Chapter 16 Closer #2
One hand rose to cup my ribs, his thumb caressing the underside of my breast through my bra.
My head fell back on my shoulders as his fingers traced the edge of my bra before stroking the swell of my breast and returning to my ribs.
I lifted my head, my eyes heavy with need and hazy with desire.
I’d never felt so alive, so heavy and present in my body.
His chest expanded as he inhaled deeply and seemed to settle. When he raised his eyes to meet mine, they were soft.
What is happening?
Ten years ago, he hadn’t exactly been domineering, but he certainly didn’t handle me like I was fragile.
My stomach burned with anger.
All my life I’d battled for every good thing I had. I lifted my chin and glared at him. The last thing I considered myself was fragile.
Impatience had me reaching behind my back.
I grappled with the clasp of my bra, and the darn thing fought back.
“There’s no rush, Jenny,” Deacon murmured, his hands sliding down to my hips before moving back up, teasing me with those barely there touches of his thumbs.
I gaped at him.
Why not? Why isn’t there any rush?
My skin goose-pimpled under his hands.
Life offers no guarantees. You take the good when it comes.
He’d barely taken the edge off the last time he touched me. I wanted more. I needed more.
You wanted me in this, Deacon? I’m in it.
My core clenched on nothing.
“We’re not teenagers, Deacon,” I snapped, abandoning my quest to rid myself of my bra. “Is this some control thing? You get off on making me wait?”
Mouth flattening into a displeased line, he shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t want you for just a night or two. I told you I want you to be sure you want us before we take this next step.”
Is he scared?
Maybe he doesn’t want me the way he used to?
Have I changed that much?
Has he?
I tilted my head to the side, curiosity mixing with the hurt.
I’d spent my life running from men, now that I wanted one, he didn’t want me back the same way? There was something cruelly ironic about the whole situation.
Had something happened to him overseas to change him?
“Do you not want me?” I ventured.
He huffed out a pained laugh. “If you knew the things I want to do to you, you’d run.”
“I’m not running,” I declared decisively. “And I want to know everything.”
His eyelids dropped to half-mast. “You want me to show you what I want from you?”
“Yes,” I declared, throwing in a head nod to make sure there was no miscommunication.
Leaning forward, he reached around my back and licked up between my breasts. My bra fell off in his lap.
Eyes hooded, he ordered, “Stand up.”
I moved to get off his lap.
“No.” He grasped my hips. “Stand up on the couch. Right here. One foot on either side of my thighs.”
“What?” I laughed, the sound high-pitched.
His mouth firmed, and he patted my hip. “Up.”
Holding my hands to keep me steady, he helped me stand.
“Oh my God,” I wheezed, my kitty directly in line with his face.
Holding my waist, he leaned in and pressed his nose to my mons. “Lovely,” he muttered gutturally before hooking his finger over the waistband of my panties and tugging them down. “Let’s get these off.”
“Uh, Deacon,” I began, stepping out of my panties.
He looked up at me and shook his head. “No, Jenny. You wanted me? You’re getting me.”
“You, uh, want to do this?” I confirmed.
His dark, serious eyes held mine as he ran his hands up and down the backs of my thighs. “Like nothing I’ve ever wanted before in my life.”
“But, like this?” I squeaked.
“I’ll show you exactly how I want it,” he assured me.
My throat dried.
Like this, I was maybe not open but definitely on display.
Like this, I was practically pushing my kitty in his face.
He stroked the back of my knee, and I quivered.
“This knee is going to go on the back of the couch beside my head.” He tapped my other leg. “This leg is going to stay here and help you ride my face.”
I was way, way out of my element.
Without waiting for me to move, he hooked his arm under my thigh and drew my knee up to the couch.
“Ah, fuck yeah,” he rasped. “Look at you.”
He kept his arm under my thigh and reached to brace my waist. His other hand held my hip firmly. And then he tugged me forward and nuzzled the neatly trimmed hair covering me.
“Reach down and open yourself to me,” he instructed.
Body quivering, hands shaking, I reached down and parted my lips to his seeking tongue.
At the first touch, my hips jerked forward and I cried out.
He chuckled softly. Shaking his head slowly back and forth, he covered his mouth in my juices.
“Deacon,” I moaned, my hips circling. “More.”
His grip on my waist tightened, and he gave me more. Tongue, lips, teeth and that delicious scruff that abraded my thighs and sent tremors clear through to my womb.
There was no describing this bliss.
I rocked back and forth, forgetting my precarious position for the moment while he teased and sucked and licked and hummed against me.
He took me to the edge, my body tensing in preparation, before easing off only to drive me up once more.
I grasped his hair in my fist and held his face to my core and rubbed up against him like a cat.
“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “Take your pleasure like the very good girl that you are.”
