Detonation.

It was the only word that rolled around in his mind as his wife came under his mouth. She shuddered and her nails dug into his wrists. As if he would ever let her go as she shook and scrabbled for him. Not a chance in hell.

Her taste was beyond temptation.

It was the ocean and love. It was lust and fire. It was everything and he couldn’t get enough. He delved deeper for more, licking along the oh so swollen tissues as she surged under him.

Finally, he clicked back in and shucked his pants and shirt to get on top of her. He tried to roll her over on top of him, but she wasn’t interested. Grasping, greedy fingers dug into his shoulders as her legs came around his hips.

“Deacon.”

Her voice was harsh and rough. The tones so different than her usual sleepy orgasm voice. She sounded almost in pain.

He braced his arms on either side of her face. “Shhh, baby.”

She squirmed under him, grinding her swollen pussy over his shaft. He groaned, trying to rein in the part that wanted inside. Trying to swim to the surface even as he wanted only to drown in her skin and the hot center of her that always felt like home.

Harper’s nails nipped over his back to his ass. “Inside.”

“Over me,” he said raggedly. He didn’t trust himself right now. Her taste filled his mouth, her scent was a moment away from ruling his brain.

And the sounds she was making were like nothing he’d heard before.

He grabbed her hand and pushed it over her head, lacing their fingers. When her other became just as recklessly biting, he dragged it up and stared down at her.

High color stained her cheeks and her eyes were too wide.

“Slow down, baby.”

She shook her head and rolled her hips till just the tip of his cock slid inside of her. “Yes.” Her fingers tightened over his until they were palm to palm. She rose up, her mouth on his neck, her tongue flicking under his chin and then nipping over to his ear. All of the places she knew to get him off.

“Now, inside me now.”

Harper, under him. Begging for him.

He canted his hips forward and groaned, pressing his face into the mattress beside her neck. All the places inside of her that were made for him gripped and sucked him deeper.

She closed her legs around his hips, her heels digging into his back as she rose up under him. Her name was a choked litany of gasps as he gave in.

As if he could ever deny her.

He drove inside of her, his brain shutting down as her slick heat welcomed him again and again. Sweat raced down his back, dripped from his temple and pooled between them. He lost himself to that dark, secret part of him that reveled in her giving body. In finding ways to make her scream his name. He gritted his teeth against the shout drawing up from his spine and pushing against his ribs.

The roar that owned him when he let go.

She was the only one he allowed to see this side of him. Afraid of them as much as he lived for these moments. He rose over her, pinning her hands over her head so that her full, gorgeous breasts were stretched up, the tips a dark raspberry with her excitement.

Meeting the wildness living in her eyes, unable to look away, he pistoned his hips against her welcoming open legs. He let her hands go to hook his arms under her knees.

Needing more.

Needing to be deeper.

He opened her wider, until she allowed every last inch inside her sweet, perfect pussy.

She scrabbled up the bed and he chased her with unerring thrusts. Harper reached for the wide headboard and held on, pushing back on each of his thrusts.

She was there, just on the edge, but she didn’t seem to have the ability to go over. And God, she needed to. His name a sob in her throat. He slid lower, pulling back to get down to her and make her come with his mouth, but she grabbed a fistful of his hair, dragging his mouth to hers. “Just you.” She snapped her jaws tight until he could see the ache as much as feel it. “I need you filling me up. Please, Deacon.”

He nodded and rolled her onto her side, splaying one thigh over his hip as he surged up and inside her from behind. He brought his hand down to where they were joined. She was so swollen that she shuddered and thrashed at his touch.

He tried to be gentle, but she covered his hand with her own until the friction was a hair’s breadth away from cruel. She’d become impossibly wetter now, so much so he had trouble staying inside her without a concentrated effort. He pressed his forehead into her neck and bit down on her shoulder. Anything to find that spot she so obviously needed. The slow shudder started and he held on. His thrusts deep and punishing. He was too far gone to hold back.

She closed around him, the grip driving him mad. He had to come. He had to finish or they’d die right here in this bed.

Lungs on fire, his abs shaking with each mini-thrust, he finally felt the shudder work through her. His name was a wordless plea on the air as she curled into herself, and he followed her, winding around her, holding her as the lightning scored down his spine and he finally let go.

Wrung out, his body simply shut down and they both relaxed into boneless sleep.

Hours later, she woke him, the need just as insatiable. Full of tangled whispers and urgency, she rode him until her cries drifted out into the sea soaked night and only the surf answered.

