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“No.” My voice is raspy, colored with want and a growing confidence that has been missing for months. Maybe for years.
With my hand on the center of his chest, I urge him backward, toward the desk he was sitting on when I came in. A devilish smile plays at his lips as he lets me have control, and my heart races, my pulse thrumming throughout my body with nervous courage.
When he backs into the desk, I step away again. His hands fall to the desktop on either side of him and his gaze warms even more.
“I want you to see me,” I say, my voice wavering but not my commitment to do this.
The way he studies me, his lips displaying a faint curve only broken by a slow pass of his tongue, drives me forward. I pull the hockey jersey over my head, dropping it by my feet but never once breaking our connection. A white cotton tank top thinly veils my hard nipples that ache for relief, which sends searing heat to my core. Scared but determined, I hook my thumbs in the band of my sweatpants and slowly work them down my hips until they fall into a puddle around my feet. I step out of the fabric, one foot at a time, my lips quivering as Cameron’s gaze slowly works its way down my body.
Vulnerable and cold, I drop my hands to my sides and flex my fingers as his heated stare glides from my breasts to my clenched stomach and the lace trim of my white panties. My eyes threaten to close, but I force them to remain open to take in every small flicker of his gaze. I want to remember each nuance of his smile, the tick of his jaw, and hungry breath. He has painted me with his eyes, taken in all of me, even the broken parts. And yet I still feel beautiful.
“You’re wrong, Cam,” I rasp.
His eyes flit to mine, squinting with suspicion.
“It is you who makes me beautiful. I feel the way I do because of the way you look at me.” My hands curl into fists and I nervously pat my knuckles against my thighs while Cameron steps toward me with his soft, one-sided smile and a shake of his head.
“No, Brooky,” he breathes, the back of his hand beginning at my jaw then trailing down my shoulder to the side of my body, his thumb lightly passing over my nipple and lighting me on fire. My eyes close automatically as I gasp, but open when his fingers trail back up to my shoulder, his other hand gliding up my other arm until both thumbs have swept the thin straps of my tank top over my shoulders. He leans in, his lips nipping at my ear, a faint, breathy laugh sending chills along my neck and spine.
“You are just fucking beautiful. But I can make you feel,” he says.
My eyelids grow heavy with want as I grow wet between my legs.
“You already are,” I whisper just before his mouth finds mine, leaving behind a soft kiss.
Cameron’s eyes dip lower, to my aching breasts, the rosy, puckered tips begging to be touched through the thin cotton. His hands wrap around the shoulder straps, pulling them down my arms until my nipples are barely shielded by the stretch of the collar. His eyes widen with sinful pleasure before one hand moves to my back and he leans into me, urging me to arch into his hold. My head falls back as he tugs the material lower with his teeth, my nipple hardening in the crisp air for only second before his mouth covers it and his tongue flicks against the sensitive peak. I moan, crying out when he sucks hard and lets go with a snap. My nipple aches for more, and my body arches toward his mouth, begging for relief. Low laughter, almost a growl, emanates from his chest, though, before he blows gently on my aching skin.
Cameron lifts me to stand straight again before tugging my undershirt down to my hips. He wastes no time continuing to strip me naked, rolling the shirt over the band of my panties and sliding them together down my legs. He kneels in front of me, pressing a kiss to my scarred skin above my knee, caressing my calf and guiding my foot from the fabric around my ankles. He does the same for the other, but remains on his knees after, his eyes worshipping each curve from my calves to my thighs. His hands slowly roam my body, his touch tender where I’ve been hurt. Skin I haven’t had sensation in for months feels alive with heat, and my core aches for me to clench, to relieve the swelling need growing between my legs.
Cameron’s hands slide around my body, following the curve of my ass until without warning, he stands, lifting me with him, his lips pressed to my stomach as he carries me as if I’m the weight of a feather.
In a breath, my ass is on the empty desk, and Cameron tugs me forward so I’m teetering on the edge. I barely have time to utter the wordwhatbefore his fingers rake down my thighs and he spreads my legs apart. I never get to the rest—are you doing—because my head instantly swims with ecstasy at the stroke of his tongue along my swollen middle.
“O-oh,” I stammer, falling back on my elbows and eventually lying flat on the desk.
Cameron’s palm travels up my leg to my stomach, his palm stretching wide and holding me still as his mouth caresses my hungry core. I pulse with every pass of his tongue as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge.
“Cam,” I eek out in a pant. I bring my fist to my mouth, biting myself and praying to hold on, to make this last forever. But I’m no use against his touch. His mouth controls me completely from below, sucking in my pulsing center as wave after wave detonates. My legs curl up, every nerve in my body fighting to run from the barrage of his punishing tastes yet the deepest part of me wants more.
I quiver under his touch, my palms flattening on the desk as he drags his tongue over my swollen and raw center one final time before standing between my legs. He runs his sleeve over his chin, his hungry grin nearly rabid now as I lay unable to speak, every breath coming hard and fast as I lay before him.
I arch my back slightly, a silent plea for him to touch my aching breasts, and his eyes flicker at the invitation. He slips each arm from his shirt, tossing it to the floor, then brings both hands to cover my breasts completely before centering on my nipples and holding each hostage with sweet pressure between his finger and thumb.
Inching toward the desk’s edge, I press my center against the hardness in his pants. He pushes into me at the contact, leaning over my body and dropping his head forward, his messy hair falling over his eyes. I dig my fingers into the soft waves, and he turns to kiss the inside of my wrist as I do.
“Cameron,” I rasp.
He brings his gaze to mine, his eyes heavy with want, lids heavy, lips swollen from kissing my body.
“I want this,” I hum. He holds my stare through several breaths. I nod. “I do. I want this. With you. All of it. I want you now, and I wantus.”
His nostrils flare.
“You want us,” he echoes my last words. I nod.
“Yes,” I breathe.
Cameron pulls his wallet from his pocket and slips out a condom, holding the packet in his teeth and never once taking his eyes from mine. Unzipping his pants and pushing them down, he pulls himself free as he tears the packet open with his teeth. I lift up slightly as he rolls the condom onto his cock, my center pulsing in anticipation.
