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“God, no.” I pick my head up, meeting his eyes down the length of my body. He gives me a sinful grin in return before dragging the flat of his tongue through my folds and swirling it around my sensitive nerves.
The cry that leaves my mouth is both satisfied while begging for more, and Deacon does not disappoint.
Plunging his head between my legs, he lavishes my center. The scruff of his beard is rough on my thighs, a stark contrast to the gentle way his lips suck my clit into his mouth. He has to brace his arm over my hips to keep them from bucking up, changing his rhythm each time so that release eludes me. It’s the most depraved torture, leaving me torn between demanding he finish or languishing in this euphoric state.
“I wish I had all day to enjoy this pussy.” He plants a chaste kiss on my tender skin before wiping my arousal from his face with the back of his wrist. “But I need to be inside you. Now.”
I try to protest as he rolls a condom over his length, to tell him that he can have me all day long and then some. Only I can’t get the words out before he’s pushing inside me, and all my thoughts dissolve.
Deacon is big, deliciously so, and though the fit isn’t uncomfortable, it’s tight enough to take my breath away each time he enters me.
As always, his first thrust is gentle. Cautious. Testing to make sure his pleasure doesn’t result in my pain. It’s only when I don’t protest that he starts to move.
Slowly. Thoroughly. Rolling his hips over my sensitive nerves with each pass, Deacon molds our bodies together, chasing his desire as he feeds my own. The tip of his cock grinds against my core, building tension deep inside my core.
“Your pussy feels so good on my cock.” He lifts my hands above my head, threading our fingers together as he circles his hips. “So hot.” He kisses my earlobe. “So wet.” He kisses my cheek. “And so fucking tight.” He kisses my lips, coaxing them apart so his tongue meets mine.
I taste a faint musk on his breath, realizing with a gasp it came from me. For some reason that excites me, and I try to take over the kiss, desperately chasing my flavor. He doesn’t give in, pulling back when I try to rush, and setting a leisurely pace. One that matches the slow slide of his dick inside my walls.
Something between a whimper and a groan passes from my mouth to his, and he pulls away with a devious grin. “You want it harder, Dirty Girl? Faster.”
I nod my head.
He leans closer, placing his lips next to my ear. “I might not be able to stop this time. You ready for that?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
Deacon props himself up on his elbows, gripping the headboard with his right hand. Then he pulls back and slams home, the crack of the bed hitting the wall echoing around us. “Like that?”
“Yes,” I cry.
The word barely passes from my lips before he’s driving into me, deep and hard, and faster than I would have thought possible. Like a man possessed, he pistons into me, pounding his dick into the furthest recesses of my core. The weight of his body puts just the right pressure on my clit, building my climax from the outside as well as in.
Closer. Closer. I rise to the peak again, hovering on the edge of oblivion. And then I feel it. The gentle throbbing deep within my center. It’s faint at first, just a hint of the pleasure to come. Then it unleashes, rippling throughout my body with a force like I’ve never experienced.
My walls clamp down around Deacon’s cock, shuddering almost violently. Rhythmic cries burst from my lungs as he continues to thrust, chanting his own pleasure.
“Fuck. Fuck. Oh fuck.” He uses the headboard for leverage as he pounds into me, coming to rest with a thrust so deep it has me seeing stars.
My eyes drift shut as pleasure surrounds me, my limbs turning to jelly. My body feels like it’s floating. Flying. Soaring too high to return to earth. Up until Deacon collapses on top of me, barely able to support his own weight.
Chests heaving, we lay like that, bodies fused together so perfectly it’s like they were destined for each other. And when Deacon plants a tender kiss on my lips I know he feels it too.
This is it. He’s ready to hear that I want this opportunity to be the start of something more.
“Time to leave Vegas, Tiff. The roads are open.” He pulls away without meeting my eyes and pads into the bathroom. It’s the only reason he doesn’t see my tears.
Deacon told me from the start that this couldn’t be real. Implied that his relationship with Cade would make anything more than a secret tryst impossible. I’m the one who thought I could change the outcome, so it’s my own fault my heart feels like it’s cracking right now. With any luck I can keep that bottled up until I’m in my car, where he can’t see me break down.
***
“How were the roads coming back?” Lennon asks when I show up to work that evening.
“Not bad.” I stomp the excess snow off my boots. “Icy in spots where the sun hadn’t reached but otherwise they were fine.”
She follows me to the break room where I hang my coat. “And your friend? Sara, right? How was your visit?”
“Good.” I paste a smile on my face as I brush past her on my way to the bar, talking over my shoulder as she trails me. “We ate out, shopped. I even poked my head in a dance studio they have there.” At least one part of my answer is true. Sort of.