When morning finally intruded, he found himself alone in the middle of a storm tossed bed. Pillows were at the foot of the mattress, the duvet dripped off the edge leaving him in only a scrap of a sheet.

He rolled to his back, stretching diagonal across the king sized bed. His morning erection had been long sated at dawn and again a few hours ago by her hungry mouth, leaving him hollowed out and exhausted.

He couldn’t remember her ever being that single-minded before. He was usually the one dragging her back into bed to rest and cuddle whenever their crazy schedules allowed. And usually he was the one to initiate sex these days.

Evidently a clear calendar was just what his wife needed.

What they needed.

And if she couldn’t walk correctly when they got home, then so be it.

“What’s that smirk for?”

He lifted his head, his smirk widening into a full blown smile as she knelt on the bed, holding a mug of coffee out to him. “Nothing.” He sat up. “Thanks.”

She curled in front of him on her knees, her eyes dancing over the rim of her mug. She’d filched another one of his tour shirts. This time, Metallica’s Master of Puppets slashed across her chest moving freely with her unencumbered breasts.

“What’s with the devil eyes?”

She shrugged. “Just happy.”

He leaned forward, feeling the smile in her hazelnut kiss. Instead of pulling back, she crawled over to him and straddled his hips. She put her mug down and stole his.

She shifted the sheets, rolling her hips until his cock stirred to life. All it took was a look, a whisper of her scent…hell, just having her in the room had him hard and aching most of the time. But now, he was almost raw from how many times they’d come together.

She had to be sore.

He groaned as she curled her warm fingers around his shaft. “Lawless.”

She smiled and slid the tip of his cock along her slit. She was slick and swollen already and took him inside with ease. Normally he had to go slow the first thrust, but she slid down his cock taking him fully inside.

Her summer sky eyes were wild again. The whites just a little too white, the pupils a little too wide. But he was lost to her a moment later. The rolling glide of her hips dragged him inside the shared space that only they could create.

Gaze locked, bodies one, and sunlight turning her hair into burnished gold, she was everything he’d wanted and never dreamed to have. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her flush to him until he could have her mouth, too.

The haunting groan from their endless night together spilled out of her mouth and into his lungs. And she rode him harder, her hips going from fluid to frantic.

Where had he lost her?

She’d been with him and now she was arching away, her knees gripping his hips as her fingers bit into his shoulder. “Deacon.”

“Shh, baby. I’m here.”

He lowered his grip to her hips and controlled the wild bucking. Christ, he didn’t want to hurt her. This angle let her control the depth of his thrust, but there was no control in her. Only the tempestuous Harper that had invaded his dreams and their bed last night

Unsure what to do, but willing to trust his instincts, he whipped the shirt up and off her and went for her throat. Cornsilk hair curled around his cheek as he found the spot that drove her mad.

He tumbled her back on the bed and brought his hand between them, using fingers against the hunger-starved clit that felt far too engorged for the moment.

They were combustible together, yes. But this was way beyond their usual. The way she gasped his name as her nails dug in. It fed the darker side of him that wanted out so very badly, but he tamped it down. Not now.

Right now, he needed to stay focused and find his way through the veil of need that seemed to have her trapped. She wasn’t with him, she was simply reacting to a stimulus that was gripping her tighter than even his arms could.

He slid out of her and she scrambled up and into his arms, trying to get him back inside of her.

“Lawless, wait.”

“If you don’t make me come my brains out, I’m going to—”

“Going to what?”

She huffed and stared into his eyes. The wild seeping out of her with heaving breaths. It was still there—on the fringes like a fox ready to take out a defenseless bunny.

He’d never been a bunny before.

And he’d never seen this cunning side of her.

Instead of denying her, he dumped her on her back and went right for the target she wanted him to concentrate on. He latched his lips over the swollen lips of her pussy and found the sensitive knot.

She arched off the bed, and he used every single trick he knew about Harper. He knew her body better than his own. He knew where to stroke, where to nip, how hard to rub, and when she liked the zip of pain with her pleasure.

Her bucking scream-filled pants were louder than the frantic seagulls outside. And he was hard as a goddamn pike, but he pushed his own need to the back of his mind.

And when she shook under his mouth, when the tremors reached out to her thighs, when she finally bowed up with a strangled breathless shout before crashing back to the bed, completely spent, he finally relaxed.

