Page 82 of Trust and Obey

I reached for Deacon’s cock, delighting in the weight of it in my hand.

I stroked him, and he stroked me from the inside, opening me up with a thorough precision that came with a solid week of dedicated practice. He knew my buttons by now, and he pressed all of them.

Sooner than I would have thought, I was hard again, rocking desperately back into his hand.

Deacon removed his fingers, silencing my protest with the hot kiss.

“Come on,” I whimpered, pulling at his hips, wanting him inside and filling me now.

He pressed on my shoulder, and I turned, face down, ass up for him. Sliding his body over mine until his breath gusted against my ear, he pushed into my body.

I felt covered by him, loved by him. Turning my head, I reached back to grab his chin. We kissed again, short and messy.

I let out a cry as he struck home.

He set a slow, deliberate pace, holding himself back and openly enjoying it.

After all, we had nowhere to be. There was no silent countdown to the end of a reservation. No coworkers were going to catch us, and no vindictive ex-wife to worry about. Just ourselves and our love and relief that we’d found each other again.

Deacon pulled out and I flipped over again, welcoming him back as he pushed in. Face-to-face, our fingers tangled with one another and every hard thrust drove pleasure home.

I rolled my hips to meet his, legs wrapped around him, so close to orgasm that I could taste it.

“Deacon please,” I gasped out.

Deacon dipped his head, his forehead, resting against my sternum. His movements took on that wild, out-of-control edge just when he reached his peak.

“I love you,” he gasped, and came hard with a rough cry that pushed me over the edge as well.

We came down together, legs tangled, fingers still intertwined.

Deacon and I exchanged lazy kisses. He reached up to trace the contours of my face with a finger.

“I love you,” he said softly. “Stay with me?”

I gave him a soft kiss and nuzzled closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We rested together like that, twined in every way possible.

As I slipped down into sleep, I remembered how I had started the previous week by exchanging a toast with Deacon over a drink.

“To the start of your very relaxing week.”

Now, in the back of my mind, I silently lifted my glass in a new toast: To the start of a new life.

24

DEACON

A FEW WEEKS LATER

The champagne cork came off with a sudden pop and a gushing of foam. Around me, my friends, close work associates, and family cheered.

Kendall grinned and started handing me fluted champagne glasses. I quickly poured before all the champagne ran out the top.

This was a very good vintage, and I didn’t want to waste it.

Once the glasses were passed around and quick appetizers brought in from the kitchen, the real work of talking and mingling began.

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