And now, the edgy moment...
The minute the thick hotel door closed behind Rayna she leaned her back against it and shoved her hand up her dress. She'd been hot for hours, waiting until she was alone in her hotel room so she could find release. She rubbed herself through her lace panties, tipping her head back against the door as her fingers worked against her flesh. Her breath came faster as she thought about Deacon.
He'd looked so smug and sexy tonight during their show, his little groupie sitting in the front row watching him. He was watching Rayna, though, his eyes smoldering as he played next to her. He was all sex, he always had been, and it drove Rayna crazy. She'd been out of her mind, horny for weeks, and had started taking it out on anyone who was in the vicinity. She'd had a massive diva dip both before and after the show today, barking orders and snapping at roadies—so unlike her usual self, but she couldn't help it.
Deacon had just smirked at her during the show, watching her, his jeans hugging all the right places, his fingers moving up and down the neck of the guitar the way she wished they would move up and down on her. She missed those fingers and what they could do to her.
Deciding the friction from rubbing wasn't enough, she pushed the lace of her panties aside and plunged two fingers deep into herself. She cried out and moaned as her thumb ghosted over her clit. "Fuck," She breathed, working her fingers in and out of herself in long deep strokes, her head still tipped back against the door, her eyes shut. She gasped as her fingers moved faster, deeper, and she started to whimper.
"Hey, Ray." A gravelly voice said from the corner of the room.
Her fingers stopped moving immediately, and her eyes snapped open. She'd know that voice anywhere. She dropped her head down to survey the room, and saw a shadowy figure sitting in the grey reclining chair in the corner of the room.
Still panting, she withdrew her fingers from herself and took a small step forward into the light. "Deacon," Her voice was still raspy, "How in the hell did you get in here?"
Deacon chuckled and leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knee, "I have my ways."
Rayna rolled her eyes; he'd charmed the woman at the front desk, no doubt. He'd flirted with her and called her darlin', telling her there was just one little tiny favor he needed from her. It wasn't the first time he'd convinced some woman to let him into Rayna's room without permission, but it had been a very long time since he'd done it.
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Okay. A better question would be what in the hell are you doing in here?"
Deacon let out a sigh, "Well, I couldn't help but notice that you haven't been acting like yourself these last few weeks, Rayna, and it seemed particularly bad tonight, and so I wondered just what in the hell was wrong with you…" He looked her up and down, "I had my suspicions, of course." He laughed, "You've been insufferable lately, which to the best of my recollection usually means only one thing." His eyes fixated on the juncture of her thighs, "Based on what I just witnessed, I guess I was right."
Rayna stepped further into the room, tugging her dress back down around her thighs. He knew her better than just about anyone on the planet, and even she could admit she turned into a downright bitch when she was horny, so she wasn't surprised he'd figured it out.
Still, she lifted her chin in defiance and scoffed, "You have no idea what you're talking about." Rayna said, her voice mirroring the defiance in her voice.
Deacon stood from the chair in the corner of the room, and her eyes fell to his jeans where she could see his arousal straining against his zipper. He took three steps and was in front of her.
"Oh no?" He smirked, "So then you didn't just have your fingers buried deep in your pussy?" He caught her by the wrist and drew her hand – the one that had been between her thighs only moments before - up to his nose. Inhaling sharply, he closed his eyes, and then he breathed out and opened his eyes, looking at her fingers. He made eye contact with her as he stuck his tongue out and ran it along the length of her still-wet finger and then back down again, "Oh, my eyes definitely weren't deceiving me." He licked her second finger the same way, never taking his eyes from hers; he let out a sexy moan, as he sucked the tip in his mouth and then released it, "I'll never forget your taste, Rayna." He dropped her wrist and smirked at her again.
Rayna felt her knees wobble a bit as the blood rushed from her head. She didn't have to ask where it was going, because she felt the heat pool between her legs immediately.
She didn't trust her voice, but she spoke anyway, "I don't know what you think…" She started, but he interrupted her.
"What I think is that you haven't been fucked well and good in over a damn decade. That's what I think." When her mouth dropped open, he chuckled. They were inches apart, his breath hot on her face.
