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“Jesus Christ, Cam.”

The words come out strangled, barely coherent. I’m still staring at him in shock, watching the way his throat works around me, the way his eyes water but don’t close, the way he’s just…taking it. This is only his second time doing this, but he’s already taking me like he was born for it, like his throat was made to fit around my cock.

I push deeper, testing, half expecting him to pull back or gag or show some sign that I’ve gone too far, but he takes it. His throat closes around me, swallowing, and the feeling is so intense that I start to fuck his throat without meaning to, without deciding to, my hips moving on their own. I can’t help it. I should probably stop, should ask if he’s okay, should be more careful with him, but I can’t make myself stop.

I look down at him, and his eyes are still open, still watching me. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

“You take my dick so well, baby.”

He looks fucking beautiful, his lips stretched around me, tears starting to stream from the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t stop.

“I love how your body takes me so perfectly.” The words spill out of me. “Like you belong to me.”

He sucks harder, like the words turn him on, and I feel myself getting close.

“Fuck—”

I try to pull away, give him a chance to move, but he grabs my hips and holds me there, refusing to let me go.

I come, and he swallows all of it, his throat working around my tip as he does. I knock the hat off his head and stroke his hair as he milks me.

“Wow, Cam,” I say, still trying to catch my breath. “You swallowed my load. That was so hot.”

He looks pleased with himself, proud, even, and plops down next to me on the bed with a satisfied sigh.

I lie sideways facing him, and place my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat race beneath my palm.

Mine.

“I need to ask you something,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

“Who did you practice this with at St. Silas? There must have been someone.”

I hesitate.

He bites his lip while he waits for my answer.

“I need you to trust me,” I say. “Which I realize is hard because of the whole catfishing thing. I can’t tell you because I promised him I wouldn’t tell.”

His eyes grow big and manage to shine, despite the dim light. “No. If we’re an ‘us,’ then you don’t keep secrets from me.”

I sit up.

“Okay. You’re right. But I still can’t tell you. Do you want me to be someone who breaks promises?”

“Hmm, okay. But, how long…were you with him?”

“We started hooking up during our last year. I learned more in that year than all the years combined. He was easy to learn from.”

I laugh at the absurdity of the education my parents really paid for.

Cameron’s eyes darken.

“Oh, baby, you’re jealous?”

“I’m not,” he says, but he’s pouting.