He crashed next to her, his cheek pressed to her inner thigh as he dragged in equally difficult lungfuls of air.

“Oh, my God. Seriously, what is wrong with me?”

He lifted his head. “I’m not complaining in any way, but wow.”

She shifted onto her side and scrunched down to him until their noses touched. “Evidently, I can’t get enough of my husband.”

He laughed. “Your husband is completely fine with that. As long as you give me five minutes to regroup.”

She slid the back of her knuckles over his stiff shaft before tracing his aching head. “Regroup, huh?”

“Purely a physical response to all those sex noises you were making.”

She pushed his hair out of his face. “I’ve missed us.”

He brushed his nose along hers, breathing her in before he tasted her swollen mouth. It was easy now. The wild had blown out of her like a summer storm. Okay, so it was more like a category three, but it seemed like she was back to his usual Harper.

The sleepy, cuddly one that he rarely saw these days. When she sighed and nuzzled his cheek, he finally let the last of the weirdness slip away.

“So, what do you want to do today?”

Her blue eyes danced. “Anything I want?”

“Anything that includes us going out into the world.”

She stuck out her lower lip and he laughed. “At least for an hour.”

“Okay.” She lengthened the word into a breathy sigh, before rolling him onto his back and straddling his belly. “I say we go shopping.”

He groaned.

She drilled her finger into his side until he jumped. “I want to get stuff to cook for tonight. Where else am I going to get such fresh seafood?”

When his stomach growled, he couldn’t deny that it was a good idea. “There’s a grill outside on the porch.”

“Perfect.” She vaulted off him, flashing her truly delicious ass as she crossed the room. “I cut up some fruit to go with the croissants that were on the table. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

He rolled off the mattress, dragged on his boxers and wandered over to the little table in the kitchen. Part of him wanted to follow her into the shower, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for round eight.

Instead, he found the pineapples and strawberries she’d cut up, along with the fluffy pastries and a carafe of coffee. He took the tray and padded out to the patio and stretched out on one of the loungers.

The sun was already at its zenith and a few people were out on the beach. Winter in Galveston was still beach weather for some, himself included. The sea air tasted like freedom. Not that there wasn’t plenty of ocean where they were, but Galveston was nice and remote.

He brushed his palm over the heavy beard he’d let grow in. The chances of someone recognizing him here were slim. After next month, his episode on Something Wilde would pretty much put an end to that. He had a fucking cool tattoo to show for it, but the idea of him on display for a television show was downright disconcerting. When he’d done it, he figured that his segment would be a blip on the radar compared to the other clients Casey would have on the air. Casey Wilde’s producers had loved it and the social media angle that Jazz and Harper had created so much that it was now the main ingredient of the show.

He was so fucked.

His tat was in the main credits for the show, for fuck’s sake.

He wasn’t the type to parade around half naked—that was more Simon’s style. But the stage was hot, and more often than not he ended up losing his shirt by the end of a run. Hiding his tats weren’t really an option even if he conceded to a tank or muscle shirt. His arms were still on display.

A cool tangle of hair slid over his shoulder, dragging him away from the land of fame and the famous. He grinned up at his wife. She smelled like peaches today. He slid his arm around her waist and dumped her into his lap. She giggled and snagged the bowl of pineapple from the tray before settling against his chest.

“It’s nice not to have anything to do.”

He nuzzled against her wet hair. “Agreed. It feels like we’ve been chained to a schedule for months now.”

“We have been. I know I gave you shit about pushing for the honeymoon right now, but I’m glad you did.”

Deacon tucked his chin on her shoulder. “I think I need to mark this down on our calendar.”

“Don’t say calendar!”

“All right, all right. So how about we get dressed and go see the lay of the land. Then I can bring you back here, and you can cook for me.”

“Oh yeah? Can I?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to take that joy away from you.”

“What a guy.”

Deacon rose off the chair with her in his arms and tossed her on the bed. Her skin was still flushed from her shower and her summer hair a tumble of messy waves. But it was the pure happiness on her face that caught him like a left hook.

Wow. How long had it been since he’d actually seen that side of her in the last few weeks?

She rolled up on her knees, bright eyes moving into naked territory. He waggled his fingers. “Oh no, you cannot seduce me.”

One eyebrow slowly rose in question.

He turned away and headed for the shower. “No way.”

“Spoilsport!” she shouted after him.

“Hell yes.” Deacon looked down at his dick that was so on board with that plan. “You can play later.” Then turned on a cool stream of water.