Page 100 of Without You

“Fuck. That’s tight,” Deacon growls. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” I manage. “I want to feel you move. Get deeper.”

Spurred on by my request, Deacon’s finger thrusts in and out of my hole. When the tip of his finger grazes my prostate, a loud shout escapes my mouth at the same time Deacon groans. “Fuck. I felt that. Let me do it again.”

Enthralled by his new discovery, Deacon repeatedly hits the spot, working out the perfect angle, the perfect curl of his finger, and the right amount of pressure to make me come.

But I don’t want to. Not yet.

“Deacon.” I turn my head to look at him. “Give me another finger, and then I’ll be ready for you.”

“Are you sure?”

Absolutely not, but I’m not blowing my load without you being inside me.

Feeling bold, I raise my hips, stick my ass in his face, and stretch my cheeks myself. The image is self-explanatory, and as two fingers press at my entrance, I know Deacon is finally on the same page.

When they both slide in my whole body convulses. I have to lower my hand between the mattress and my body to grip the base of my cock to try and stave off the orgasm that’s threatening to crash through me.

Deacon alternates between scissoring his fingers and brushing them against my prostate. The combination is maddening; the pressure and the intensity of the fullness only leaving me desperate for more.

“You ready, baby?” Deacon asks hoarsely.

We lock eyes, and the sight of him squeezing his shaft and looking as unhinged as I feel is the only answer he needs.

“Get on your back,” he demands. “I want you to remember my face when I fuck you. So you know exactly who you’re walking away from, and the man you better fucking come back to.”

23

Deacon

The words are gruff and possessive, and completely out of character, but as thoughts of ravishing his body race through my mind I can barely stop the wordsmine mine minefrom spilling out of my mouth.

As shameful as it makes me feel I don’t care about, nor do I want to think about, anything he did or who he did it with before this moment. Because this, right now, is ours, and I’m not going to let anyone, alive or dead, take it away.

Julian surprises me when he sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed. Grabbing the condom off the mattress, he slips the foil packet into his mouth, tearing off the top and pulling the rubber out. Warm fingers circle my rigid cock, and the tip of his tongue peeks out to lick my wet crown.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“Just wanted a quick taste before I got this on you,” he says nonchalantly, like he didn’t just try to tease me over the edge before I even got inside of him.

He rollson the condom, and even with the barrier between us, having his hands on my shaft pokes holes at my already dwindling control.

“Want me to lube you up?” he quips.

I give his shoulder a little push. “If you touch me any more than what you’re doing, this night is going to be over a lot quicker than either one of us wants.” I tip my chin up at him. “But you can watch me do it.”

His eyes drop to my dick, and I offer him a little show with an upward stroke of my hand, preparing myself for him.

When his tongue darts out to lick his upper lip I climb up on the bed, stalking toward him. Forcing him to the middle I hover over him and slam my lips to his. His arms circle my neck while his mouth feasts on mine, keeping me in place, keeping me close.

Lowering my hand between us I rub, tease, and jack his stiff length. Wet and sticky, Julian’s arousal covers my hands. Sliding my fingers past his tight balls I prod and prep his slick hole.

Reluctantly, I drag my lips away from his and pull back, wanting to look at him properly and make sure he’s certain this is what he wants.

His face is flushed. Pink cheeks, parted lips, and a slight sheen of sweat forming on his hairline, I continue to drag my digits in and out of him, ghosting his prostate. “Ready for me?”

His whole body bears down on my fingers. “I wantyou, Deacon,” he breathes out, and the layered meaning slips right between my rib cage and deliciously pierces my heart.

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