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Looking at Cam, I’m hit with a new wave of pleasure at the sight in front of me. His dark blue eyes are locked on to mine. His dark hair falls over his forehead, and his arms are flexed. The vision is enough to send me over the edge. I hold his stare, and he releases my clit, only to suck on it again harder, tugging slightly.
“Fuck, Cam,” I scream as I plummet over the edge.
His assault doesn’t slow as every nerve in my body explodes, waves of never-ending pleasure pulsing through me over and over.
“Give me one more, Little Dove,” Cam demands as he devours me again, the sensations more intense than before.
His fingers continue to thrust in and out of me as he sits up and hovers over me. His thumb presses my clit, matching the rhythm of his fingers.
His long cock rubs against my stomach as he leans his head down to mine, our foreheads rolling together. Reaching down, I grip him in my hand, which can’t even wrap around his hardened shaft, and pump him, feeling a drop of pre-cum fall onto me.
“Fuck, baby. Just like that,” he moans, and his eyes roll back.
I can’t help but stare at him, at how he reacts to every move I make. As I pump him, base to tip, I run my thumb over the tip, and his thumb works me harder and faster.
“Keep going. Don’t come yet. I’m almost there,” he growls as his breathing picks up.
I cup his balls with my other hand, massaging him as I continue to work his full length.
“Your pussy is so tight. I can’t wait to feel you stretch around my cock,” he groans, and I feel the second orgasm approaching.
He circles his fingers inside of me without missing a beat, his thumb changing direction. And that’s all it takes.
“Make me come for you,” he orders, and I grab his shaft with both hands, pumping him in long, hard strokes.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck. Yes,” he moans deeply.
His thumb twitches, and I’m hit with an explosion of pleasure. My head digs into the pillow as I come around his fingers.
“Fuuuck,” Cam calls out as he comes over my breasts and stomach.
We quiver as our orgasms tear through us and our breaths pant against each other’s lips.
“Cam,” I whimper. “That was…” I trail off. “The best.”
His breathing slows, and without a word, he kisses me gently and passionately. He kisses me until I only know myself as Cam’s girl. Not someone in hiding. Not someone with a fake name. But as someone who is undoubtedly his.
He pulls away and pushes off of the bed, turning to walk to the bathroom. And I see them—every mark on his back. Every inch is covered in scars, long marks stretching across his skin. His dad did that, hurt him. I can’t imagine having a father like that. The person he was supposed to be able to trust broke him. I can’t imagine the physical pain he felt, let alone the loss of any trust of a loved one. To him, anyone can hurt anyone. No one is assumed to be safe. He lives with that fear—that anyone can turn on him at any point.
A lot of which I can understand and relate to. He understands my darkness so well because he has a very similar darkness of his own.
He walks out of the bathroom with a towel in hand and cleans me up, wiping the wetness from between my legs before cleaning up the cum he decorated my skin with.
He throws the towel in the bathroom and grabs the shirt he had on earlier. “Here.”
Taking the shirt from him, I slide it over my head and envelop myself in the scent of Cam. “Thank you.”
He gathers his clothes on the floor and tosses them into the hamper, followed by my panties and clothes. I guess I’m sleeping commando tonight.
He grabs boxers and wiggles them over his hips before grabbing the TV remote and asking me, “What do you want to watch? Movie? Show?”
“Movie,” I say as he hits the lights and joins me in bed.
He pulls the covers back, and I crawl underneath them with him. I lay my head down on his chest, and he grabs a few strands of my hair, twirling them between his fingers as he searches for a movie to watch.
“You’re the first person, aside from Kos and Brett, who have seen my back fully. In showers after games, my back is always kept to the wall and is draped with a towel the second I’m done. No other girl ever has. I would blindfold them or keep my shirt on. But I wanted you to see me, every part of me,” he says casually, as if it wasn’t the most vulnerable statement in the world.
“Thank you,” I say, kissing his chest.
