nipples peaked, and she shivered.
“Fine. You’re not. You’re cold.” He placed the tray on an oversized ottoman that also served as her coffee table.
“It’s just from being all toasty and...nekkid,” she said, trying to make him smile.
It almost worked.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, serious as a heart attack. Making light felt sinister to her.
“Thank you.” Rayka did her best to not follow with a normal self-deprecating statement. Just thank you. Nothing more.
He nodded. Happy with her response. “Hungry?” He shifted his gaze, but Rayka could still feel that unnamed emotion. The tension that wasn’t quite tension but something she couldn’t place.
“Starved. What do you have? What did you make me?” She smiled and her stomach grumbled at having to wait. “See. Starved.”
“Grilled cheese, tomato soup, iced tea, and some chocolate.”
“From your store?”
“Of course.” He turned and put his finger on her bottom lip and pushed her mouth open. Then he tore off a piece of sandwich and placed it on her tongue.
Rayka chewed and then, “Oh, God. That’s good. That’s not grilled cheese. That’s...” The bread was flaky, buttery and crisp. The cheese rich but sharp. Another, smoother flavor accented the sharper cheese.
“It is so. It’s aged sharp cheddar with a very thin layer of cream cheese on buttered white bread with a dash of garlic powder. Now soup.”
He put the spoon to her lips and she took in the rich, red soup. No surprise now, it was doctored up to be ten times better than regular old canned soup. He watched her face intently. “Well?” His voice very soft. So soft at times she had to strain to hear him over the crack and hiss of the burning fire.
“I need you to teach me to do this. So much better than half-burnt grilled cheese and watery yet lumpy soup.” She let him spoon another bite into her mouth and swallowed. She felt warm, both outside and inside. Deacon leaned in and kissed her. Long and slow, the kiss spread that warm feeling throughout her arms and legs.
“I’m glad you stayed,” she said without thinking.
Deacon ran his tongue along her bottom lip and tasted her. He set the soup on the tray and pushed his hands under the quilt. He ran his palms over her hot, naked skin. Being wrapped in the big cover had left her hot to the touch, but the air from the room felt cold. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Why would you?” Rayka bit her lip at the way his face colored and grew even more serious.
“Because I don’t fuck and leave. And I didn’t know I gave off that impression.”
“You don’t, “she stammered. “It’s just me. The last guy I dated, he seemed like the kind to stay and the first time...well, the only time—”
“As it should have been,” he said gruffly and hauled her onto his lap. She could feel his cock, hard and ready again, through his jeans. It rode the cleft of her sex, and now when she bit her lip it was for a different reason. Rayka felt a flush start in her cheeks as he pulled her close and bit gently on the slope of her collar bone. Then he bit even harder where her neck met her shoulder. A spark of pleasure mixed with pain shot through her, and she gasped.
“I’m not going anywhere, Rayka.” His hands took a quick tour, and then he was tugging at his fly and she was helping. He settled her down on him again. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of the feel of him, how his cock felt stretching her, filling her. She already felt sore and used, but in the best kind of way. Her tender flesh accepted him again, and she sighed.
“I have plans to stick around for a very long time,” he said and then bit her again. It was the hardest bite of all, and she felt her flesh bruise even as her cunt clenched around him. The bruise on the back of her neck from early thumped in sympathy.
The orgasm rolled through her, pushed higher and then higher still by that bright, intense flash of pain. “You belong to me now,” he
“Fine. You’re not. You’re cold.” He placed the tray on an oversized ottoman that also served as her coffee table.
“It’s just from being all toasty and...nekkid,” she said, trying to make him smile.
It almost worked.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, serious as a heart attack. Making light felt sinister to her.
“Thank you.” Rayka did her best to not follow with a normal self-deprecating statement. Just thank you. Nothing more.
He nodded. Happy with her response. “Hungry?” He shifted his gaze, but Rayka could still feel that unnamed emotion. The tension that wasn’t quite tension but something she couldn’t place.
“Starved. What do you have? What did you make me?” She smiled and her stomach grumbled at having to wait. “See. Starved.”
“Grilled cheese, tomato soup, iced tea, and some chocolate.”
“From your store?”
“Of course.” He turned and put his finger on her bottom lip and pushed her mouth open. Then he tore off a piece of sandwich and placed it on her tongue.
Rayka chewed and then, “Oh, God. That’s good. That’s not grilled cheese. That’s...” The bread was flaky, buttery and crisp. The cheese rich but sharp. Another, smoother flavor accented the sharper cheese.
“It is so. It’s aged sharp cheddar with a very thin layer of cream cheese on buttered white bread with a dash of garlic powder. Now soup.”
He put the spoon to her lips and she took in the rich, red soup. No surprise now, it was doctored up to be ten times better than regular old canned soup. He watched her face intently. “Well?” His voice very soft. So soft at times she had to strain to hear him over the crack and hiss of the burning fire.
“I need you to teach me to do this. So much better than half-burnt grilled cheese and watery yet lumpy soup.” She let him spoon another bite into her mouth and swallowed. She felt warm, both outside and inside. Deacon leaned in and kissed her. Long and slow, the kiss spread that warm feeling throughout her arms and legs.
“I’m glad you stayed,” she said without thinking.
Deacon ran his tongue along her bottom lip and tasted her. He set the soup on the tray and pushed his hands under the quilt. He ran his palms over her hot, naked skin. Being wrapped in the big cover had left her hot to the touch, but the air from the room felt cold. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Why would you?” Rayka bit her lip at the way his face colored and grew even more serious.
“Because I don’t fuck and leave. And I didn’t know I gave off that impression.”
“You don’t, “she stammered. “It’s just me. The last guy I dated, he seemed like the kind to stay and the first time...well, the only time—”
“As it should have been,” he said gruffly and hauled her onto his lap. She could feel his cock, hard and ready again, through his jeans. It rode the cleft of her sex, and now when she bit her lip it was for a different reason. Rayka felt a flush start in her cheeks as he pulled her close and bit gently on the slope of her collar bone. Then he bit even harder where her neck met her shoulder. A spark of pleasure mixed with pain shot through her, and she gasped.
“I’m not going anywhere, Rayka.” His hands took a quick tour, and then he was tugging at his fly and she was helping. He settled her down on him again. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of the feel of him, how his cock felt stretching her, filling her. She already felt sore and used, but in the best kind of way. Her tender flesh accepted him again, and she sighed.
“I have plans to stick around for a very long time,” he said and then bit her again. It was the hardest bite of all, and she felt her flesh bruise even as her cunt clenched around him. The bruise on the back of her neck from early thumped in sympathy.
The orgasm rolled through her, pushed higher and then higher still by that bright, intense flash of pain. “You belong to me now,” he
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