“You know I’m a night owl. But if you need to get some rest after the game tonight, that’s okay.”
He offers a faint, answering smile before pressing a kiss to the side of my head and turning his attention back to the screen.
It’s the simplest bit of affection, nothing about it overly sexual or suggestive, but it has my pulse racing and fingers tingling where they rest on his stomach. Itching to slip under his shirt and feel his skin on mine. And the more I linger on the thought, rather than the show on the screen, the louder it becomes.
Until it’s all I can think about.
I want to drag his mouth to mine and kiss him senseless. To straddle his hips and show him just how grateful I am—not just for what he’s done here, but for earlier this evening too, with the reassurance about the drawing I gave him.
For the safety and security he’s provided, the trust and faith he’s given me in return.
For justhim.
I shift up on an elbow, realizing the only thing stopping me is myself, and his gaze slices to me when he notices the movement out of his periphery.
“What’s up? You change your mind?”
“Yeah,” I murmur before throwing my leg over his waist.
I lean down, every inch of our torsos pressed together, and find his lips—homing in on them like a beacon in the dimly lit room. I kiss him slowly, taking every emotion filling me like awell and pouring it into him where our mouths are fused.
His hands slip into my hair, locking me in place, when my tongue teases the seam of his lips. They part for me without protest, allowing me to flick and tease his own in a sensual dance before he takes control again. There’s something to be said for the way Camden kisses: equally as coaxing and playful as it is lust-inducing.
It’s why I love every second his mouth is on mine.
It takes no time at all for our cocks to harden between our bodies from our make-out session, and because I love the sounds he makes even more than kissing him, I roll my hips down against his.
Like I thought, a little raspy hum leaves him before he pulls away, but it doesn’t deter me; I just find a new part of him to kiss. His jaw. His neck.
The sensitive spot beneath his ear.
“Whatcha doing?” he asks, his voice soft and husky.
I run my nose along the side of his throat before whispering, “Thanking you for a nice night in.”
His hands land on my hips, stilling me when I go to roll them again, and it’s enough to have me leaning back to meet his gaze. He’s smiling, but there’s a hint of confusion—or even sadness—in it when he cups the side of my face.
“You don’t have to thank me like that. I didn’t do this to get in your pants, Lo. I just wanted to do something nice for you too.”
The truth of his statement shines in his eyes, illuminated by the blue light from the TV, and a sharp pain hits the back of my throat.
“And maybe I want to thank you anyway.”
Shifting my weight off him, I dip my fingers into the waistband of his sweats and start dragging them down, underwear and all. He helps me, kicking them off when they get caught on his ankles, before he pulls his shirt over his head too,tossing it aside.
My pulse thrums at the sight of him deliciously naked beneath me, all the hard lines of muscle and smooth skin visible in the glow from the television. His gaze is scalding, two blue flames licking my face as he stares at me before wrapping his hand around his erection.
Mine.
I knock his hand away instinctually, taking him in my palm and giving a firm stroke, then another. His eyes sink closed, head rolling back against the pillows and blankets beneath him.
“Fuck, Lo,” he whispers, my name leaving his lips like a plea. “That feels good.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Mhmm,” he hums, arching into my touch.
Leaning forward, my lips find his again as I continue my leisurely torment, rolling my fist over his crown with each stroke. His fingers sink into my hair, tilting my head to kiss me deeper, more thoroughly.
