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“I wasn’t finished.”
“Sor–” he starts to apologize, but I won’t have it. He'll never apologize for anything again, if I have any say in it.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” I cut him off. “And when I’m done, you’re never going to want anyone but me to fuck you.”
The bold words slip past my lips, calmly, as though I’m stating an indisputable fact. He likely has no idea I’m terrified that wish won’t come true and that I’ll fuck this all up.
Gaping at my reflection, his irises widen as he absorbs my news. I don’t know if he’s even capable of speaking right now, but his acceptance is vivid in those blue pools of arousal.
“Nod, Cameron.”
There is no other nod as important as the one he gives me.
CHAPTER 18
Cameron
I hope that Pete is prepared to be responsible for my heart and soul because I think I just cracked open and let both spill into his capable hands. He knows me. Really knows me.
He might not know my favorite color or that I cry every time I see those commercials about mistreated dogs, but he knows my weaknesses. He’s named all my vulnerabilities through a cloak of healing words disguised as bedroom commands.
He stops the tortuous dragging of his cockhead right at my entrance. My ring spasms in greeting as though it had been waiting to finally meet that part of him. He’s teaching me things about my body that I never knew, and I thank my lucky stars that he’s the one imparting those lessons.
His grip gives my fingers a squeeze against the glass. “Ready?” he whispers, looking oddly tender.
Staring back at his diligent eyes in the mirror, I realize it’s another thing I like about him. He’s both light and dark. The sun and the storm. A firm, confident hand, and a passionate tenderness that I feel to my bones.
I nod because I think he likes it when I nod. I think I like it when I nod for him.
“Push, sweetheart.”
My heart gets hung up on that rogue endearment just as I feel him press forward. I forget to follow my instructions until a slicing sting shoots through the perimeter of my hole. I choke down a whimper and bear down on the intrusion. He’s not an intrusion. I want him there more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but it’s so much.
Just when I think the task is going to be impossible, his glans slides through my pucker. It’s heat inside of heat. I have him. It fucking burns, but I have him.
Hanging my head, I gulp for air and blow out breaths like I forgot how to breathe. He’s more pliable and warmer than my dildo, and while there’s a soreness surrounding him, I can feel tiny, euphoric vibrations all the way to my toes. They’re radiating from my prostate like it knows he’s close.
His breath comes in hot gusts against my neck as though the constriction is difficult for him. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me,” he grunts, sounding pained.
What have I done to him? Have I hurt him?
Blinking my eyes open, I’m embarrassed to find tears in them. He must notice them, too.
“Shit. Do you need to stop?”
“No.” I squeeze his fingers to convince him. “Don’t stop, just…give me a minute?”
“Take as long as you need,” he soothes, pressing kisses to the back of my neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Reaching around me, his palm strokes my stomach, settling the tension there. This whole night—the room, that tux he wore, the flowers, him—it’s not anything I expected, but everything I didn’t know I needed.
This is so much more than sex. It’s patience. Understanding. Compassion. Acceptance. Everything I’ve always wanted rolled up into one age-old act by the perfect man.
His words and tender touch are a lubricant, relaxing my apprehensive muscles. Like a switch was flipped, my body starts to accept him, letting him in deeper. His fingers trail over my cock, tracing around the tip and then encompassing my length, gently stroking until I’m so hard again that it’s almost painful.
I’m so full, I don’t know if I can take any more. Just when I’m about to voice my concerns, I feel coarse hair brush against my ass. His breathing has gone as ragged as mine. His grip on my hand, in a deadlock. He’s there.
Sighing in relief, I focus on the pleasure, knowing it’s there just under the surface of the initial discomfort. I can feel his heartbeat in his cock. I can feel it against my back, where his chest is pressed against my spine. I swear it’s synced with my own. He’s everywhere. I fucking love him being everywhere.
