Page 40 of Deceive Me
Deacon didn’t bother waiting for a response. “Because you know what I’m gonna say, right?” One hand came up to cup the full weight of her breast.
Her shoulders went back automatically—a soldier under inspection, and yes, a woman desperate for one more touch. But it was the woman who spoke. “You want…?”
She couldn’t read his eyes, but she could feel his stare. It was focused on her barely covered breasts, the hard tips begging for his attention. “I want whatever the hell you’ll give me. Every time. All the time.” A thumb tapped one sensitive point, pulling a gasp from her. “Could I resist you? I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I just want you.”
Elliot let her eyelids slide closed, protecting her from the intensity of the moment, of his gaze. With a single deep breath, she let go. “Then take me, Deacon. Now.” Before I do something I’ll really regret, like come to my senses.
16
Elliot was good at hiding her emotions. There was no fear in her eyes as he advanced, his body and the hand still holding her breast forcing her backward. No uncertainty. The woman’s secrets even extended into the bedroom, it seemed.
The knowledge only made him want to push her harder, strip her bare—and not just her body. He wanted everything.
Her spine met the wall. Deacon didn’t stop until he was pressed flat against her, until there was nowhere else to go, not another inch to put between them. The sweetly supple mounds of her breasts yielded to the rigid plain of his rib cage. Diamond-hard nipples resisted the pressure, just like his cock did, pressed ruthlessly into the softness of her belly. When his fingers closed on her nape, she moaned, her head tipping back in surrender as his mouth came down on hers.
Nothing had ever tasted this good.
Sweet fire and melting need—that was the only way to describe her. Deacon pushed deep, his tongue sliding along hers, wrestling, circling, stroking. He tugged her tongue into his mouth and suckled it like he wanted to suck her nipples, her clit. Showing her how it would be. Elliot’s nails dug into his biceps.
Hold on, baby. Hold on.
Her rounded ass filled his big hands perfectly. He lifted until her core met his hard abdomen, her knees coming up to grip his hips just tight enough that she could drag herself up his swollen erection. When she slid back down, he grunted at the hard surge of semen begging to be released. “Elliot, God.”
“I…I need…”
She lifted again, dropped down. Again and again. Opening his eyes, he caught the desperation on her face, a tinge of something like fear. He didn’t want fear; he wanted her so lost in him, in them, that all she could feel was hunger.
With a single step back, he allowed enough space between Elliot and the wall that he could tip her against it, splaying her in his arms like a goddess waiting to be devoured. He intended to do just that. “Pull your top down for me, Elliot. Let me see you.”
Her hands shook as she reached for the neck of the tank she wore. Slowly, inch by inch, she eased the material over her firm mounds, over hard pink nipples, finally tucking it underneath. The shirt acted almost like a bra, lifting her to his needy mouth. Still holding her stretched out, ass in his hands, shoulders against the wall, he bent and took a tight tip between his lips.
Heaven.
At the first lick of his tongue straight over the top, Elliot bowed herself upward. Her earthy cry climbed a couple of notches when he sucked, lightly at first and then harder, pulling with all the hunger and desperation that had been roiling in his gut since the first moment he saw her. A palm between her shoulder blades held her writhing body steady as he feasted—there was no other way to describe it. He was ravenous, and she was the only thing that could satisfy his hunger.
Something pushing between their bodies finally distracted him, but only long enough for him to realize it was Elliot undoing the zipper of his fatigues. His cockhead pushed up as if begging for her touch, begging her to grip him and give him some relief. Maybe if he hadn’t chosen that moment to bite down on the nipple in his mouth, giving her the slightest edge of pain, she might’ve. As it was, the slide of her rough shorts over him caused a preliminary surge that came very close to ending this all too soon.
He needed control, and the only way to get it was to slow down. He didn’t think Elliot had the same goal in mind.
Time to take matters into his own hands.
He grinned against the valley between her breasts before turning his head to deliver light, sucking kisses around the inner curve of each. At the same time he wrestled his big hand down between them, into the loose waistband of Elliot’s shorts.
No panties, just heat, wet heat. He couldn’t hold back a groan. A frantic suck on her kiss-swollen nipple had Elliot rising into his touch, into the pleasure he showered her in.
His fingers found her lower lips and tucked between them. A slight shift of his hold on her ass and one slid inside.
Barely. She was so tight he wondered for a moment if she was, in fact, a virgin. But surely… Elliot was sexy as hell, a fighter. It had just been a long time for her, maybe as long as it had been for him—she was too tight for anything else to be true. But he had to be sure.
Releasing her breast, he demanded, “Tell me you’ve done this before.” Because God, he didn’t know how slow he could go.
Elliot opened drowsy eyes to stare up at him. “I’ve done this before.”
Relief filtered through him even as he shook with the need to line himself up and drive inside until she gloved him from tip to root, but he clamped down ruthlessly on the instinct to take. Elliot needed him to give first. He could do that. No matter what, he would take care of her. She wouldn’t break, but he might if he didn’t give her the tenderness she deserved.
Her arousal slicked the way as he withdrew, then tunneled back inside. He set up a rhythm, reaching deeper each time, brushing the swollen pad of her G-spot on every pass. Elliot strained to open her legs, open herself to his invasion, and he adjusted his hold so she could do just that. She surrendered her weight completely, allowing it to force her down on his fingers, to grind herself on his hand until she was mindless to everything but the pleasure he was giving her—exactly as he wanted her to be. When his rough palm abraded her sensitive clit at just the right angle, she detonated with a loud cry.
Motherfucker, she was beautiful when she came. And when she melted against him after? He couldn’t think of a single word worthy enough to describe the perfection of the moment.
