“I think about using you however I want,” he confesses, driving with his left hand on the wheel, his other over his apparent erection. “You never say no to me. Whenever I want to fuck you, no matter where or when, you never say no.”
I inhale sharply, imagining it. Being bent over the kitchencounter as soon as he walks in. Pushing me to my knees in the shower. Stripping me down on the terrace at night, sinking into me as the city lights twinkle around us.
I find myself nodding, grating out an “Okay,” and he blows out an audible breath.
The rest of the ride is silent, save for the quiet music or the hum of the engine. By the time he parks the car in the garage, I’m hot and sweaty. In the elevator, I fidget with my hair, trying to cool off my neck while Paisley leans into her brother’s side, yawning. Upstairs, she shuffles off to her room, and as soon as her door closes, Camden takes my hand in his, practically running with me down the hall to his bedroom.
I’ve seen it before, with the glass wall and neutral tones, but I’ve never stood here in the middle of the room while he’s circled me. His eyes are almost black as he drags his fingertips over me, blazing a trail in their wake. When he finally stops behind me, his mouth is hot on my neck, and I am on fire.
Needy and overheated. My clothes are itchy and heavy, and I help him to undo the buttons of my blouse, peel my skirt down over my hips until I’m left in only my bra and underwear. Then he spins us to the mirror so I can watch in the reflection as he learns the topography of my body. His hands cup my breasts. They’re small, and I might be self-conscious about them if not for the way he murmurs words about how he can’t wait to kiss them. Then he smooths his palms over my stomach to my hips that are so much wider than the rest of me, down to my dimpled outer thighs. He tells me how much he loves my legs, how he often finds himself staring at my ass. “You are perfect. Exactly the way you are.”
So, no, I don’t care I’m short and pear-shaped, that my breasts are nothing to write home about, or that I have a PMS breakout on my chin, because Camden can’t get enough of me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps against my ear, a moment before nibbling on it. “And you’re mine.”
I nod, turning in his hold to work on his belt. “Youaremine.”
He curves his hands around my jaw, smiling into a kiss. “I’m yours.”
He sweeps his tongue into my mouth, not bothering to help me with his zipper or pants, and I let out a small, frustrated growl, which earns a laugh.
“A little help,” I say, and he steps away only long enough to whip off his sweater and step out of his pants. Then he’s back on me again, mouth seeking, hands roaming.
Mine are too, fingertips tracing over the hard muscles on either side of his spine and down his sides. When I trail over the ripples of his stomach, he sucks in a breath like it tickles, so I do it again, and he pulls on my lip with his teeth in reprimand. Then he unclasps my bra so it falls off and continues on to my underwear, soft pink with lace on the sides, making a sound of approval.
He drops to the floor, but even on his knees, his head is level with my chest. As his hands work on removing my panties, he sucks on both of my nipples, drawing them to almost painful points. But it’s his hum of satisfaction that sends a wave of electrical current to my clit. It throbs, and I rub my thighs together for some relief, but he catches them in his hands, stopping me. “I’ll take care of you. Spread wider, honey. I got you.”
The first caress of his fingers over me is a promise. The second, though, comes with a threat. “Keep them wide.”
“Or what?”
“Or we skip me being nice to this pussy, and I get right to pounding you. Using you how I want.”
“Is that how they teach you to talk to girls back in the cornfields?”
He arches his brow. “River.”
I arch my own. “Camden.”
“You’re about to learn how this corn-fed boy can fuck.”
“I’m looking for—oh!” I gasp when he invades me with two thick fingers. Given no warning, it’s a shock, but not unpleasant. He laves my nipple with his tongue as he slides his digits in andout of me, coating them with my desire, using it to moisten my clit, and then his thumb is there, pressing and circling, as he finds the spot inside me with his index and middle fingers.
“Oh god,” I moan, my legs unsteady, and he has to wrap an arm around my waist to keep me upright. Needing something to hold on to, I let my head and shoulders curl, my fingers digging into his hair, cradling him to me, a buoy in the ocean.
Each twist of his fingers and lick of his tongue sends me further out into the depths, waves of pleasure washing over me until my skin pricks with goose bumps and stars fill my vision.
“I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”
“Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.” He murmurs around one of my nipples as if he knows, urging me on. I crash, my orgasm causing my knees to give out, but he’s there to catch me.
Although I’m barely allowed more than a few breaths before he bends, weaving his arms between my thighs and around to my back, creating a sort of seat for me. Because then he lowers his mouth to me for one experimental lick. I shudder in his hold, and he chuckles, a puff of his warm breath hitting my already oversensitized flesh. “Yeah, I’m gonna love this the most.”
Then he lifts me up, standing with me on his shoulders, his head between my legs, and I shriek, yanking at his hair in terror. He moves like it’s nothing. As if I am no more than a feather as he walks to the bed and sets me on the mattress, all the while his mouth never leaving me.
And I’ve never been so turned on in my life.
“That was really hot,” I say to the ceiling, and I feel his grin against the curve of my hip.
