Lucas kisses his way up my stomach, his grin is cocky but well earned.
“How was that, Cam?” he murmurs. I sit up just enough to kiss him, tasting myself on his lips.
“Amazing,” I breathe. “No one’s ever made me come like that before.”
His grin turns downright sinful.
“That’s the other thing I’m good at making.”
He winks, and I laugh—sothat’sthe dirty version of what he meant earlier.
God help me, I love it. But the thought of him doing that to someone else sparks something unpleasant in my chest. I have no right to feel possessive, but still.
Then I’m shameless.
“Why don’t you make me do that again?” I ask, voice husky. “But this time, on your cock.”
Reaching behind me to my handbag on the pool table, I grab the condom Danielle sneakily slipped in there earlier and hold it in the air—thank you, best friend—I pass it to him eagerly.
“Your wish is my command, Angel,” he says with a wink. God, the way he saysangel… it lights something up inside me. But before he opens it, I stop him with a hand to his chest.
“Wait,” I smirk. “I want to touch you first. I haven’t even seenityet.” I laugh as I reach toward him, his arousal obvious through his jeans.
He steps back slightly, tugging his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, and I pause to take in his body—broad, strong, every inch of him sculpted like he was made to ruin women.
I undo his pants and slide my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around the hardest, biggest cock I’ve ever felt.
When I pull him free, he springs forward, thick, proud, beautiful.
Damn. So goddamn large. So perfect. My mouth practically waters. I can’t wait to have my mouth wrapped around it.
“Cam,” he growls, a warning in his voice, “if you do what you’re thinking, I’m not going to last long enough to be inside you.”
I keep my eyes locked on him and smile.
“At least let me put this on you,” I snatch the condom back from him. Still sitting on the edge of the pool table, I roll it onto him slowly,deliberately, enjoying every second of watching him shudder beneath my touch.
He peels my shirt off, his hands cupping my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples until I’m squirming and aching.
I stroke him once more, then guide him to my center, letting him rub against me.
We lock eyes again. The air between us crackles, heavy with want. Our mouths crash together, hungry and reckless.
Then, slowly, he begins to push inside.
He stretches me inch by inch, pausing to let me adjust. The fullness steals the breath from my lungs, my head falling back with a moan.
“Fuck you feel perfect,” He groans, and when I nod, he starts to move. Slow at first, then deeper, harder. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure spiraling through me.
He fills me completely, hitting places even I didn’t know existed. One hand finds my clit, rubbing slow circles, while his mouth finds mine again—urgent, messy, consuming.
I’ve never been this close so fast, especially not after already coming. But my body responds to his like it was made for him.
He fucks me like he means it, like he’s starving and I’m the only thing that can satisfy him. His hand, his mouth, his cock. All of it working in perfect rhythm.
“Camille, you feel so damn good. I’m not gonna last,” he pants, his lips brushing mine.
I’m on my back now, my body arching into his as he leans down, kissing my neck, then licks my nipples, fucking me so hard.
