Molly’s hands skated across his shoulders. His powerful muscles bunched and flexed as he moved. Seeing the sheen of sweat on his forehead, she realized she’d never touched the shiny, hard skin on his head. And she wanted to. Bad.
He stopped moving. “What?”
“Can I put my hands on your head?”
“Yeah. But you don’t have to ask.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure if you liked it.”
Deacon put his mouth next to her ear. “I fucking love it. And you’ll love how it feels between your thighs when I fuck you with my mouth.”
Imagining his mouth licking, and sucking, and, god, biting the tender flesh there sent a delicious shiver through her, and she moaned.
“Molly.”
She refocused on him—sort of hard not to with him being right in her face and all. “What?”
“Are you trying to make me stop fucking you?”
“No! Why would you ask that?”
“Because of that sexy noise you made when you thought about me goin’ down on you. Jesus. I’m tempted to stop fucking you and start eating your pussy.”
Her face heated. Dammit. The man was naked on top of her, his dick stuffed inside her, and she still blushed when he said something dirty. Annoyed with herself, and him, she slapped his ass. “No pussy eating yet. Get moving.”
“Christ. This is not how I imagined the first time we fucked.”
“Disappointed?”
“Just that we waited this long. You feel so damn good.”
“So do you.” Molly slid her hands up the back of his neck, letting her fingers follow the contours of his skull before she stroked her palms over the smooth skin.
Deacon groaned and turned in to her touch, wanting more.
Speaking of sexy noises, she could get used to hearing Deacon’s grunts and moans as she learned what he liked.
Time seemed to stand still as they moved together. Kissing. Tasting. Touching. Until their bodies were slick with sweat.
“Deacon,” she murmured against his throat. “I need—”
“I gotcha, babe.” He lifted up to push her legs farther apart with the heels of his hands and moved back over her without missing a single stroke.
Every upstroke put direct friction on her clit.
She clung to him, holding herself rigid as she waited for the hot tingle that unleashed her pleasure.
“Relax,” he panted in her ear. “Don’t force it.”
“But I’ve always been responsible for my own orgasms.”
“Not anymore. Now they’re mine.”
Deacon’s soft, teasing kisses were in opposition to the hard-driving snaps of his hips.
When he changed the rhythm, she arched up, hanging on to him as her orgasm blasted through her. Her brain fragmented. She floated on a cloud of bliss until she realized the low rumble in her ear was his voice and he was trying to rouse her.
“Fuck, woman. You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She peeked at him from beneath slumberous lashes. “How long was I out after you fucked me into a coma?”
“No more than a minute.” The pride in his voice was unmistakable.
She shifted her body and realized his cock was still hard inside her. “Tell me what will get you there.”
“This.” He braced his hands beside her head and drove into her with short strokes, his eyes dark with primal lust as he watched her tits bounce. His head fell back and he came in silence, except for the shallow exhalations as if he’d gone a few rounds in the training room.
Molly stroked his scalp, loving the way he twisted his neck and angled his head so she touched him everywhere.
After Deacon caught his breath, he rested his forehead to hers. “You’re beautiful and you just rocked my fucking world. I never want to move from right here. But I’ve gotta be squishing you.” He watched her face as he pulled out. “You okay?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She stretched her arms above her head.
The bed jiggled as he scooted to the end.
She rolled onto her side, her eyes glued to the round globes of his ass as he went to ditch the condom. For the shitty way the day started, it sure ended with a bang.
It’s a slap in the face to your grandmother that a few hours after you bury her, you’re lost in lust. It’s disgusting how quickly you’ve forgotten your grief and sorrow as you pursue your own pleasure.
Molly curled onto her other side, squeezing her eyes shut at the ugly reminder of what this day had been.
The bed dipped. Deacon slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her body against his. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she snapped.