Rayna felt her resolve slipping away—she'd been horny for weeks, and she'd spent the last two nights on tour being endlessly turned on by Deacon, and now he was standing before her in her hotel room with a hard on. And he was right. She hadn't been fucked properly in over a decade, and they both knew it.
"Deacon," She breathed, "I need…"
"Oh, I know what you need." He shrugged, "You need to be fucked, and fucked good. Too bad I can't give it to you, seeing as how you have another man's ring on your finger and all."
Any other time, that line would have snapped her back to reality, back to her marriage, but tonight she was throbbing between her legs, and the lust was clouding her brain so much she could scarcely see straight.
"Please…" Her voice was thick with desire, and she reached out to touch Deacon through his jeans, but he backed away.
Deacon clicked his tongue at her, "No touching." He had a wicked glint in his eye, "But I suppose you could… watch." He watched her eyes go wide, "Do you still like to watch, Rayna?"
She swallowed hard; closing her eyes a little, she nodded, "Yeah."
Deacon brought his finger to his chin, pretending to think, "But how can we keep you from touching?" He moved to a banquet chair in the opposite corner of the room and dragged it so it was in front of the corner chair he was sitting in when she'd first come in. "Take your dress off and sit down, Rayna." He ordered, his voice rough. He indicated the banquet chair.
She kicked off her heels and brought her hands to the zipper in the side of her dress. Drawing it down, she let it slide over her body and then she stepped out of it, leaving her clad only in black lace panties and a matching black lace bra.
Deacon dragged his eyes up and down her body and licked his lips, "Sit."
She sat down in the chair, and Deacon worked on his belt buckle, his gaze flicking over her body. When his buckle was undone, he slid his belt off.
"Hands behind your back." He commanded, moving behind her in the chair.
Rayna put her hands behind her back, and tilted her head back to look at him, curious. He grabbed her wrists a bit roughly and held them together while he tied the belt around them. When he was finished, the knot he'd tied was loose enough to not be painful, but tight enough that she couldn't get out of the restraint. He tugged on the belt one more time and nodded, satisfied.
"There we go." Deacon pulled his t-shirt over his head and unbuttoned his jeans, "I've left your legs free because I want you to be able to use that chair to your advantage," Deacon said, smirking at her. "You know I'd love to touch your pussy," Rayna hissed at the thought of his calloused fingers sliding across her flesh, "But… that would be against the rules, so you'll just have to figure something else out."
He kicked off his boots, unzipped his jeans, and slid them off. His cock tented his boxers, and he saw Rayna's eyes fall directly to his erection. He grabbed himself through his boxers, "Is this what you want to see?" He asked her.
She nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was too dry. She nodded again, and cleared her throat. "Yes." Her voice sounded harsh.
Deacon stared at her, and then pushed his boxers over his hips until they pooled on the floor and he stepped out of them. Rayna's eyes stayed directly on his erection, and he chuckled as she licked her lips. He grabbed himself, running his hand up and down his length as she watched. He sat down on the chair in the corner, leaning back a little, and stared at her, his eyes traveling up and down her body. He could see her hardened nipples through her bra, and his breath came shallow.
His hand slid up and down his cock, circling the head with his thumb and then dropping back down again. "I wish this was your hand, Rayna. Or better yet, your mouth." He gasped as he twisted his hand back up his length, "You always did know your way around my cock, didn't you?"
Rayna nodded; she'd always loved her way around his cock. She could feel herself soaking through her panties, the cool fabric pressing into her, and she shifted herself, wrapping her feet around the legs of the chair to get a better angle. She pressed herself down into the rough material of the chair, swiveling her hips, enjoying the feeling the pressure gave her.
"That's it," Deacon said, watching her as his hand moved up and down his cock in slow strokes, "Work your pussy on that chair. Does it feel good?" He asked, his voice ragged.
"Mmhmm." Rayna nodded, her eyes glued to his crotch. She was surprised at how good it did feel, pressing herself against a damn chair—she was so incredibly turned on in general, let alone watching him touch himself, that she didn't care what she had to do to get off, she was going to do it.
When they were together, she'd had a thing about watching him jack off. It was a thing she'd only ever had with him. She loved it, watching his hand glide up and down his length, his rough fingers working on himself. She especially loved it when he would talk to her while he did it. She'd always loved dirty talk, and it turned her on so much to see him stroke himself and listen to him talk—that voice. It did things to her. It always had.
