Chapter 13


    Smiling, I take the pillow off of my face when it gets too hot. When I do, I see a dark figure in the


    doorway and yelp, my heart racing a million miles an hour.


    Deacon stands there, a crooked smile on his face. “Hi,” he says.


    Flushed, I ask, “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?”


    I sit up and start to stand, but he says, “No, stay there.”


    It feels a little like I’m in trouble. Like when I did something wrong as a kid and I was made to stay on


    my bed and not move.


    Belonging ? N?velDram/a.Org.


    “I called in sick,” he says, moving toward the bed. Toward me. My breathinges faster. “I couldn’t


    stop thinking about you. There’s a connection here. I know you feel it.”


    I lean back until I’m lying on his bed, my breath nowing in heavy bursts as he leans over me. I nod


    because my voice is caught in my throat. He grabs my arms and raises them above my head. Letting


    out a low moan, I wee this aggressive side of him.


    He bridges the gap between us until our lips are touching. It’s a gentle kiss at first. An introduction, his


    lips getting to know mine. His are soft, yet eager. His weight settles on me, fingers curling in my hair. I


    love how his body fits perfectly with mine. Our hips and chests meshing together as if we were made


    for each other. I can feel his heartbeat against me, moving just as fast as mine. He seems so confident,


    but his heartbeat suggests he’s nervous too. Or maybe he’s just as excited to be with me as I am to


    finally be with him. I can’t believe this is finally happening. All my adolescent dreams areing true


    and I try to memorize the feeling of him against me, the sound of his breath, the smell of him, in order


    to keep this memory with me always.


    Our tongues meet, twisting and writhing. Limbs intertwine. I slip his shirt over his head, mussing up his


    hair. His skin is hot to the touch, taut over his muscles. I love the smoothness of him against my


    fingers. Looking down between us, I see his hard on straining to get out of his jeans. I’m all too eager to


    help him with that. He raises up to give me plenty of room to work as I unzip his jeans and slip my hand


    into his boxers, gasping when I feel howrge he is. How will that ever fit?


    A tendril of fear shivers through me when I think about the pain of having sex for the first time.


    Especially with someone so big. I know it’s not likely, but I can’t help but worry that it won’t fit.


    Somehow he manages to get his jeans off with one hand. His boxers slip down over his narrow waist,


    and I see just how intimidating he really is. I’m nervous, but at the same time I’m more turned on than


    I’ve ever been. His skin is smoldering and silky. I wrap my hand around his massive manhood, slowly


    stroking. He lets out a deep, masculine growl that sends goose bumps prickling up my arms.


    It’s as if I’ve awoken a beast. Suddenly he’s tearing off my clothes, his eyes feral with lust. I’m a rag


    doll, being bent and positioned roughly. This wild side of him is such a turn on, and I realize the


    difference between a boy and a man are worlds apart. My ex, Trevor, was a terrible substitute for the


    real thing.


    My clothes are off in seconds. He sits back, just looking at me. It makes me a little self-conscious being


    exposed like this, but the intense look on his face lets me know he likes what he sees and all I want to


    do is please him, so I make sure not to curl in on myself like I want. I stay open to him, let him see


    every part of me, every w, every freckle.


    “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he says in a deep, sultry voice.


    He’s kissing me again, licking, biting at my bottom lip, while his hands explore my breasts. I never


    really knew just how sensitive my nipples were until now. Every time he tweaks one, it sends a curl of


    lightning down to my clit which feels swollen and neglected while the rest of my body gets all the


    attention. But that’s okay, because I know when he finally does get around to touching me there, it will


    be worth the wait.


    He takes one of my breasts into his mouth, growling like a dog with a toy he doesn’t want to share with


    anyone else. He’s so possessive over my body. I’ve never felt this wanted, or lusted over before. Then


    he switches breasts, making sure each has its fair share of attention.


    When hees up for air, he says, “You have the most perfect tits.” He squeezes one and licks his


    way around the are. “And the cutest little nipples.” He takes them both, holding them. “These belong


    to me now,” he says possessively. “No one else can touch them.”


    “My entire body is yours,” I say desperately. “I want only you. I’ve always wanted only you.”


    He sits back, looking curiously at me, while still holding my breasts in his hands. “Always?”