Page 39 of Deacon

“I’ve never done that,” she says finally.

“Never been touched? Or you’ve never come?”

“Never been touched like this.”

I take hold of her thigh and ease her onto her back. She slides down, her hair a dark cloud around her face. She gasps as I lay my body alongside hers, one hand resting on her lower belly.

Our eyes meet, inches apart.

I kiss her, so softly. She moans, and some of the tension in her body eases. I pull back. Our noses touch, and I can taste her sweetness.

“You like kissing?” I ask.

“Yes,” she breathes.

I kiss her again, taking my time, being gentle the way someone like her deserves. All the while, I keep my hand rubbing over her skin, down to the mound above her pussy, down until my fingertips find her clit.

I pull back. Her eyes are wide, glazed like she’s drunk off sex.

“You like that, sweetheart?” I murmur. “You want me to touch this pretty pussy?”

Her lids flicker. “You’re so dirty.”

Her voice is faint, probably because I’m dipping my fingers into her and taking the slickness of our cum to rub over her clit. Her thighs tense. Her hips lift an inch off the bed and come back down, her spine locking.

“Good fucking girl,” I praise.

She’s in profile, and I’m stretched out beside her. A little huff of breath escapes her lips. If I had to guess, she’s close. It won’t take her long to tumble over the edge. I see it in the tightening of her stomach. I feel it in her swollen clit between my fingers.

I pinch it, rubbing. She whimpers aloud. I bend in and kiss the side of her neck, pushing her head to the side so I can access the slope of her shoulder.

She pants. My fingers move faster, back and forth.

“Let it out, sweetheart,” I tell her.

Her spine locks, her thighs spread. I’m aware I need to soak this all in—the first time she comes for me. It’s perfect. A ripple of pleasure moves through her soft curves. Her thighs tremble. Her toes curl and her feet arch. A little cry slips out, her hands moving up to grip the pillow. I slip my hand down, pushing my middle finger inside and pressing the heel of my hand against her clit.

She grinds and explodes.

Shaking around my finger until she’s a spent mess on the bed.

I kiss her forehead. “Good girl.”

I need a stiff drink after that. She peels herself off the quilt and we both sit up. Her face is pink, her hair tousled. She looks thoroughly fucked and satisfied.

God, I’m proud of that.

“You go use the bathroom,” I say. “I’ll go down and get you some water.”

She nods, watching me closely as I rise to pull my shirt off. Then, she stands up and promptly falls over. I catch her in time, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“My legs are…shaking,” she gasps.

I can’t keep the self-satisfied smirk off my face. “Need me to carry you to the bathroom?”

She shakes her head, pushing my hand off. Her steps are unsteady, but she makes it to the bathroom. I get the fleeting impression of her pout, her flashing eyes, and then the door shuts.

I’m alone, standing by the bed stained with what we did.

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