Page 36 of Deacon

“Do that again,” I whisper.

“Do what?”

“Move, but just a little.”

He obliges. The smooth, hard head of his cock strokes my deepest point. It makes me want to whimper and curl my toes all at once.

“Oh God,” I gasp out.

He nuzzles my neck, beard rough. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

My lips tremble, and I can’t get anything past them. He pushes deep, holding it for a second, grinding gently against my clit and sparking that burning heat that makes me go wild. I hear myself moan, my hips shaking hard.

“Fuck, that’s so sweet,” he breathes. “All out of words.”

My cheeks burn. “Do it again,” I manage. “Please.”

He obliges, grinding on my clit. I shudder, letting myself moan again so he knows how good it feels. A glitter of sweat drags down his neck. His body ripples as he moves back, disengaging his cock from me. My hips twinge, from want more than pain. He sits back, and my eyes fall to his lap.

God, he’s big. It’s hard to tear my gaze away.

“Want you to sit on my face, sweetheart,” he says.

My stomach drops. I clamp my thighs shut and push up on my elbows.

“What?”

He shakes his head once. “Been thinking about it. I want you to put that pretty cunt on my face, suffocate me. I see you riding your hips and thighs up on me, so do it with my head in between them.”

My lips part. I’m locking up, and shame trickles in.

“No,” I whisper.

His forehead creases in thought. “You think it won’t feel good?” he asks.

Shame is strong again. It was gone for a second, but now it’s back. And with it is that word—whore. I hear it in Aiden’s voice, an echo in my head. I’m a whore for wanting to be touched. Selfish, a slut without trying to be. He taught me that, ground it into my head. Now, even alone with Deacon, I can’t get away.

“I just want you to fuck me,” I whisper. “Hard.”

He doesn’t argue. I appreciate that. I don’t want to think anymore. I want every confusing, conflicting thought fucked from my head.

I spread my thighs, hoping I can tempt him into pushing his cock back in. He leans in, and his hard hand wraps around my neck as his mouth brushes mine.

Yes, please. Turn my brain off. Don’t let me think about this.

“I will eat your pussy if I have to tie your legs open,” he says, voice harsh. “Not tonight, but I swear, I will.”

My shame disappears as he takes control from my hands. This isn’t my fault, after all. He’s the one in charge.

“You want to be fucked dirty?” he presses.

Flushed, wet, my pussy spread for him, I nod hard. The corner of his mouth turns up and, in one movement, he slides an arm under me and flips me onto my hands and knees.

The wind knocks from me. I don’t have time to recover before his hand goes to the back of my head. His fingers fist in my hair, dragging my head back. I see myself reflected a dozen times in the mirrors inlaid in the headboard.

I’ve never seen myself so desperate.

“Let’s fuck then, sweetheart.”

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