I murmur, “What do you mean?”
To say I’m not versed in sexual matters is an understatement. I’d never even kissed anyone before Camden. I understand the anatomy of sex—one of my textbooks explained it quite clearly—but that’s about it. Realizing my naivety makes me flush further in embarrassment.
Camden’s eyes soften, as though I’ve charmed him. “You don’t even know about oral pleasure, do you?”
Oral pleasure?As in—
“Oh dear gods,” I cry out when Camden’s tongue darts out to lick along my slit. It’s hot, wet, and feels like sheer heaven against my most sensitive flesh.
Amusement and desire saturating his voice, Camden says, “This is what I mean when I say oral pleasure.”
I arch and grip the silky tresses of his hair when his tongue circles my clit, letting out a loud moan of pure abandon. How can anything feel this good? This level of pleasure, the feeling of connection, shouldn’t be possible. It frightens me. A knot of tension forms low in my belly, winding tighter and tighter as he lavishes attention on my pussy.
That fear dissipates when Camden’s tongue plunges inside me, the rapture so intense that my vision blurs. His hand on my stomach flexes. He growls against my dripping flesh, “You taste like my new favorite dessert. I’m already addicted.”
Then his mouth is back on me as if starved. I don’t recognize the noises I make as my own—a symphony of moans, groans, and whimpers. I can feel Camden’s pleasure from the act of giving me pleasure, which excites me even further.
He pulls away from my pussy, and my whimper turns in a squeal when he bites down on the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, sucking the skin hard to leave a mark. When he said he wanted to mark me, he wasn’t kidding; I can feel his drive to stake his claim in every way possible. Pulling his mouth away from my thigh, his eyes meet mine as he slides one thick finger inside me. There’s no resistance—I’m drenched from his ministrations. Embarrassment heats my cheeks and neck. How can I be so turned on by this? By him?
Camden curves his finger inside of me, causing my mouth to fall open on a gasp as he hits a spot that makes the coil in my stomach tighten even more. This shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t be accepting pleasure or comfort from the enemy—from the reason my parents are dead.
That thought puts a much-needed damper on my arousal. By being with Camden, I’m betraying my parents’ memory. They’d be rolling over in their graves if they could see me now.
I open my mouth to demand he stop, but again, can’t get the damn words past my lips. The bond is demanding that I accept this as my due—it won’t allow anything else.
Camden sinks his teeth into my other thigh. This time, the bite is harder—sharp and stinging, as if he’s punishing me. “Get out of your head,” he growls. “Stop thinking. Stop fighting. You can go back to hating me tomorrow. For now, let yourself enjoy this.”
He adds another finger inside me, and I can feel my inner walls spasming and quivering around the intrusion. It’s a stretch, but the pain doesn’t bother me like I thought it would. Then, Camden pulls my clit between his lips and sucks. That throws me right over the edge, plummeting to the most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt in my life. I don’t just orgasm, I detonate. My whole body feels like it goes up in flames as I arch my back, toes curling and hands moving to clutch Camden’s hair. I shamelessly grind against his mouth, too far gone to question my actions. As I ride out the wave of unbelievable pleasure, I feel a tug on my chest—my bond with Camden—somehow…grow in intensity. Does intimacy strengthen mate bonds?
I expect Camden to back off now that I’ve come, but he doesn’t. He licks up my orgasm and then sets in once again, not giving my body reprieve from his dangerous mouth.
“W-wait,” I murmur, still trembling with aftershocks. His tongue swirls around my clit before joining his fingers inside me, and then moving back up again. My skin feels hot and flushed, tingling everywhere. “Camden, I’m too sensitive.”
He pulls back only long enough to say, “I’m not done yet. You taste too good for me to stop, so there’s no point in trying to make me.”
His mouth goes back to me, tongue licking along my slit. His fingers move to pinch my clit as he thrusts his tongue inside of me, drawing another loud moan from me. When I try to close my legs,too over-sensitized, Camden grips my thighs and forces them to spread wider. The pleasure he’s giving me is too much, but it’s also so good that part of me doesn’t want him to stop. When I explode once more, Camden backs off—but not before cleaning every last drop of my orgasm with his tongue. He climbs back over me and seals his lips over mine, thrusting his tongue inside my mouth.
“Do you like the way you taste?” he asks, pulling back, his eyes blazing. “I’m already addicted. I’ll need my next fix soon.”
Panting, utterly exhausted from the events of the night and the two momentous orgasms Camden wrenched from me, I let my head fall back on the cushion as my eyes flutter closed. I can deal with the repercussions of what happened tomorrow—for now, a deep slumber pulls me into its dark embrace.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Iawaken sometime later to the sensation of fingers gently sifting through my hair. I’m not entirely unused to Leisel waking me up by playing with my hair when she has one of her less hyper days and decides not to wake me up by treating me like a bed of bouncy moss, but the warm, strong body behind mine that exudes raw masculine power is most certainly not the one that belongs to my little sister.
All at once, the events of the previous evening flash through my mind. Kyron threatening Leisel, me readily slaughtering Kyron in turn, warding my room and Leisel’s, and then…oh fuck, Camden.I let him do things to me I’d never even imagined, and in the moment, I loved every second.
Sothisis what the aftereffects of true idiocy feel like. A conglomeration of shame, guilt, embarrassment, and total bafflement at my own stupidity.Is this really who I am?Someone who will cave under stress and pressure? All it took was a few kisses, and I was like clay in Camden’s hands. I was reduced to a moldable, pliable toy with no will of my own, only the will of the bond.
No.No.This is not who I’m going to be—someone weak enough to succumb to the pressure of a mythical bond that I can’t evenseealong with a handsome face. That’s not who my parents raised; that’s not who the hardships of my life have created.
For better or for worse, I’ve been thrust into a position I didn’t ask for nor desire, but my options are to lament it and live in misery or take advantage of the power of my new rank and actually make relevant changes—start fixing what Camden’s ancestors broke. Falling into his arms isnotpart of the plan.
Even if those arms are extraordinarily warm, strong, soothing, and inviting, lulling me into a false sense of safety and security. Irritation fueling me, I wriggle out of Camden’s hold and get to my feet, looking around the floor for my discarded clothing from last night.
“If you’re looking for your clothes, I’ve hidden them to ensure you don’t get to run away first thing in the morning,” Camden’s voice calls from behind, thick with sleep.
Unbelievable. Knowing what he knows about me so far—mainly, that my primary policy for dealing with him is tonot—he preempted my early morning escape by taking away something I’d need tomakethat escape. I look around the elaborate room, filled with antique furniture, spending a moment deciding whether or not I want to search out my clothes on my own and ignore the large male presence behind me.