Deacon knew this about her, and he loved to talk just as much as she loved to listen. "Remember that night in Denver?" He asked, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking it for lubrication, "You were so hot on stage that night. We'd been fighting all day… but that night… I fucked you so hard you had a hard time walking the next day."
Rayna flicked her eyes up to his and nodded; she definitely remembered.
He brought his hand back down to himself and slid it down to his base, inhaling sharply at the sensation, "How many different ways did I take you that night?"
Rayna's eyes dropped back down to his hand and she rocked herself back and forth on the chair and let out a little moan, her breathing rapid and shallow as she settled on the memory.
"I bet I know which way you're thinking of right now, don't I?" He asked, his voice a hot mixture of lust and cockiness.
An image flashed behind Rayna's eyes: her naked on all fours on the hotel bed, Deacon standing behind her equally naked, his hand pulling her head back roughly by her hair as he slammed into her over and over again… hard.
"Mmm," He moaned, his hand working faster up and down his shaft. "I always loved taking you like that, too. Fisting your hair in my hand, yanking your head back, and just pounding into you."
Rayna squirmed in the chair and whimpered, her arousal higher than she thought it ever had been. She struggled against the belt tying her wrists together, wanting desperately to break free and get her fingers on herself, in herself. More than that, she wanted to feel him inside her.
"God, Deacon," She breathed, "I wish…" She trailed off, and they both knew what she was wishing for: his cock deep inside her pussy.
Deacon grunted, his hand working faster, "Do you know what I wish?" He titled his head back a bit, "I wish you'd never married that trust fund asshole so you could be sitting on my face right now." He smirked at her as he swirled his hand around his tip, "Remember that, Rayna? How you used to sit on my face while I stroked myself." He groaned, his eyes slamming shut as he licked his lips, remembering, pleased to find that her taste was still in his mouth.
"God, yes," Rayna said, moving her hips around fervently, "I remember."
Deacon opened his eyes and moaned as he watched her moving against the chair, thinking of the way she'd sat on his face, balancing herself with her hands on the wall behind his head as he moved his hand up and down his cock. She'd ground down on his face like she was doing on that chair now, his nose pressed into her clit, breathing her in as he worked his tongue against her, slipped it inside her as she gasped. She'd reach down to grasp his balls, and he'd moan against her as she worked herself against his mouth.
Deacon's hand was moving faster now, his breath ragged as he panted, thinking of Rayna sitting on his face. "I loved using my tongue on you." Deacon sneered a bit, "Does he eat you out as good as I did, Rayna?" He stroked himself faster, "Does he make you come with his mouth like I did, hard with his name on your lips?"
Rayna's eyes snapped to his face, and he was staring straight at her, a knowing smirk on his face. She should avoid the question, she knew, but there was something about the way he said it, something about how turned on she was by it that made her want to answer. It was hot, the way he talked, and it was somehow hot to her that she could tell him the truth about his question.
She was moving faster against the chair now, she could feel her climax building inside her and it surprised her, "Fuck, no." She whispered, her eyes boring into his, "No one could ever eat me out like you." She smirked at him when his mouth dropped open, knowing he loved for her to talk dirty back to him, "I loved fucking your face, grinding myself against your lips as you drove your tongue into me over and over again." She pressed herself deliberately against the chair, "That's what I'm thinking about now."
"Shit, Rayna," He breathed out, his breath coming faster; he was close, he was so close; the sight of her sitting there in her bra and panties, grinding herself into a banquet chair she was pretending was his face, talking about the things he used to do to her pussy with his tongue had his hand twisting in exactly the way he liked, "Do you want me to come?" He asked her, his voice gravelly and rough.
Rayna moaned, the sound deep and loud as it echoed off the walls of the hotel room, "Yes." She said, rocking back and forth on the chair, her eyes watching his hand slide up and down his shaft, "I want to see you come." She flicked her eyes up to his, letting the full weight of her lust for him settle in her eyes, "Come for me, Deacon." She said, her voice full of sex as she dropped her eyes down to his cock again.
