“Fuck.” The word came out strangled. His eyes had fallen closed, jaw clenched tight with restraint. “You feel so good.”
I rolled my hips experimentally and his eyes snapped open, pinning me with their intensity.
“Do that again.”
I did, finding a rhythm that had us both breathing hard. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise but I didn’t care. I wanted to feel this tomorrow. Wanted to remember every second of finally letting myself have what I’d been denying for so long.
“Emily.” My name was a prayer and a curse on his lips. One hand slid between us, his thumb finding my clit, and I nearly came apart right then. “I want to feel you come around me.”
The combination of his words and his touch and the feeling of him thick and hard inside me pushed me right to the edge. I moved faster, chasing it, and he matched my pace. The chair squeaked in protest but neither of us cared.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. I’ve got you.”
And I did. I let go of the fear. The shame. The doubt I had carried for years. It all shattered. There was only the weight of his hands on my body and the friction of him deep inside me. I was wanted. Beautiful. Completely myself.
My orgasm hit like a wave, pleasure crashing through me in rolling pulses. I cried out his name and felt him surge up into me harder, his own control finally breaking. He came with a groan that I felt vibrate through his chest, his fingers digging into my hips as he pulled me down hard against him.
We stayed like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, hearts racing in sync. Until the recliner creaked ominously.
“If we break this thing…”
“Worth it.” He pulled me in for a kiss, this one soft and sweet and full of promise. When he pulled back his eyes searched my face. “All good?”
I thought about it. Really thought about it. And realized that I was more than okay. I felt free in a way I hadn’t in years.
“Yeah.” I smiled against his lips. “I’m great.”
I settledinto the dining chair, watching as Cam moved around his kitchen, trying not to wonder how I got so fucking lucky.
He set a plate in front of me, then grabbed two wine glasses and the bottle he’d mentioned earlier. Once he had his own plate, he sat down across from me and immediately reached for my feet, pulling them into his lap.
“What are you doing?” I asked, even as warmth bloomed under my rib cage at the gesture.
“Your feet were cold on the porch.” His thumbs pressed into my arch and I nearly moaned. “And I like touching you.”
God, this man.
He didn’t fill the silence with idle chatter. He just ate his food with one hand and kept the other firmly on my ankle, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles against my skin. It was domestic. It was intimate.
I took a large sip of wine. The liquid gave me a little courage, but it didn’t stop the thoughts swirling in my head.
“This feels nice,” I all but whispered. “Almost too nice.”
Cam looked up, his green eyes dark and serious. “Why is it too nice?”
“Because it feels too good to be true.” I put my fork down. I couldn’t eat. “I keep waiting for you to realize I’m not what you signed up for.”
His hand stilled on my foot. “Talk to me.”
I could deflect. I could make a joke about my pageant days or change the subject to the weather. But looking at him, sitting there so solid and open, I felt like I owed him the truth.
“Okay, here goes. Feel free to stop me if, um, you know, if it gets boring or something.”
“Emily.”
There was no denying the command in his voice. I dragged in a breath. “The last guy I was with…” My voice felt small in the quiet kitchen. I needed to take another deep breath before I could go on. “I was twenty-one. I met him at a baseball game. One of those open invitation things where anyone could show up and play. His name was Mitch. He was really into me right away, but it felt different from usual. Like he actually wanted to know me, you know? Asked about my art, my life, what I wanted. Made me feel like he saw more than just...” I gestured vaguely at myself. “More than just the surface. We dated for months before we... before anything happened. He was sweet. Patient. Or at least he acted like he was.”
I took a sip of wine to buy some time.
