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She was glad her couch was a cleanable leather because the anticipation of what he was about to do made her so slick, she could feel a trickle of wet sliding from her. His thumbs dug into her thighs as he spread her open even further.
When he reached up and dipped his right thumb between her lips, she swirled her tongue around it before he pulled it back out and over her bottom lip, dragging it down her body, following a similar path as she had done to him. Between her breasts, over her belly and then he planted it on her clit, pressing and circling.
Her hips lifted slightly and she dropped her knees open as far as she could, giving him the space he needed.
In a split second, his face was buried between her thighs and he sucked her pussy lips, one at a time, into his mouth, dragged the tip of his tongue between them, taking over where his thumb had been.
He was good at kissing.
He was better at eating pussy.
So. Much. Better.
It was sensation overload, the combination of his tongue, lips and fingers along with the scrape of his beard against her delicate skin.
Like a plundering Viking, he was taking no prisoners and wasn’t being gentle or delicate with her sensitive flesh. Oh, hell no. He was eating her like he was starving and someone was about to steal his plate of food.
He’d probably snap like a dog if someone else’s fingers got close. While she found that amusing, what he was doing was not. Because she was about to come.
No, not about to, she was.
Her toes curled, her heart thundered and her breath stopped as her hips shot up when an intense orgasm ripped through her. He continued to lick and suck her until the last ripple ebbed away.
A few moments later, she collapsed back onto the couch, almost falling off the edge and to the floor. He caught her, held her there and grinned.
Oh yeah, he knew what he had done. What he had accomplished.
He was proud of himself.
His mouth and bearded chin were shiny from her arousal. He licked his lips and wiped a hand down both. “Fuck yeah,” he breathed.
That was his response to him making her come like that, a simple fuck yeah. She echoed the same response in her own head.
He cocked an eyebrow. “You gonna say anything?”
She shook her head. “I’m pretty damn speechless.” She wouldn’t lie.
“Didn’t think that ever happened to lawyers,” he teased.
“It usually doesn’t.”
“Guess I did all right, then.”
Oh, now he was being a cocky shit. “I guess it was okay.”
He snorted, grabbed his cock and stroked it once. “I’m hard as fuck.”
“I can see that.”
“Hard to miss, right?” The corners of his eyes crinkled when he grinned.
“Deke...”
“Done talkin’. Need to fuck you.”
She needed him to fuck her, too. She slipped from the couch and onto the rug, offering her hand to him. “Then why aren’t you suited up yet?”
He leaned over and snagged the condom off the nearby table, ripped it open, and rolled it on. Her eyes following the movement of his hands. When he was done, she lifted her gaze to the man who stood over her. He was too far away.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
“No.” He tilted his head. “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous. Not only sexy as fuck, but you taste like heaven.”
“You know what heaven tastes like?”
“I do now.”
“Deke...” She could not fall for this man. She could not.
No.
Convenient sex. That was all it was.
He did not fit into her life and she didn’t fit into his. And even if he did, she was too busy to even think about any kind of relationship. Even a casual one.
Concentrate on the sex, Reese, that’s it.
Concentrate on only the man who was joining her on the rug. He had said she was gorgeous. But it was he who was gorgeous.
She never appreciated tattoos, piercings or beards until Deacon. But right now, she was appreciating that and so much more.
Like his cock.
And his tongue.
And those lips. Which curled up in a cocky grin when he noticed her checking him out.
He settled between her thighs, keeping his weight off her by planting his palms on the floor. The latex-covered tip of his cock slid along her inner thigh and he nudged her thighs wider with his knees. But he didn’t move to fuck her.
Not yet.
Instead he went face to face with her, and she stared up at his shadowed features, for the first time regretting they never had sex in the light. Where she could see the minute details of this man, like the colors of his eyes, the ripple of every muscle, the slightest change in his expression.
Good God, was it the pot making her think like this? If so, she needed to stop. Her thoughts were teetering on a dangerous edge. An edge which could crumble easily, causing her to fall.
