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“So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs against my lips.
“It’s the pineapple,” I whisper playfully, slipping my fingertips underneath the hem of his t-shirt.
Deacon chuckles, and my stomach clenches as he grabs my ass with both hands and hoists me up. I instinctively wrap my legs around his hips as he turns swiftly, forcing a gasp from my lips as my back hits the door.
He pulls his lips from mine and smiles, our faces only inches apart, with his intense gaze boring into mine. There’s a certain intimacy in being this close to someone. It’s not something I’ve experienced before, but I’m absolutely feeling it now.
Letting out a shaky breath, I give him a small smile and press my lips back to his, sliding my tongue along his bottom lip, silently telling him that I can’t get enough.
He gets the message, claiming me once more with a long and deep kiss.
There’s no doubt in my mind about how badly he wants me.
He kisses a trail across my jaw to my ear, sucking my earlobe into his mouth before nipping at the soft flesh. He continues his sensual assault, flooding my body with heat as he kisses down my neck and drags his teeth across my shoulder.
I arch into him, gasping when I feel the hard ridge of his cock press against me exactly where I need it.
He’s so fucking big.
“Deacon, please.”
“Don’t worry, beauty. I’ll give you what you need. I’ll give you everything.”
I barely process his words, distracted by the steady pulse he’s creating between my thighs. It’s like my brain has short-circuited. Words mean nothing now, only his touch.
Luckily, I don’t need to think.
Deacon pulls me away from the door and carries me through his apartment. In his bedroom, he lowers me to the bed and follows, hovering over me. Reaching behind his head, he removes his shirt in one swift motion and once it’s off, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down on top of me.
I love the feeling of his hard body against my soft curves. I only wish that I were feeling him skin to skin, but I know there’s still plenty of time for that.
Kissing me again, he nips my lower lip and smiles against my mouth as he shifts to the side and undoes the button on my jeans. His calloused fingertips slip beneath the denim and the cotton underneath, brushing against my skin as his hand moves lower and lower, all the way down to my hot core. His fingers find my wetness and he lets out a delicious groan.
“So fucking wet.”
He’s right. I’m dripping with need, and he’s barely touched me.
Words fail me, leaving me nothing more than a whimpering mess as his fingers ghost over my clit. He circles it slowly, teasing me for a few short seconds before bringing his hand back up. I’m not surprised to see my wetness glistening on his fingertips, but my lips part on a gasp when he slips them into his mouth and groans.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “You were right about the pineapple. You’re fucking sweet everywhere.”
He slips his fingers beneath my clothing again, but this time when he pulls back, he slips two fingers into my mouth. “Taste yourself, beauty. Taste how fucking sweet you are.”
I swirl my tongue around his fingers, tasting the honeyed tang of my own arousal.
I’ve never tasted myself before, and something about doing it now, with him, makes me even wetter. As if he knows, Deacon curses under his breath and pulls back, settling on his knees.
His hands move up my sides, bringing my top with them. I sit up and raise my arms over my head, allowing him to pull it off completely. He tosses it to the floor and seconds later, my bra joins it. I kick off my shoes and Deacon’s eyes greedily take in every inch of bare flesh he reveals as he scoots back to drag my jeans and panties down my legs.
The way he looks at me makes my pussy pulse and goosebumps break out all over my skin.
I’ve never felt desire quite like this before.
Deacon brushes his knuckles over my nipples, hardening them to stiff little peaks. He cups one breast and pinches that nipple, making me jolt. Chuckling, he leans down and sucks the tip into his mouth, nipping the sensitive bud with his teeth before soothing away the sting with his tongue. He does it again with the other one and I arch my back, chasing the incredible sensation.
“Please. More.”
I can’t manage more than one syllable words, and I can barely manage even those.
