Chapter 13 #2
His dark eyes didn’t waver even as he chuckled softly. “What do you need, Jenny? Use your words.”
“I need you to make me come,” I breathed, meeting his eyes bravely.
His eyes heated further. “Very nice. Ask me.”
What was he playing at?
My desire cooled, and I struggled to sit up. “I just did!”
Pushing me back down, he brushed his knuckle over my clit.
My head fell back and I closed my eyes.
He did it again.
I held my breath, my legs quivering as I waited for him to do it again.
It had been so long.
My body was starving.
He didn’t move.
I writhed in his lap, nearly mindless with need as once more he teased me with the lightest of touch.
I raised my head to plead with him, my voice raw. “Please, Deacon.”
He was more dangerous than ever. Jaw tight, dark eyes hooded with passion, he stared intently into mine.
A frisson of fear raised a warning, telling me to flee.
Warning me he wanted more than I was willing to give.
But at that moment, I would have traded my soul for just one orgasm I didn’t have to self administer.
His hips rolled, his erection pressing against my cheeks on his lap.
Prepared to throw all caution into the wind, I pressed back into that delicious hardness, eliciting a soft grunt from his chest.
“Please, what?” he pushed, tension building in his large frame.
High spots of colour darkened his face. Lips parted, eyes diamond hard, he looked at me like I was the sweetest of treats.
I swallowed; my nerves alight by this side to him I never knew.
He liked me asking.
Maybe even begging.
“Please, Deacon,” I murmured.
He hummed low in his chest.
Feminine power rushed through me.
I licked my bottom lip, reveling as his eyes tracked the movement before returning to narrow on mine.
I blinked languidly, my body turning liquid under the heat of his gaze. “Please make me come.”
Firm, kissable lips straightened into a line as his hand found the waistband of my leggings and quickly tunneled into my panties to cup my sex.
I sucked in a sharp, shocked breath.
“You’re not going to top from the bottom, baby,” he warned.
“Sorry,” I gasped, though I had no idea what I was apologizing for.
His calloused fingers dipped to circle my entrance, shallowly fucking me before dragging all that sweet arousal up to torment my clit.
I mewled, a sound caught halfway between a plea and a sob.
“So swollen, so wet, so ready,” he rumbled. “You deserve this. You deserve to be pleasured within an inch of your fucking life.”
“Do it,” I demanded.
He chuckled softly.
How could he laugh and tease? Was he not as wound up and needy as I was?
Wrapping his hand around the nape of my neck, he angled my mouth to take his kiss.
Not slow and lazy and methodical but deep and hungry and demanding as his hips rolled underneath me and chased my thoughts away.
His other hand trailed up and down my slit, teasing my entrance, circling that oh-so-sensitive bud, and driving me higher with every pass.
I flexed my hand, wanting to touch him, but he held me fast.
His unrelenting kiss left me breathless, his fingers pushed me closer to the edge as they thrust inside me, first one, then two, before returning to my clit.
My head dropped back, the desire to free myself forgotten.
“You’re going to come for me, Jenny,” he growled.
“Okay,” I breathed.
“And you’re going to remember just who it is you belong to, who owns this sweet pussy.”
I cried out in shock at his words, but my body clamped around his fingers, fully onboard.
“Oh, yes,” he groaned, nipping my lip. “No one else will ever touch you. You’re mine.”
My body curled forward, my eyes squeezing shut as my legs began to shake.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let go. Give me all of it.”
My core clenched wildly around his fingers as his thumb gently pumped my clit.
“Beautiful,” he praised.
His lips nipped at mine, stealing every moan, every breath, as my orgasm rumbled through me like a freight train.
Gentling his kiss, his mouth wandered over my face as his fingers eased me through the aftershocks, dragging out the sweet torment until I lay limp in his arms.
“And I’m yours,” he promised, pressing one final kiss to my swollen, ravaged mouth.
“Thank you,” I breathed, lost in the sweet, hazy in-between.
“My extreme pleasure, baby.”
I trailed the tips of my fingers over his beloved face, lightly scratching the heavy layer of dark stubble shadowing his sharp jaw.
“Your turn,” I murmured.
He shook his head.
His rejection had the effect of dumping a bucket of icy water over my head.
“No, no, no,” he chanted. “It’s not that I don’t want you to, fuck me, of course I do. I just want you to be sure.”
“I’m sure,” I retorted.
He shook his head. “I don’t think you are.”
“Oh, I’m positive I want to finish what you started,” I snapped.
He laughed and pinched my chin. “Yes, so do I. But I also want more, so much more. The more that comes with you being sure about us.”
“Deacon,” I began.
“Jenny,” he interrupted. “This is as much for my protection as yours.”
My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He frowned heavily, his eyebrows lowering as he studied me.
“Part of me wants to tie you to me with sex and so many orgasms you won’t be able to sit without feeling me inside you.
The other part, the part that died without you, is fully intent on forging your heart to mine.
And I don’t want sex to blur those lines. ”
“You’re afraid I might walk away.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t I have a right to be?”
I swallowed.
There will be honesty between us.
“I understand.”
His lips tightened.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted.
Surprise splashed over his face. “No, sorry. It’s not your fault.” Pulling me back into his arms, he pressed his mouth to the top of my head. “Come on. I don’t want you to miss the bonfire.”
With Baxter and Maggie there, I hoped marshmallows would be the only things going up in flames.