Page 93 of Made to Be

“Before Ali left, she said something to you,” I began. “What was it?”

Cam’s lips lifted in a smile. “Well, she didn’t say I couldn’t tell you.” He leaned closer to whisper into my ear, “She asked if we’d read that booktogether yet.”

CHAPTER 17:

Frosting-fantasy-induced boners

and confessions.

IT TURNED OUT THAT cremating Ron's remains was far too easy when you were best friends with a morally gray mortician. It was a good thing I didn’t have the particular proclivity for killing people, because I could totally get away with it.

The most difficult problem we faced was ensuring our “victim” didn’t become a ghost and haunt our house. It had taken me several days to acquire all of the ingredients needed for the cleansing spell, but since it took so long, the Darkmage Web’s version of Reddit also helpfully explained how it would be safest to also perform an exorcism on the house as well.

Cover all our bases and all that.

It meant we’d had to say goodbye to our resident ghost, Sylvia, but according to Cam, she was more than ready to move on. Especially if it meant not being forced to endure the chorus of our “wild sexual escapades.”

Her words, not ours.

She still refused to reveal where the secret entrance to the hidden attic was though, so I was somewhat salty.

But even that couldn’t cloud my bubble of pure happiness as I sat at the kitchen table watching Cam baking the last batch of his delicious pumpkin scones. Well, more accurately, I was watching his ass as he bent over to pull the tray from the oven. Unholy shit, even in those sweats his ass was so round and pert. I just wanted to scamper over there and bite it. He’d probably like it.

It wouldn’t be the first time I jumped Cam when he was doing simple, mundane things. And it certainly wouldn't be the last. Only he could make things like doing dishes or laundry sexy.

Ever since our lovely, steamy getaway, our days at home were spent mostly, to my utter delight, naked.

We were insatiable for each other, and I considered myself to have a high sex drive, but I didn’t have the stamina for these all-day sex marathons, even though I wished to all the gods that I did.

Ever since that night in the hotel, we’d had sex basically every day, except for the day of “the incident.” It was practically all Cam wanted to do. Hell, I wasn’t much better, but I was barely keeping up. I was almost thirty! Was this much sex normal?

Just last night, when I say we had sex all night, I literally meant all. Night. We had made love for hours. There was hardly a moment where his dick wasn’tplugging my ass or my throat. Or when he wasn’t choking on mine. Every day, multiple times a day. So many times, that I truly couldn’t remember how many.

And it was everywhere.

Bent over the counter as I was making coffee, sprawled over my desk in my office at work, me in his lap on the sofa riding him, us in the shower with my back pressed to the wall and both of my legs in the air as he used my hips as leverage to plunge my body onto his cock over and over...

But after five days of this sex marathon, I was getting a bit sore. I swore my asshole had lost its ability to clench shut at this point. Cam could probably just bend me over and shove his dick inside me without the need to loosen me up at all.

I swallowed hard. Why was the thought of that so fucking hot?

“What in the world are you daydreaming about?” Cam questioned from...

“Satan, when did you get down there?” I startled with a jolt at Cam, who was kneeling between my legs from beneath the table.

He was deftly undoing the tie on my UFO pajama pants just above the very prominent bulge of my cock. When had I gotten hard?

Cam pulled down the hem of my pants with his teeth. “I asked you first,” he mumbled through a mouthful of fabric.

With no warning, he swallowed my cock in one go, lips pressing firmly against the thatch of hair at the base.

“Fuck, Cam,” I hissed as my head slammed back into the chair.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, and he hummed in approval. I knew what that meant, so I tightened my grip, pulled his head up then down over my dick, and proceeded to fuck his mouth.

It was so warm and wet and the pressure of his perfect suction was enough to drive me wild. He always applied just the right amount of pressure as his pierced tongue worked in tandem with those fluttering cheeks. I was embarrassingly close to release already. When he pulled back and flicked that piercing over the sensitive tip, I gasped sharply.

“What were you thinking about, baby?” he purred with another relentless lave of his tongue.