”
“Long as you want, honey,” I whispered. Breathing hard against his neck, I latched on, suckled his flesh, and gave him more.
And I gave it to him as long as he wanted, Deacon fucking my fist and taking his plug deep.
Finally, he rumbled low, “Fill me.”
I knew what that meant, wanted what that meant, and shoved in the plug.
“Here,” he growled.
I moved but not quickly enough. He moved me. Lifting me, hands at my ass, back to the headboard, he slammed deep, his mouth on mine.
I wrapped my legs around his hips and sucked hard at his tongue.
I came almost instantly.
It took Deacon a couple of minutes to follow me.
When we were coming down, he kept one hand at my ass, the other arm he lifted to the middle of my back as he kissed me slow and started fucking me sweet.
He kept taking me gently when he broke the kiss, glided his lips to my neck, and asked there, “You good?”