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“No. Lay back on the bed and play with your tits.”
I stick out my lower lip but do as he says, hoping that the more I please him the better my chances he’ll give in to my pleas. “What should I do?”
“Cup them in your hand and squeeze. Feel how full and soft they are. How they mold to your touch.” I tilt my head to the side so I can see him, and catch him rolling his balls in the palm of his hand. “Pinch your nipples. Give them a good tug for me.”
He pulls on his balls as I tweak my nipples, stretching them away from my body.Ooh that’s nice. I’ve always been a little self-conscious of my chest since it’s so full, but under Deacon’s heavy gaze I feel beautiful. Empowered. Enough so that I arch my back to push my breasts forward, running my hands over the curves and plumping them for his pleasure.
“God what I wouldn’t give to put my mouth on those pretty pink nipples. Don’t,” he warns when I start to rise off the bed. “You know the rules. Stay right there and put your fingers back in your pussy.”
Sliding my hands down my stomach, I part myself with my left hand and start stroking with the right, spreading my silky arousal everywhere.
“Good girl,” Deacon rasps as his fist finds his cock again, stroking it with more vigor. “Keep going. I want to hear how wet you are.”
Holy mother of God that’s dirty. And hot.
Matching his rhythm, I pump my fingers in and out of my pussy, letting the palm of my hand graze over my clit with each pass. I’m positively drenched, squelching sounds echoing through the room as I work myself to a frenzy. And while it feels incredible, it’s my view of Deacon that drives my desire.
Chest heaving, biceps straining, his abs contract as he thrusts his hips to meet his fist, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh a steady drumbeat around us. Whereas before his strokes were measured, gentle even, now they’re erratic. Unhinged. Chasing a euphoria he’s desperate for even while wanting this bliss to last forever. I know because it’s exactly how I feel.
“Come for me, Tiff. Come now.”
His gravelly voice sends me over the edge, waves and waves of pleasure coursing violently through me. Screams erupt from my throat as my pussy clenches around my fingers, my release trickling from my center and spilling down the globes of my ass. My clit throbs with a mixture of satisfaction and a twinge of pain as my palm skirts over it, pulling every last quiver from my body in a desperate attempt to make the moment last. To stay soaring on this high.
That was… epic.
I’ve touched myself before. Even had sex once. I’m not ignorant of what pleasure feels like. Yet none of that compares to what I just experienced.
My lungs strain for air as my shuddering slows to a stop. That’s when I hear the strangled groan across the room. I sit up just in time to see Deacon’s head tip back in ecstasy as ropes of cum paint his chest, a fresh spurt erupting with each stroke of his cock.
Hottest. Thing. Ever.
Pumping until he’s spent, Deacon’s limbs seem to deflate as his orgasm wanes, his body sinking into the chair. Though his eyes are closed, his face looks relaxed. Content. It lasts for maybe a minute before he goes visibly stiff.
“I need to clean up.” He launches out of the chair and darts to the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Blinking back tears, I get up and rinse my hands in the kitchen sink before pulling on my pajamas and climbing into bed.This all started over a scene in a book—not his unbridled desire foryou. Of course, he’s hiding in the bathroom. Did you expect anything else. Kisses? Cuddles? Get a grip.
Deacon was clear from the beginning what this was—and wasn’t—so the fact that he regrets it shouldn’t be a surprise. Yet even knowing he regrets what we just did, I can’t bring myself to feel the same.
I’ve always wanted this.Him. And even though part of me held out hope that he might relent, I can’t be mad at him for staying behind the line he said he wouldn’t cross. All things considered, I’m happy he gave me this experience. It might not have ended the way I wanted, but it still meant more to me than he could ever know. It was single hottest moment of my life, and despite whatever comes next, I’m grateful for it.
As the shower turns on, I replay whatdidhappen to erase the memory of what didn’t. It must work, because I’m asleep by the time he finally emerges.
***
The gurgling of water and hiss of steam as the coffeepot comes to life pulls me from sleep, though it takes a while to reconcile the foreign sound.
Roads closed. Rustic cabin. Deacon.
I jolt upright, eyes darting around the room in a panic.
Was it a dream, or did we…?
“There’s coffee.” His even tone reaches me from the chair across the room. The same chair as… It’s angled away from the bed now, though, so I can’t see his face. “No cream, so you’ll have to take it black.”
“How do you know the way I take my coffee?”
“Your phone’s been buzzing all morning,” he ignores my question. “Probably better check it.”
