“Why are you so nice to me when I keep pushing you away? Why do you keep trying? I’m broken, Deacon. Don’t you know what's good for you?” Campbell pleads.
“Yeah, I do, and it’s you. I want all of you, and if you are broken, I want all those shattered pieces, too. Please just trust me.”
Cam’s eyes fill with unshed tears as her bottom lip quivers. I grab her head on either side, running my fingers through her hair, pulling her toward me, bringing her mouth to mine. I feel her lips quiver as I taste her, ravishing her mouth. Cam’s hands wrap around my waist and she runs her fingers up and down my back. I explore her mouth, my tongue greedy to touch every part. She whimpers, and my dick throbs in a needful plea.
Fuck, I want this girl.
With a half sob, I scream into the air that's charged with the scent and flavor of sex, like an electrical storm of raw pleasure. I feel the warmth flush through my body and I lose my mind to the pleasure it brings. Deacon continues to taste below as he holds my quaking thighs. The ecstasy exits my pores, leaving my skin covered in head-to-toe goose bumps.
My shaking finally starts to slow as Deacon’s tongue mirrors the decelerating cadence. I breathe in and out, deeply trying to regain my equilibrium. My skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, my heart racing while my mind and body are in a post-orgasm utopian fog.
What the hell was that?