Page 39 of Crashed
She was. She was desperate to have him inside her. He kept up with the torment, his other hand massaging her aching breasts, pinching and tugging her piercing. Right then, she could easily come from that alone.
“Undo my jeans. I need inside that hot little body.” His voice was low, full of hunger, barely restrained.
It was a command, demanding her acceptance, and sent another rush of heat between her thighs. She slid her hands between their bodies, and with trembling fingers, popped the button. Dragging down the zipper, she pushed his jeans and boxers low enough to free his straining hard-on.
His fingers dug into her thighs as he roughly shoved her skirt up around her hips. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
That was all he said before he pinned her to the wall, positioned his cock, and slammed deep inside her. She gasped at the intrusion, the feeling of fullness, of being taken. She was under no illusion that this was anything more than fucking of the most down and dirty variety. And that’s exactly what she wanted.
Deacon hissed when he slid out then thrust back inside her. “Is this what you wanted?”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a coherent sentence if she tried.
“You wanted to feel my cock deep inside you? Pounding into you?” He nipped her earlobe again, sucked the tender skin there. “Answer me,” he whispered harshly.
“Y-yes.”
He reared back, but there was no triumph like she’d expected, just raw animal need. He took her mouth then, and they ate at each other like they were starved. Tongues thrusting in time to Deacon’s thrusting hips slamming into hers.
He didn’t hold back, fucking her against the wall, using his strength to shove her higher, then slamming her down on his cock with every short, deep, jarring thrust. He rode her hard, so hard it was impossible to catch her breath, giving them what they both needed. Then he placed a hand on her hip, fingers digging into her flesh, holding her immobile, and looked down between their bodies, watching as he slid in and out of her.
“Ah, shit. Fuck,” he rasped. Then he seemed to snap, pinning her back against the wall. He pressed his face against her throat, his whiskered jaw rough against her skin, holding her so tightly she could do nothing but take it, take what he gave her. The only sounds in the room were Deacon’s grunts and her wanton moans begging him for more.
Tightening her arms around his wide shoulders, she held on as her building orgasm reached its peak and slammed through her body, ripples of pleasure radiating from her center to the tips of her toes. She cried out, digging her nails into his back as he fucked her through it. He kept going until she felt the next one start to build. Deacon stiffened, muscles going rock solid, then he planted deep inside her, hips moving with shallow, grinding thrusts as he came, and she went over again, with him this time.
When his breathing slowed, he kissed the damp skin between her shoulder and neck, traced her jaw, and took her mouth in a slow, deep kiss that curled her toes.
He said against her mouth, “I love how hungry you are for me.”
She didn’t bother denying it, was done fighting him.
What was the point? She wanted this, wanted whatever he could give her in the time they had left. There was no way to guard her heart, she knew that now. When the time came and he walked, it would hurt like hell, but she would get over it. She had to. Until then, she’d enjoy every damn minute. “I hope you have plenty of stamina.”
He smirked and stepped aside, tugging her skirt back down. “We’re going to walk out of here, and you’re going to tell my sisters you’re not feeling well. Then I’m taking you home, because, baby, the night has only just begun.”
He scooped up her torn underwear, put them in his pocket, and placing his hand on the small of her back, led her from the office. She did as he said, didn’t even think about fighting it.
Her friends were worried, disappointed that she had to go, but she forced down her guilt and convinced them to stay. Martin was going to give them a ride home when they were ready, so they could carry on having a good time.
Then Deacon took her hand, and she held his in return.
No, she clung to him, like a lifeline, happy to let him lead the way. Let him lead her blindly down a path she knew was dangerous and promised nothing but pain when they reached their destination, but she would walk it all the same.
The crowd was thick and pushed in from all sides, threatening to tear them apart. She leaned in close to him.
“Don’t let me go.” Her words came out kind of desperate, and if he’d been listening for it, gave away far more than she ever wanted him to know.
His fingers flexed around hers, and he turned to her, expression so intense, exhilaration spiked through her belly.
“I don’t plan to.”
Chapter Twelve
Deacon woke with a start, hand automatically going to the other side of the bed, seeking Alex. The sheets were cold…the bed empty.
His stomach dropped, disappointment slamming into him from all sides.
She’d fucking run, again.
