Chapter 6
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Darcy had expected a nice honeymoon. She hadn’t expected this.
She stretched out on the massive bed, her body still humming from the last round—if you could even call it a round when she was fairly sure Coulson had turned it into an Olympic event.
Their honeymoon villa in the Maldives was secluded, surrounded by nothing but waves, sun, and a ridiculous amount of luxury that Darcy had no intention of wasting.
Not when her brand-new husband had just spent the last two hours proving that mild-mannered Phil Coulson was anything but mild-mannered when you got him out of that damn suit.
Speaking of which—he was currently standing at the foot of the bed, completely naked, watching her with that infuriatingly calm expression, though the dark heat in his eyes said he was anything but composed.
Darcy propped herself up on her elbows, licking her lips. “You know staring is rude, right?”
Coulson smirked. Smirked. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
“Just taking in the view,” he said smoothly, his voice that rich, low tone that sent shivers racing up her spine.
She let her eyes roam over him, trailing from the strong cut of his shoulders down to his toned abdomen—down further to the evidence that, despite everything they’d already done tonight, he wasn’t remotely tired.
“Oh, you’re gonna kill me,” she muttered, flopping back against the pillows.
Coulson chuckled, the sound dark and full of promise. “Not my intention, Mrs. Coulson.”
Her toes curled at that.
He climbed onto the bed, moving with that slow precision, the kind that made her stomach clench in anticipation.
By the time he was hovering over her, Darcy was already aching again, the heat between her thighs rekindling like it had never left.
Coulson brushed a hand down her side, fingers trailing just barely over her skin, teasing, making her arch beneath him.
“Teasing is cruel,” she groaned.
“Patience,” he murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just below her collarbone.
Darcy hated patience.
But when his mouth started its slow, agonising descent down her body, pressing open-mouthed kisses over every inch of her skin, she decided that maybe patience had its benefits.
She gasped when he reached her hip, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there before moving lower, his hands gripping her thighs with just enough force to make her squirm.
“Phil,” she panted, her fingers curling into the sheets.
“Mmm,” he hummed against her skin, his breath sending shivers racing over her body.
Then his mouth was on her, and Darcy’s brain short-circuited.
Heat exploded through her, her back arching as Coulson devoured her, tongue flicking and stroking with maddening precision.
He had been good before—but this? This was criminal.
She was already trembling, her hands fisting into his hair as he sucked, dragging her closer and closer to the edge.
“Oh, fuck—”
Coulson didn’t stop. If anything, the sound of her falling apart only made him hungrier.
When she finally came, she screamed his name, her whole body shaking as pleasure crashed through her in waves.
She barely had time to recover before he was sliding back up her body, capturing her lips in a slow, heated kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
She could still feel the aftershocks pulsing through her, but Coulson wasn’t done.
His body pressed against hers, hot and so perfectly hard, and she moaned at the feel of him, at the way he fit between her thighs.
“Still with me?” he murmured, his breath hot against her mouth.
Darcy grinned, flipping them fast, straddling him before he could react.
“You wish I was done,” she teased, dragging her nails down his chest.
Coulson groaned, his hands tight on her hips.
She reached between them, guiding him to where she needed him, and then—sank down.
The stretch was perfect, the heat overwhelming, and Darcy had to brace herself against his chest as she took him in fully.
“Fuck, Darcy,” Coulson hissed, his fingers digging into her hips.
She smirked, rolling her hips slow and deep, loving the way his head fell back, the way his jaw tensed.
Darcy lived to wreck Phil Coulson.
She moved faster, chasing the blinding pleasure, riding him in long, slow strokes that had him gripping her thighs like a lifeline.
Coulson was so close—she could feel it in the way his muscles tensed, the way his control started to crumble.
And then he flipped them, pinning her beneath him, thrusting hard and deep in a way that made her sob with pleasure.
“Phil—”
He swallowed her cries with a kiss, his hips moving in devastating rhythm, dragging her over the edge again.
She shattered with a scream, her body clenching around him, dragging him down with her.
Coulson groaned her name as he spilled into her, his body shaking against hers.
For a long moment, they just breathed, tangled together, their bodies buzzing with the aftermath.
Darcy let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lazy kiss to his shoulder. “Best. Honeymoon. Ever.”
Coulson chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We still have a week.”
Darcy grinned. “Oh, you’re so not sleeping.”
He smirked. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
And with that, he rolled her onto her stomach, pressing his lips to the back of her neck, already starting again.
Darcy moaned.
This was the best classified secret she’d ever uncovered.
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