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I need this more than I need to be well.
“Cammy?” Even I can hear the sadness in my voice.
“Gael, lose your clothes and get onto the bed.” He doesn’t turn around to look at me, instead keeps rummaging inside a drawer.
The words hit me as much as his sweet and tempting tone does, and I’m quick to follow his orders. My body, my injuries, my scars, nothing can stop me from jumping naked into the bed in front of me.
Between curses directed at the clothes I’m wearing, and the pangs of pain I get from contorting to get everything off as quickly as possible, I keep my eyes on Cammy. I don’t want him to change his mind. I want him hot and bothered, and so lost to reality he forgets about the past, the injuries, and the future. I want him here in the present, in this room, in this moment.
With my eyes on him, I approach the bed and slowly lower myself on top of the sheets, after pulling the duvet back and placing the pillow against the headboard.
When I’m settled, I watch Cammy circling the bed until he’s close to me. He places what I think is lube on the nightstand, followed by condoms.
Then his attention turns to me, and not only does my body react with goosebumps at his lustful gaze, but my heart also sings grateful words to him because he’s not making an issue of what I did before this. Even my cock rises to the occasion, as if calling Cameron to touch it and make it sing as loud as my heart is.
After a quick glance that touches every single part of me, he moves backwards.
“Don’t—“ But I can’t continue, because he places a finger on my lips, then takes a step forward and leans in to kiss me. Only our mouths are touching. When I move to pull him close, because I need more, he steps back and smiles at me. Then, with a calculated move, he slides his hands down his chest, touching his nipples and making them visible through the fabric, and making me want to bite them until he’s asking for more.
While my gaze is captivated by him, I follow his moves on my own body, exciting myself more and more. When he reaches the hem of his top and stops, I want to hurry him up, but then he pulls it off with one fluid movement, and his white chest is there for me to ravish. If only he wasn’t so far from the bed.
He smirks, as if reading my mind, places his hand on the button of his trousers and opens it, and then his fingers are at the zipper, playing with it. I lean forward when the sound of it sliding down fills the room, and it makes my heart pound and my breath speed up, as if each tooth is caressing and enticing my body.
Once it’s open, he puts his hands on the sides, slips his thumbs in between the fabric and his skin, and with a sinful twist of his body, pulls them down to his knees. Then gently, as if he doesn’t want me to miss a moment of his show, he pushes them down to his ankles and raises his beautiful feet, one at a time, out of the heap of clothes on the floor to stand in front of me. As naked as when he was born. He steals my breath, my heart, and my soul. One look, and I’m his forever.
“Come,” I say in a strangled voice. And I nearly cry when, without even thinking of denying me, he takes those few steps until he’s standing next to me.
I place my hand on his hip, and he moves closer, then leans in and kisses me. I devour his mouth, eager to taste even more of him, while with my hand I guide him to straddle me, and I don’t stop until his cock is touching mine and his ass is resting on my thighs.
“Hi,” I say to him, once I force myself to stop kissing him. I fall in love—deeper in love—with the shy smile he sends my way.
“Hi,” he says back. His rosy cheeks, and eyes, shining like diamonds, are bringing me back to when we were teenagers, and nothing was more important than us.
I bring my hand to my mouth and lick it, then under his watchful eyes, getting darker with lust, I go to town, wrapping it around his already leaking cock. He bucks from overstimulation at the first touch, when I slide my hand up, but his hips follow my upward movement for a second and then stop. Just to raise up when I slide my hand down. Soon, he throws his head backwards, exposing his neck, while his hips move up and down. When I stop to gather a drop of his pre-cum, he complains, just to groan in pleasure when I stimulate his small opening with the nail of my thumb.
I pull away, and his eyes fly open and settle on me, his mouth taking on that bratty shape I love so much and that drives me wild.
“Don’t stop.” I love how he orders me around in the throes of passion.
I don’t have any intention of stopping. What I want is to have him sprawled on the bed with me inside him.
“Let’s make ourselves comfortable. Lay with me.”
“Nope.” His answer is cut and dried, as if nothing I say will change his mind.
The excitement and passion seem to have flown out of the window, leaving me stunned.
“We’re doing this my way,” he says, and leans towards the nightstand to pick up the lube. “Get me ready, and I’ll ride you until we’re both out of breath and out of steam.” His wicked grin brings me closer to release, and shakes the weight sitting on my chest at the thought of stopping what we’re doing.
“Oh, please do that,” I say, trying to sound smug, and instead come off sounding all choked up.
Fuck, what he does to me should be illegal.
His furrowed brow and gaze, moving between my hand and the lube have me chuckling. And that earns me a smack on my shoulder.
“I’m going to die of old age if you don’t do something.” Again, his gaze moves from my empty hand to the lube in the other.
This time, under his stare, I don’t chuckle. Instead, I squeeze some of it onto my fingers, smearing it between them, and I smile at his sigh of relief.
