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Within seconds, he’s sliding inside me, his thick cock filling me completely. We stay in that position for a few seconds, adjusting to the connection, the way his erection throbs deep within me. I start to move first, slow and steady, his hands gripping my waist, helping me increase my pace.
“Fuck, this is hot, watching my cock disappear inside you,” he whispers, his voice harsh.
I squeeze my inner walls around him, making him groan and I lean forward, resting on my elbows, my ass in the air as he continues to thrust. Driving himself inside me again and again.
I moan every time he slides inside, my eyes tightly closed, one hundred percent focused on how he’s making me feel. Tingles race across my skin, gathering in my stomach, radiating outward, flowing through my blood. I’m sweaty. Mindless. Weightless. And when he presses his thumb against my back hole, increasing his pace at the same time, that’s it.
I’m coming.
Crying out into his stupid flat pillow, I clutch it to my face, my inner walls rhythmically squeezing, pulling the orgasm right out of him. I can feel him come inside me, filling me up, and I realize that’s the first time I’ve ever felt that before.
“Fuck,” he says once he’s come back down to earth, his voice rough. He clears his throat and pulls out of me carefully. “That was…”
“Incredible?” I offer as a suggestion.
“Yeah.” He touches me, his fingers drifting across my pussy and making me shudder. “Hold on. Stay right there. I’ll be back.”
He dashes into his bathroom and I hear water running. I scoot forward, staying in position, and pull open the nightstand drawer, hoping I’ll find some tissue when my fingers curl around something else instead.
I pull it out, holding it up. A travel-sized perfume.
The scent I wear.
Huh.
He returns to the bed with a warm, damp washcloth in his hand and proceeds to clean me up, his touch gentle. Arousing. Until I’m feeling needy all over again and his fingers slide in between my thighs, a questioning look on his face.
I shove the perfume under a pillow, nodding frantically.
He strokes me. Soft and slow. Hard and fast. Slides a finger inside me. Then another. Fucking me with his fingers, his thumb brushing against my clit. I come again, the pulsing waves making it hard for me to speak. To think. His touch gentles, pulling the rest of the orgasm out of me, until I’m a clingy, sweaty mess, wrapped all around him.
Cam runs his hand up and down my back, murmuring comforting words and reminding me why I love him.
He’s gentle when he needs to be, and dirty too. I love the contradictions. The way he treats me. The way he loves me.
“I still can’t believe you did that,” I tell him later, when we’re snuggling together in his bed, my head on his arm and his finger drifting back and forth across my stomach.
“Did what?”
“Told me you love me on national television.”
“It wasn’t really on television,” he protests.
“Yes, it was. Check your phone and see.”
He reaches over and plucks his phone off the nightstand, opening it up and going right to the ESPN app to find that our story is on the main page.
College QB Declares His Love for His GF Live!
“Oh God,” he groans. “Our entire relationship has been reduced to a headline.”
“I think it’s fun.”
“You would,” he teases, depositing his phone back on the nightstand.
Which reminds me.
“Oh hey. I found something.” I keep my voice purposely nonchalant.
