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Then, and only then, did he kiss her. Slow and deep and exploring as if he hadn’t had his mouth all over her body not too long ago. He kissed her until she seemed to come back to herself, until she wrapped her legs around his waist and writhed beneath him where he had her pinned to the bed.
He pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach. Cameron smoothed a hand down her spine, enjoying the way her muscles flexed beneath his touch and her ass rose in offering. She had freckles smattering her back and the curves of her ass, too, and he reached between her thighs to stroke her pussy as he mentally traced the path he planned on taking. He had the fanciful thought that one day he’d like to paint constellations on her skin.
“Oh God, I don’t know if I can go again.” She moaned against her pillow. But her hips moved to meet his hand again and again.
Cameron leaned down and set his teeth against the back of her neck. “I’m not through with you, Trish.”
“Oh, well, then... Carry on.” She laughed helplessly, the sound turning into a moan as he pushed two fingers into her.
“Ride my hand, Trish. Take what you need.” He kissed down her spine, straying to one side or the other to trace her freckles with his tongue. Her hips bucked against his hand, but he held steady, needed to feel her come apart again.
She went still with a shudder. “It’s not enough. I need your cock.”
The words made him harder than he’d ever been. He forced himself to give the small of her back the same care and attention he’d spent on the rest of her body, but he was more than ready to meet her need as he nudged her knees farther apart and notched his cock in her entrance. He fed her inch after inch, keeping her still with a hand on her hip until he was sheathed to the hilt. He closed his eyes, but the sight of her was too much to resist.
This time, there would be no holding back. He needed this—her—too much.
Cameron gripped her hips and brought her back as he thrust forward. She cried out, and he almost stopped, but Trish reached back and bracketed his wrist with a hand. “Harder, Cameron. I need more.”
“I need it, too.” He gave himself over to the feel of fucking her, her pussy clamping tight on him with every stroke, her cries and the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. She came with his name on her lips, and he followed her willingly over the edge with a curse of his own.
As Cameron slumped onto the mattress next to her, he was struck by the thought that he might follow this woman anywhere.
Trish stared at the ceiling and wondered when the hell her life had taken a hard turn into crazy town. Was it when she moved back in with her parents after college? When she’d agreed to take the job working for Aaron? The second she set eyes on Cameron O’Clery?
Wherever the tipping point was, the end result had her naked and breathing hard with the taste of Cameron lingering on her lips.
She’d loved every second of it.
“Aaron can’t know.”
She closed her eyes and counted silently to five—and then to ten. “Did you think I was going to run straight from being in bed with you to call my brother and tell him we just had sex?”
A pause and, despite not looking at him, she could almost see the gears turning in Cameron’s head as he mentally replayed what he’d just said. He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t tactful.”
“You think?”
His big hand settled on her stomach. “Trish, look at me.”
She didn’t want to. Opening her eyes meant having to fight to reclaim the mask, and she didn’t have the energy right now. Being bright and positive had been her go-to thing for so long, she didn’t always notice she was doing it. It barely took effort anymore to smile and make people’s days better.
It took effort with Cameron. So much freaking effort. Mostly because he insisted on demanding the truth from her over and over again.
He skated his hand up the center of her chest to cup her jaw. “Trish.”
She sighed and opened her eyes. If Cameron O’Clery was devastating in the office while wearing clothes, he was downright heartbreaking naked in bed with her. Something about his expression looked softer here, as if some artist had painted him in gentle golden tones. His dark skin stretched over an impossibly broad chest, drawing her eyes south, ever south, to where the sheets hid the lower half of his body from her view. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thanks.” He huffed out a laugh. He stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “I’ve never done anything like this before. It has me all fucked in the head, and I’m even less tactful than normal.”
