“I told you—I couldn’t sleep.”
He turns to glance at me briefly, then looks away again.“When did you get home?”
“About four hours ago.”
“You’re so fucking creepy,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh.
I bite my lip as my eyes involuntarily drift down his body, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants.The faint outline of his member is visible, and the thought of touching him ignites a fire in me.My body reacts instantly, heat pooling low in my stomach.
I want to touch him.To feel him beneath my hand.
The need is overwhelming, and I know I’ll lose my mind if I don’t.
I bite my bottom lip harder, fighting for control, but my fingers betray me.Slowly, I trail a single finger across his chest.His breath hitches, sharp and audible, and I can’t help but smile.
So I still have that effect on him.Thank God.
I let my finger drift lower, tracing a line down his stomach, feeling the slight tremor in his muscles as I go.
“W-what are you doing, Fox?”he whispers, his voice shaky, his breathing uneven.
I meet his eyes briefly, catching the flicker of confusion, hesitation, and something else—something he’s trying to hide.
“Touching you,” I whisper, my lips brushing against the curve of his neck as I speak.
His breath catches again, and I can feel his pulse quicken beneath my lips.
My hand moves lower, brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants, teasing the sensitive skin there.
"You can't do that," he whispers, though the uncertainty in his voice betrays him.
"Why not?"I murmur, my lips grazing his ear.
He doesn't answer right away, and I can feel the tension between us thickening, his body reacting even as his mind fights to catch up.
He sighs, and his voice comes out quieter, tinged with frustration and pain.“Because you’ll act weird when morning comes.I’m tired of your games, Fox.”
The hurt in his voice guts me, and I hate myself for being the reason it’s there.
“I’m tired too, Cam,” I say gently, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.His eyes flutter shut, and I take the opportunity to kiss him again, this time closer to the corner of his mouth.
My hand moves lower, brushing over the firm outline in his sweatpants.His breath catches, a quiet gasp escaping his lips.
“Oh God,” he breathes, and the sound shoots straight through me.
He’s big—maybe not as big as me, but big enough.I rub him slowly, and he squirms, biting his bottom lip as his eyes shut tightly.
Slipping my hand inside his sweatpants, I’m surprised to find he isn’t wearing any underwear.The heat of him against my palm makes me groan quietly.
“Fuck,” he whispers, his hips jerking slightly at the contact.
His reactions are so pure, so honest, it makes me ache.The way he squirms and groans, I can tell I’m the first person to ever touch him like this.The realization sends a surge of pride—and desire—through me.
I tug his sweatpants down to his knees, and he lifts his hips to help me.Once they’re off, I take him in my hand again, stroking slowly.
“Don’t cover your face,” I whisper when he raises his arm to hide his expression.
He hesitates, his lidded eyes meeting mine.
