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He nods and bites his bottom lip, then pulls his hand away.
I rise up on my elbows. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for specific directions.”
I roll my eyes. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Did you think about this over the summer?”
“Of course.”
“Did you touch yourself, pretending it was me?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me what I did, and I’ll do it.”
My body reacts to the request. Holden notices my thighs clench. His blue eyes darken, but he doesn’t move any closer.
“Is this about what I said last night?”
“A little.”
“Holden, I was drunk and I—”
“You were right. I showed up at your door looking for one thing. You’ve never been a warm hole for me to fuck. It means something to me, every time.” He leans closer but still doesn’t touch me. “Use me to get off. Whatever you want, tell me.”
My breath catches, arousal thundering through my body. I’ve always been happy to let Holden take control in our physical relationship. He was the one who knew what he was doing. I was attracted to him taking control in bed.
But the thought ofusingHolden—telling him what to do—is unexpectedly arousing. Like experiencing casual sex but being with someone I love and trust.
I nod and stand, my head brushing the side of the tent. My hands fall to my bikini bottoms first, untying the strings on my right hip. Holden doesn’t visibly react as the fabric sags, but I hear his breathing quicken in the charged silence. I untie the other side even more slowly, enjoying the way anticipation thickens the air and tightens my stomach.
“I can see how wet you are.”
His low voice is an erotic murmur than echoes in my head.
The knot behind my neck is harder to loosen. I finally manage it, then tug at the one on my back until my top falls away too.
I look at Holden, deliberating. Then drop to my knees and crawl closer to him.
My name is a tortured swear falling out of his mouth.
I grin, confidence coursing through me. I needed this, as much as I crave his verbal assurances.
“You’re overdressed.”
He smirks as I repeat his words from earlier. But it quickly disappears when I yank the elastic waistband of his swim trunks. His cock jerks free from the confines. I grip the hot skin, my thumb tracing the raised vein.
Holden hisses, his abs clenching.
I lean down, swirling my tongue around the flared tip and tasting the salty tang of his pre-cum. His hand slides into my hair, tugging gently. I suck him as deep as I can, my hand moving in tandem with my mouth.
“I’m going to come, Cas.”
I pull away, smirking at the disappointment he quickly tries to hide. Then shift until I’m sitting on his lap. We both groan at the friction, the slickness of my arousal coating his cock as I rub against his erection. His hands hold my hips.
Holden doesn’t guide my movements the way he normally might. He lets me move at my own pace, the tendons of his neck raised and his jaw a tense line.
