Page 41 of Deceive Me
When the clenching of her channel finally eased, he pulled out and gathered her body tight against him to walk across the room to the bed. Only laying her out on the cushioned surface brought a response, a protest.
“Shh. I’m coming, love.” He stripped them both, then lay down alongside her, one arm pulling her close.
Her eyes opened. “Deacon?”
“Yeah?” Could his voice get any gruffer? But it didn’t seem to bother Elliot. Her hand came up to trace along his stubbled cheek, the tightness in his jaw as he fought for control. When her fingers reached his mouth, he sucked them in, laving them over and over as he watched arousal blossom in her eyes once again.
“Are—” Elliot’s lips tightened, then relaxed. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more fucking sure of anything in my whole life than I am about having you.”
A smile replaced the worry in her gaze. “You say the sweetest things.”
“Like ‘fucking’?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Leaning down, he nuzzled her neck right behind her ear. “Fucking, fucking, fucking, fucking.” A lick, a deep, deep breath until the only thing in his awareness was the scent of her, the feel of her breasts rubbing his arm as she chuckled. “Fuckin’ A, Ell.” He settled his body completely over hers, enjoying the feel of her tiny form overwhelmed by his much larger one. “Let me please you again. All the way. Let me have you. Now.”
“Yes.”
His heart stuttered at that single whispered word. Propped on his forearms, he dragged his chest over hers, the rough hair abrading her nipples until they stood up for him once more. Until her breath was a quick, rhythmic gust against his skin. Until she squirmed restlessly beneath him, trying to get closer, trying to escape, but his arms pinning her shoulders and his legs between hers kept her caged.
“Deacon, please. Kiss me. Touch me.”
He did. Her lips were swollen, a soft cushion beneath his, but they moved against him, at once tender and hungry. Her mouth opened, and he breathed into her his own need. The thrusting of his tongue, the wet slide of her around it, echoed like an electric shock throughout his body. A ricochet of pleasure and the pain of waiting chased it.
Settling his pelvis against Elliot’s core felt more right than anything in his memory…except the wet slide of her open labia along his erection. The way her knees lifted and tilted outward to make room for him. The heat of her hands as she began to stroke his stomach, his sides, his back. It was all exactly right. And when he shifted back, centered his cock at her vagina, and pushed slowly inside—that was the ultimate perfection.
His groan mingled with Elliot’s. The tight clasp of her strangled him, shot pleasure through every cell in his body, even as the fit of him inside made him sweat. Elliot—she lifted to meet his entry, but there was also a grimace of pain twisting her full mouth. Deacon kept going, kept pushing, but lowered his lips to nuzzle at the sensitive skin of her neck. At his kiss, Elliot contracted around him.
“Fuck.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Elliot’s voice was nearly as strangled as his dick.
He tried a little side-to-side shifting. “Open up for me, Elliot. Let me in.”
Her back arched, the curve of her neck so beautiful in the faint light from the nearby monitor. “I’m trying.”
Deacon retreated, advanced. It took three thrusts to push in to the hilt. When Elliot squeaked at the brush of his cock against her cervix, he held still. Not Elliot—she writhed on him like a worm stuck on a hook.
It had definitely been a long damn time for her.
“Shh. Shh.” He nipped her throat, the join of neck and shoulder. Down to one full breast. “It’s all right. Take your time.” He traced the plump mound with his tongue, his breath. “It’s all right.”
“Why did you have to be so goddamn big?”
He chuckled. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“It wasn’t a compliment,” she complained. Wiggled some more. “I’m lodging a protest.”
“Really?” Planting his knees, he pulled back until only the tip remained inside her. On the return he angled to glide along her G-spot.
Elliot choked.
“Still protesting?”
Her knees canted higher, along his ribs; her pelvis tilted, allowing him deeper. “I don’t think so.”