His breath caught at the way she was looking at him, and he felt his orgasm rising up as she stared hungrily at his cock, her lips slick from where she'd licked them. "Fuck," He cried out, and his hand slid to the top of his cock, working the tip until he felt his orgasm shoot through him and he cried out, her name bouncing off the walls as his hand slid up and down himself, riding his orgasm out. He shuddered as he opened his eyes to find Rayna's eyes on him, her skin flushed as she worked herself against the seat of the chair.
Deacon could see she was on edge, nearly ready to orgasm, and he knew just how to send her over. He lazily ran his hand up and down his shaft, shuddering a bit when he touched a sensitive spot, "I bet you wish you could clean this up for me, don't you, Rayna?" He saw her eyes go wide and her head tilt back a little; reading her reaction, he smirked, "Yeah, I thought so. What would you use to clean it up?" He rasped, and watched her swallow, "Tell me what you would use." He growled.
Rayna had found a rhythm in her rocking, and she moaned at his words, "My tongue." She answered, looking at him through hooded eyes as the image of herself crawling over to him and cleaning him up with her tongue flashed through her mind. She'd never wanted to be so dirty with anyone but him.
Deacon chuckled, the sexy sound hitting Rayna right between her legs. "That's right, you'd clean me up with your tongue, wouldn't you?" He shuddered once more as the last bit of his orgasm rippled through him, "You'd crawl right over here, stick that pretty pink tongue out and clean my cock off for me, wouldn't you?" He smirked, "You wouldn't miss a drop."
Rayna gasped, his words turning her on even more, "Fuck," She exhaled sharply, squirming in the chair. "No, I wouldn't miss a damn drop." She shut her eyes, pressing herself down into the chair, hard, bouncing over and over again, desperate for release, "Deacon, please." She pleaded, her eyes coming half open, looking at his cock covered in his release, "Just…" She gasped as she hit a particularly sweet spot as she ground down, "Just one taste."
Deacon inhaled sharply, and then grinned. "Just one taste." He said, "And then you come for me."
Rayna nodded, her breathing shallow.
Deacon ran his finger along his length, watching Rayna's eyes trail his finger as he gathered what she wanted to taste. She licked her lips. He stood up and walked over to her, stopping to stand in front of her. He held his finger in front of her lips, her eyes tracing its length, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips as she noticed how wet his finger was.
"Open your mouth." He commanded, knowing it was her favorite of his commands.
She did, and then she sucked his finger inside. As the taste of him hit her tongue, she breathed "Fuck," around his finger and sucked harder, not taking her eyes away from his stare, the taste of him swirling around her mouth.
As her tongue cleaned his finger off, he lowered his head. His voice was authoritative when he spoke, "Come."
She bit down on his finger, digging herself into the chair, and let out a hoarse cry as her orgasm ripped through her. She threw her head back and her body stilled as her toes curled. She cursed as she shuddered, squeezing her legs together and rocking into the chair as she rode out the wave. It was a shockingly powerful orgasm given the only physical stimuli was the seat of a banquet chair. But Deacon had stoked the orgasm with his words, with his taste.
When she opened her eyes, Deacon was staring at her face, a small smirk on his lips – he'd liked what he'd seen just then. She released his finger from her mouth and glanced down to see that he was hard again. Her head lolled back, resting against the back of the chair as she panted. Deacon leaned down and began untying the belt holding her wrists together. He placed an open mouthed kiss on her neck, and then released her hands.
Her hands flew immediately to herself and she pressed down on her clit, enjoying the sensation it sent through her body. A small moan escaped her, and when Deacon stepped in front of her, his eyes watching her hand move against herself, she saw him straining against the zipper of his jeans again. He threw his t-shirt on over his head, and looked at her with a gaze that was pure lust – and something else that, if she weren't scared to see, she would have recognized as love.
He leaned down and spoke into her ear, his voice ragged, "You're so fucking sexy." He breathed out, sending a shiver down her spine, "And mark my words. One taste tonight wasn't enough for me. I will eat you out again someday." She gasped, and he chuckled as he pulled back from her and pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head, "Night, Ray." He pulled the door open, "Glad I could be of service."
The next day, there were no diva dips. And there was no groupie in the front row. And Deacon smirked at her through the entire show—and she? She smirked right back.
This is likely my last chapter for a while; interest seems to have waned a bit, which is totally fine, as this was my last fully-formed idea for this series. If any more ideas/interest pop(s) up, I'll probably be back.