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He pouts. “But you’re all the protein I need.”
I back him up against the side of the truck and kiss him until my lungs feel like they’ll burst from insufficient air. We break apart panting.
“So…,” he gasps. “Blowjob?”
I can’t say no.
His face lights up in delight, and he wriggles free of my hold and turns us around so I’m the one leaning against the truck. “Don’t worry about a thing. It’s my turn to take good care of you.” He drops to his knees.
The cold air in the cave bites at my bare flesh as Cam frees me from my clothing, but my cock doesn’t have time to wilt, because Cam’s hot mouth is closing around it, taking it as deep as he can. My head falls back against the truck with athunk, but I barely notice. The only thing I care about right now is Cam, his lips stretched around my dick, the wet suction of his tongue against my sensitive flesh, the way he keeps his eyes on me, a secret gleam in his gaze as he watches me slowly unravel.
He draws back, exposing my wet cock to the chill, then sucks me back into the welcome heat again. I shiver and give myself over to the magic of his mouth as he does it again, and again… and again…
Then he pulls off completely and grins up at me. “Having fun?”
My breath escapes in a huff. It’s the closest I can get to a laugh with every nerve stretched to breaking point. “Brat. My dick is getting cold.”
“Oh no.” He widens his eyes. “Poor baby. Let me warm you up again.”
I tingle in eager anticipation as he leans closer, then groan in exasperated frustration when he merely lays a light kiss on the tip, then peers up at me. “Did that help?”
The cheeky quirk of his mouth fills me with warmth. I might be desperate to come right now, but I love that he’s happy and comfortable teasing me. His playful side delights me.
“I think I might need a little more,” I say gravely, nudging his chin with my cock. I’m impressed with how hard it still is in the cold—testament to how fucking sexy Cam is and how much I want him.
“Hmm,” he murmurs. “Let’s try again.” He captures the tip between his full, puffy lips, forming a tight suction grip that tears a guttural sound from me, then draws back again. “Like that?”
I manage a nod.
Taking pity on me, he slowly slides forward until his nose touches my pubic bone and the tip of my dick is in his throat. The heat, the sensation, the sight of him like that, full of me, watery eyes gazing up at me with affection and pleasure, is all it takes.
My orgasm rushes through me with all the force of a freight train.
By the time I manage to pry my eyes open, Cam’s tucked me back into my pants and is standing, his front pressed to mine from shoulder to knee. “Hi.”
A lazy smile curls my lips. “Hello. Fancy seeing you here.”
He laughs. “I’m ready for lunch now. My break’s already been longer than it should have.Someonetook forever to come.”
Snorting, I take his hand and lead him over to the table and two camp chairs. Our sandwiches and chips are in a bag there. “Yeah, that was completelymyfault.”
Throwing himself into the camp chair—which would have gone over backward if I wasn’t used to him doing this and prepared to steady it—he waves off my excuse. “But you feel so good in my mouth. I wasn’t giving that up sooner than I had to.”
I can’t see the sense in arguing with that, so I shrug and hand him his lunch. Oh no, poor me, my… person I’m having sex with likes to give playful blowjobs. How will I cope?
We talk while we eat. I spend all day with Cam, most nights too, but we never seem to run out of things to talk about. He updates me on his progress this morning, and I look over at the wall.
“That design is incredible.” I didn’t see it before—I don’t think any of us did but him. The elements all just looked like a jumble of metal sticking out. But now, with the two layers of components being built on, I can see it. Not a pattern, like Cam first said, though he still calls it that, insisting it is. Maybe to a puzzle designer that makes sense, but I can’t tell where it will go next. All I can see is that the starting point is a giant eye, and the rest of what Cam’s solved so far is a head.
A dragon head.
He’s working his way down the neck at the moment. At least, that’s what he tells me. When each part is complete, something about the way the components are positioned and the light hits them makes it obvious what I’m seeing, but when the components are still not perfectly in place, they’re just pieces of metal. It’s so fascinating. Cam’s list of questions about the designer is getting longer every day.
“I wonder if it’s a self-portrait,” he says now. “Did the dragons who are coming know the designer personally? Would they recognize the face?”
I shrug and tip the chip packet over my mouth to catch the last few crumbs. “I don’t know. The wing leader, Brandt, came last time, and he knew her. Or he said he did. He recognized her magic, anyway. But I don’t know if he’s coming this time.” Garrett said there are four dragons coming. Two will be here for only a few hours. One will stay for a few days—apparently he’s some kind of historian or archivist and wants to see everything before the door is opened. And the last one is our official dragon liaison, who will be with us for the duration.
“And they’re coming on Sunday?” he asks for the millionth time. I smile indulgently at his excitement.
