Page 41 of Dibs
“Hard,” I beg.
With every thrust of Deacon’s powerful hips, he finds a spot in me that makes me gasp and squeeze my eyes shut, pleasure surging through my veins until I’m hardly rooted to reality. I’m just Deacon’s, living for every press of him againstthatspot.
“Just like that, Deac,” I whimper, my voice thick with need.
Deacon hits the right spot again and again until all coherent thoughts leave my head and there is only feeling.
“You like that?”
“God, yes,” I whine between pants and then move his hand to my breasts where I need his touch.
A sob rises out of the depths of me. This connection between us is the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. My heart is in his hands. I want to stay joined like this forever, but I know Deacon’s getting close. His hands leave my nipples and reach around my ass as he lifts my hips and slides more easily in and out of me, pistoning himself fast as I mumble in delirious pleasure. My heart rate spirals out of control as I give everything in me, every part of me, over to this man, trusting him entirely.
When Deacon gives one last powerful thrust and spurts deep inside of me, I scream out, too. We come together, my body giving in to the sensations racing through me without hesitation. His hand rubs my clit, expertly prolonging my orgasm, stretching out the bliss over minutes instead of seconds,while my body spasms and tightens everywhere. I close my eyes and hold on through the waves of pleasure that ripple through me ceaselessly until I’m limp. Deacon is groaning, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as he gives a few last thrusts, neither of us eager to be finished with our first time.
Deacon finally flips off me, tugs me to his side, and holds me until I stop shaking. I tuck my face against his neck, my breathing still uneven.
All I can think is,holy shit, that was so intense.I marvel at the fact that, this whole time, I haven’t thought of Sean once.
I glance over at Deac’s face as he lies resting with his eyes closed, wearing an unmistakable look of joy that matches how I feel. His eyes crinkle around the corners, and all I can think to do is inch up and kiss him all over his face, including his little smile lines.
“I feel so lucky to have you, baby.” I voice the only thought that runs through my mind before I press my mouth to his in the gentlest of kisses.
“No, Beck. I’m the luckiest.”
22
DEACON
It’s nearly November, and the winter dreariness has set in, so I’m cuddled up in bed early with the fireplace blazing, Beck reading one of her naughty books next to me. If I’m lucky, she’ll feel like reenacting a scene from one of them.
My brother Steele calls me to congratulate me on “finally winning Aspyn’s heart,” which he’d heard through “the grapevine.” I hadn’t been the one to tell him. Frankly, I’ve been so wrapped up being in love with Beck that I’ve hardly talked to my family much lately. I’m far too occupied with having my dream girl to keep anything else on my radar right now. I should feel guilty, but I don’t.
“Listen, I have a bunch of boxes of your old things I helped Dad clean out of the basement. Books, mementos, Spiderman sheet sets, the whole nine. How about I bring them by tomorrow afternoon?”
“That would be great.”
“I also took the jewelry safe from the closet. You mentioned that Aspyn took a lot of the jewelry, like we know Mom intended, so maybe she can use the safe for those pieces?” Steele suggests.
“Sure. Sounds great, bro. Did the sisters-in-law go through the rest of the jewelry, sunglasses, hats, and everything else?” I reach over and kiss Beck’s cheek while she’s immersed in her book, and she pushes my face away with a giggle.
I do manage to wrench her from the book eventually, after I pluck it from her hands and read a very sexy scene aloud. Then, Beck jumps my bones, and I enjoy every second of it.
The next day,Steele arrives by 4 p.m. with boxes upon boxes, which we haul up to the primary bedroom. Beck sits on the bed, telling us she’ll “oversee” the operation.
Now, I’m standing in the middle of the room, looking around at all the boxes, a bit bewildered. Steele throws himself into the recliner in the sitting area portion of the bedroom and yawns like he’s just hiked a mountain.
“Big job,” Steele tells me, arching a well-manicured brow at me, making the understatement of the year. I put my hands on my hips and sighed.
“How does Dad seem to you?” I ask Steele as I open a duct-taped box full of thrillers.
“Like a man who lost his wife way too soon and isn’t ready to face his grief.” Steele sighs.
“Fuck.” I’d gotten the same feeling. “Any offers on the house? I know he just put it on the market Tuesday.”
“They’re starting the showings today, which is why I hauled all this shit away for him a couple days ago. He said he had a long way to go on the house and was hiring a cleaning team. Made me feel bad. I had to work Thursday and Friday, or I would have done it for him.”
“I could’ve helped,” Beck speaks up, sounding disappointed not to have been asked. “If Tom ever needs something, I’m here. Please remember that.”
