My eyes opened and I saw skin. Sleek olive skin covering defined muscle.
Deacon.
More precisely, Deacon’s back.
I was on my side, Deacon was on his, and I was tucked tight to his back.
Seeing what I saw, smelling nothing but the scent that was pure Deacon, having him there, morning two, after denying that I wanted him for what felt like eternity, I immediately got wet with wanting more of him.
Unfortunately, at the same time I remembered that he’d said the night before that he was wiped.
I was an early riser and didn’t even have to look at the clock, just note that dawn was barely touching the sky, and even though we went to bed way early, it was also now way early.
So, as much as I wanted to put my hands on him, wake him up, coax him into making love to me, I needed to let him sleep.
Therefore, carefully, I rolled away from him, cautiously moving the covers so I wouldn’t disturb him too much or give him a shot of cold as I got out of bed.
I didn’t make it.
Deacon rolled too, and his arm came out, hooking me around my belly and hauling me back into his frame.
“Where you goin’?” he growled sleepily into the back of my hair.
“Letting you sleep, old man,” I replied, hoping he’d get that with the last part, I was teasing.
He got it.
I knew with his unoffended response of, “Don’t need sleep.”
He also communicated what he did need, doing it by pressing his hips into my ass and I felt that at least one part of him was very awake.
“You got shit to do?” he asked, shoving his other hand under me as the arm already around me shifted, his hand trailing up my belly.
I always had shit to do, but truthfully, once I got the cabins the way I wanted them, outside of check out cleaning, since I didn’t provide daily maid service, managing eleven rental cabins wasn’t that taxing.
“Not really,” I answered.
“Good,” he muttered as his hands made it to their destinations, one curling around my breast, the other one cupping me between my legs.
I liked that. I liked the smell of him. I liked his heat. I liked that he was there with me. I liked all that so much, I pressed my hips back into his.
His hand between my legs pushed deeper, his fingers slipping through the wet folds, and my lips parted on a soft breath as my hips jerked slightly.
“Fuck. Ready,” he growled and kept doing it. “You good with ungloved?”
I was good with anything he wanted to do to me.
I didn’t say that.
I said, “Yes, baby.”
His finger and thumb at my breast rolled my nipple as I felt his body shift, position. I knew what he was doing, I liked what he was doing, all of it, so I tilted my hips to give him what he needed.
His cock slid through my wet, the tip caught, and he thrust in, fast, hard, deep, filling me.
My head went back and I moaned.
He pulled hard at my nipple then his hand slid up to my throat.