“Oh, God,” I cried, my core clenching around nothing, aching for him to fill me even as he sent me spiraling into ecstasy until my legs gave out.
He eased me back down onto his lap and covered my mouth with his, forcing me to taste myself as aftershocks trembled through me.
I deepened the kiss.
“You like that, precious? You like to taste yourself on my mouth?”
“Yes,” I admitted roughly. Eyes closed, I could only feel and taste.
“You taste good, don’t you, baby?” he prodded, pulling my lip into his mouth and nipping it.
I nodded. “Now you,” I breathed, licking my essence off his chin.
“I don’t need—”
“I do,” I interrupted, my eyes flying open. “Give me you. Please.”
He turned his face to the side, the muscle in his jaw feathering. Ignoring my protests, he lifted me off his lap and set my feet on the floor before standing and moving in front of me.
“You want me?” he asked gruffly.
I nodded, raising my hands to his shoulders and going up on my toes to kiss his mouth.
He fisted the back of my hair and held me immobile. Mouth firm and unyielding, his lips met mine and his tongue delved inside.
Tasting.
Stroking.
Pulling me up to my toes as he took what he wanted.
And gave more.
“You sure you want to go further?” he gritted out, drawing back.
I smiled and repeated his words from before. “Like nothing I’ve ever wanted before in my life.”
Eyes hooding, he gave a short nod and stepped back. “Kneel.”
I dropped and tipped my chin up to face him.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” His eyes, filled with heat and rampant with hunger, ran over my face. “Take my cock out.”
I tugged his boxers down his thighs.
“Did I say to take my boxers off?”
I startled, my eyes flying up to meet his. “No?”
His face softened. “Take them off.”
More cautiously now, I tugged them down his muscled thighs, moving slowly to await his instruction as my hungry gaze traveled over every perfect inch of him.
“Lick your palm.”
I tentatively swiped my tongue over my palm.
“More,” he demanded. “Make it wet.”
Cheeks flaming, I did as he asked.
“Very good, sweetheart,” he praised. “Wrap your hand around my cock.”
The red, swollen head of his cock wept for my attention.
Every part of me wanted to lean forward, eliminate the tiny space between us, and lick that glossy drop off its tip.
Instead, I drew in a steadying breath. Bracing one hand against his hard thigh, I wrapped my fingers around his hard length and lifted my chin to look into his eyes.
He hissed, his hips jerking forward just once, then he settled back onto his heels. “Are you still with me, baby?”
I nodded. “I’m with you.”
“We can stop at any time. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or scared. As soon as you are, you tell me. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”
“I’m not scared of this, Deacon. Take me where you want to take me.”
His cock pulsed in my hand as he released a shaky exhale.
“Okay, baby, stroke. Nice and light. I’m not interested in coming yet and after tasting you, I’m really fucking close.”
Finally, I had him in my hand, stroking up and down his length, and I couldn’t look away from his face.
Mesmerized by the light in his eyes.
The twitching muscle in his jaw.
The firm set of his beautiful mouth.
“Harder, baby. Up over the head and back down.”
He groaned as I complied and wrapped his hand over mine.
Reaching down, he tangled his other hand in my hair. “Pinch your nipple.”
I blinked, losing my rhythm for a moment.
His hand over mine tightened. “Nipple, baby.”
I tore my hand away from his hard thigh and cupped my bare breast before taking my nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
Watching his face, I pinched.
Hard.
He hissed, his hips jerking forward.
Reaching down, he cupped my jaw and held me in place as his grip over my hand tightened and he jerked harder.
His dark eyes dropped to my chest, a grunt of satisfaction breaking from his lips as the first hot spurt of come hit my chest.
Hips jerking, his grip on my jaw relentless, he painted my breasts.
Marking me.
Making me his.
My whole body began to shake.
Panting, he dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms around me, and pressed his forehead to mine.
“Holy moly,” I gulped, my hands pinned to his chest.
“We didn’t do anything we haven’t done before,” he murmured, his voice soothing me as his hands ran over my back.
I sucked in a breath then snickered. “We didn’t do it like that.”
He held me tighter.
“Next time I want to taste you.” I inhaled deeply, filling my senses with all that was him.
He smelled like peace and home and safety.
His big hands splayed across my back, and he pulled me closer. “I love you, Jenny.”
I flinched.
“You don’t have to say it,” he murmured. “Just know I do.”
I couldn’t say it. Not yet.
Saying ‘I love you’ was tantamount to raising the white flag, rolling over onto my belly, falling to my knees.
And not in the way I was now.
“I can’t—” I dug my fingers into the muscles of his chest.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his big, warm body countering the sudden chill in mine. “When you feel safe enough, you will. I look forward to that day.”
I swallowed past the tightness in my throat and pushed in closer.
“Me too.”