Page 121 of Fumbled Into Love

Afternoon Tea.

Dinner.

Supper.

“Each tag correlates to a tray of food tailored to a specific time during one of the three movies. Extended edition, of course. The food for the afternoon and evening is in the fridge,” I say, needing to fill the silence as Deon creeps around the space. “We need to start the first movie at eight, or else we will be behind schedule.”

“Nathalie, what is all this?”

Maybe I should have given him more time to wake up because it seems pretty clear. It’s to celebrate his birthday in the way he would want. A quiet space watchingLord of the Ringswhile eating all the food he enjoys.

“Didn’t you see the sign?” I point at the door.No admittance except on party business.“This is your party. You, me, and Gordie watching Orlando Bloom do his thing while we gorge ourselves on food.”

Deon stands in the center of the room, slowly spinning and I anxiously wait, desperate to know what he’s thinking. Does he hate it? Did he already have plans?

When he faces me again, something swimming in his gaze I’ve never seen before and it threatens to bring me to my knees. Deon gulps, hand shaking slightly when he whispers, “I love it.”

Before I can comprehend what’s happening, Deon’s smashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. I ravish his mouth as I attempt to crawl up his body. Deon’s hands smooth down my ass and hike me into the air and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“You didn’t say artichoke,” I mumble, but he steals the complaint with another kiss.

“You did,” he responds, a cocky smile on his lips as he leads us to the couch.

“The schedule,” I moan.

“Fuck the schedule,” he responds, throwing me onto the cushions and dropping to his knees. My stomach bottoms out, my core clenching as he rips the clothes from my body, leaving me bare before him.

“Oh, god!” My hands whip out to clutch onto the pillow as his tongue slides against my slit teasingly.

My head spins as he devours me.

The sudden zap of pleasure strikes me in the chest and I’m flying off the handle as Deon slides a finger inside me, timing his movements with his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” I moan as his tongue flicks against my clit, sending electrical shocks along my skin.

“I don’t plan on it,” he mumbles against my skin as he slides another finger with the first. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he says, adding a third finger.

The stretch begins to sting when his tongue swirls around my clit and my core clenches, the tingles of an orgasm slowly beginning to build, brick by brick. I nearly skyrocket off the couch when he sucks my clit between his lips.

“Shit.” It’s the only word left in my brain as he teases me, reducing his pace until I’m wreathing on the couch.

“I want to hear you beg,” he demands, placing soft kisses against my inner thigh, torturously close to where I want him. My hands latch onto his head, attempting to move him, but he shakes me off.

I immediately cave.

“Please.”

Like a man starved, Deon devours me and I hold on for dear life as he licks and nips. “Up,” I say vaguely, hoping he understands the instruction.

I’m close but I need more.

Deon slides his tongue north and his free hand slides across my torso, taking my nipple between his fingers, pulling and twisting the pebbled bud.

“It’s happening,” I moan, shocked every time I manage to orgasm with Deon. Maybe it's the safety of knowing he’ll listen to what I need. My vision blasts with white light as pleasure curls down my spine, blossoming from my chest to my limbs.

My legs begin to spasm as Deon slides his tongue up my slit one last time.

“Hearing you come is the most beautiful sound in the world,” he says as he kisses me, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue.

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