“Come again?” I choke, my lungs seizing.
“You know, like a strap-on.”
I search his face, expecting him to break into a grin, but all I find are twin flames of desire blazing in his eyes.
“You would—” I swallow, desperate to knock my heart loose before it cuts off my breathing completely. “You’d let me do that to you?”
It’s a fantasy I’ve never spoken aloud. One I never thought would be possible.
Cam pulls himself up to his full height, like maybe he’s about to shout, “Just kidding! No way!” But he doesn’t. Instead, he tugs me to him, locking my hips against his so I can feel how hard he is.
He slips a hand under my shirt and swirls patterns on my bare skin with the tips of his fingers. “Why not?” Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he regards me with blatant yearning. “It could be really hot.”
I gaze into his bronze eyes. Would he really let me stick a dildo up his ass? My thighs instinctively squeeze, and my core aches at the erotic image my mind conjures.
“You think it’s hot, too, don’t you? I bet your cunt is already fucking weeping for it.”
Damn, he knows me well.
I bite my lip and offer a pathetic silent nod.
“Tell me, Josefine.” He runs his thumb across my lips, then settles his hand at the base of my throat. “Tell me how fucking hot you think it would be to ride my ass.”
Taboo and desire ignite a flame in my core that blazes so hot I’m shaking with its intoxicating energy.Meridinghim?
“Hot. As. Hell,” I gasp.
He gives my throat a squeeze, then steps back and holds three fingers in the air again. “I volunteer as tribute.”
43
Josefine
“You look gorgeous, baby.”Cam kisses the top of my shoulder.
I shiver in response and wring my hands in front of me. “I’m kinda nervous.”
Tonight’s the night I meet his parents, and I’m freaking out.
He stayed true to his word and helped me with my smutty writing exercise, but in exchange, he requested that I accompany him to a fundraising gala. At the time, I was convinced he’d gotten the short end of that stick (no pun intended), but now, as I’m bent in half, struggling to strap my stilettos, I’m not so sure.
Cam looks like a million bucks in a pair of tapered black slacks, a solid black button-down, and a gray woolen jacket with black satin lapels. His feet are still bare when he kneels and grasps my ankle, motioning for me to give him my foot. With a hand on a shelf in Millie’s closet (which I have officially taken over), I balance on one leg and rest my heel in his hand.
“It’s okay to be nervous, sweetheart.” He buckles the strap of my nude stiletto, then sets it on the floor and taps my other ankle. “How can I make you feel better?”
I didn’t have the time or the funds to purchase a new dress, but Claire offered to let me borrow one of hers. So tonight I’m decked out in a floor-length white gown covered in large red, purple, and green flowers. The front cuts in a deep V, and the straps tie in thick bows at the shoulders. It’s a tight fit, but I made it work. I chose to pin my hair in a low chignon to showcase the backless design. But the best part about the gown? It has pockets.
Cam sets my foot on the floor and skates a hand up my dress until his fingers brush over my lace thong. “What would help you relax?” he asks, bunching up the front of my dress.
“Cam,” I breathe, saliva already pooling in my mouth. “What are you?—”
“Shh. Lean back.”
Obediently, I rest against the wall of the closet.
He grasps my hand and brings the hem of my dress up, silently instructing me to hold it out of the way. Sliding my thong to the side, he teases my entrance, collecting my arousal, then rubbing my clit.
“Baby,” I urge.
