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Her shoulders rise with her inhale. She clears the food from her lap and sits a little taller, her hands resting on her lap as she prepares herself to speak. To share whatever it is that’s been going on inside of her mind.
“Declan and I are getting a divorce.”
I clamp my mouth shut, unsure what to say or if I should tell her what I have to share. She stares at me, fidgeting with her fingers and biting her plump bottom lip, looking more uneasy than ever.
Camille has always been sure of herself and her actions, so seeing her act shyly about this makes me feel awkward.
“That’s why I went to New York. He moved back a couple of weeks ago. When I realized that’s what I wanted, I went to tell him face-to-face. Telling someone you don’t want to be married to them anymore isn’t exactly something you should do over the phone.”
A better man wouldn’t keep such an explosive secret as I’m keeping. A better man would tell her he has a pregnant wife at home.
A better man wouldn’t even find himself in this situation. He’d leave the past in the past, not have a wandering eye, and would be home with his wife, sharing her excitement about the pregnancy.
By now, we’ve established that I’m not the better man. I’m a selfish man.
The selfish bastard who takes whatever he wants without worrying about the consequence and without worrying about who can—and will—get hurt.
When I first found out Karina was pregnant, I told myself that I'd stay with her. But I don't want history to repeat itself, and why should I be unhappy just because we have a child? Our child should have happy parents, so I thought about it and realized that I still want a divorce. We can co-parent. I want Camille and hope she'll accept me with a baby on the way.
Instead of telling Camille any of the things I should, I pounce on her, laying her down until her back is flat on the blanket and I’m hovering over her. In an instant, her breathing intensifies, her lips part, and her green eyes become dark with lust.
We don’t speak with words. Our mouths collide, and we let our tongues do the talking. Surely she knows me well enough to know when I’m hiding something or when I have something else on my mind, but she doesn’t press me to share my news, so for that, I’m thankful.
Camille knows exactly what I need right now, in this moment, and she gives it to me without question.
What I need is her. All I need is her.
Her body.
Her mouth.
Her warmth wrapped around me.
It’ll always be her.
“I need you, Cam. Need to feel your perfect pussy wrapped around me, need to feel your warm mouth wrapped around me, need your taste in my mouth. God, I need you so bad I can’t even think straight,” I admit, kissing from her lips down the length of her neck.
In the distance, I can hear the ping of a cell phone. It pings once, twice, then a third time. For a moment, the thought of checking my phone passes through my mind, but the second a soft moan escapes Cam’s lips, I forget all about our phones. “I need you too, Dean. Right now, I need your mouth on me.” I don’t need to be told twice. We pull apart, both sitting up and frantically undressing, removing every ounce of clothing between us.
“Lie back,” she commands, so I do. I lie on my back and watch her movements. She reaches toward her purse, takes something out of it, then crawls back toward me.
One thing I’ll never get tired of is seeing this fucking girl down on all fours for me, crawling to me with a hunger in her eyes that only I can satisfy.
Once she reaches me, she opens her hand, showing me what she grabbed from her bag; a chuckle breaks free at the sight of the pop rocks.
This fucking girl amazes me.
Camille tears open the bag of watermelon pop rocks candy, tilts her head back, pours some into her mouth, and then sets the rest of the candy beside her.
Just as the candy starts popping loudly in her mouth, she lowers her head to my swollen member and swallows my cock whole without warning. The candy pops and crackles against my shaft, my cock twitching with the sudden burst of pleasure.
Her mouth is warm and wet and sends chills up my spine. My body jerks when she swallows, her throat tightening around me, the candy popping against my hard skin. I don’t bother controlling the moans and groans that leave my lips. I want her to know how amazing she is and how good it feels.
Gathering her silky hair in my hands, I hold it away from her face, keeping a firm grip.
Cam circles her tongue around my engorged head, the candy continuing to pop in her mouth and her throat as she sucks me deeper. She swallows, tightening her throat around me.
She gags, drooling from the sides of her mouth as she begins to bob her head, hollowing her cheeks, sucking me like I’m the greatest thing she’s ever tasted. It’s embarrassing, but with how great her tongue is, I don’t think I’ll be able to last, and I desperately want to feel her coming on my tongue at the same time as I come in her mouth and make her swallow it.
