Chapter Nineteen
SAIGE
Tears pour down my face, soaking my neck and shirt. Camden is quick to reach for me, gathering me up like a child and pulling me into his lap. Camden’s tears cascade down his cheeks and dampen my hair, my tears coming harder because of it.
“Sweetheart, please don’t cry, it’s killing me.”
“All this time, Camden,” I hiccup. “All this time I’ve hated you, and you were going through the same thing. We’re the same. Two people who had their lives ruined and were looking for vengeance because of it.”
“But I’m the one who ruined yours.”
“It was an accident. I could have easily done the same thing any number of times I’ve gone after someone.” Camden turns me in his lap so my legs straddle him, his hands gripping my face between his palms.
“Listen to me, you will not justify what I did to you. What I took. I could have stopped, Saige. I may skate the law, hell, I walk right over the damn line and draw a new one when needed, but I don’t hurt innocent people.
It was an accident, a terrible, horrible fucking accident, caused by my blind rage, but it doesn’t erase the past. My guilt?
Our pain? No amount of it can change the past.”
“Your pain matters, too, Camden. You lost your brother; you saw him in a state no person should ever be exposed to. Holy shit, I can’t even imagine what you saw, how you felt. I’m so sorry. Did you kill them?”
“Slowly and painfully. But it didn’t bring back Lucas.”
“I’m not going to kill you, Camden.”
“I’d deserve it, baby, and I’d understand if you did.”
“It won’t bring back my parents and Willow. That’s not to say I don’t still want to from time to time,” I say with a dark, pitiful laugh.
“You have no idea how badly I want to hear you laugh for real.” I wipe away my tears with my hand and look up at Camden’s grief-stricken face.
I nearly crumble at what I see reflected in his red-rimmed eyes.
The depth of his guilt goes beyond anything I’ve ever seen, and I know without a shred of doubt, he truly didn’t mean for them to die, that he really was so consumed by the same extreme sadness and need for vengeance that he couldn’t see anything else.
I’ve experienced it, and I can’t say wholeheartedly that if the tables were turned, I wouldn’t have done the same thing. Reckless as it was.
My heart is at peace, but has also never felt so full.
I lift my hands up, reaching for him on my own for the first time, and wipe across his cheeks with my thumbs, brushing away his tears.
I hate the look of heartbreak on his face, the desperate loneliness that matches my own.
I lean in, gently kissing his cheekbone on one side, then the other, before pulling back just enough so that our eyes meet, the tip of our noses just a hair’s breadth away.
“No one’s ever understood my pain before.”
“I caused your pain.”
“You’re also healing it.”
I’m at a loss for more words, completely consumed by the heightened moment, the purge of emotions, the electricity between us. All I can manage is a nod as I run my fingertips gently through his short facial hair. His eyes meet mine, growing dark with longing, and something snaps inside me.
Camden brings his strong, steady hands to my face as he lifts my chin, looking into my eyes like he’s searching for my soul. My heart pounds against my ribcage, desperate and empty, eager to be consumed, to be repaired.
Maybe it’s a choice. A choice to let go of my vendetta and choose him. Choose myself.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I close the distance between us, pressing my lips against his for the first time.
Our mouths come together in a sensual caress, his lips firm and soft against mine.
He tastes of beer, salty tears, and something that is completely .
. . him. My hands move to the back of his neck while his tongue strokes the seam of my lips, requesting entrance.
I open eagerly for him, accepting him as his tongue delves into my mouth to tangle recklessly with my own.
It’s all-consuming, his hands on my face, fingertips digging into my hair, holding me exactly where he wants me.
Camden’s lips move slowly and passionately against mine, like he’s speaking directly to my soul.
I lose myself to kissing him, the outpouring of emotion he transfers within it.
This isn’t just a kiss. It’s a reckoning, a rebirth. It’s life-changing.
Strong, firm hands reach for the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it over my head, my hair lifting and falling in a cascade over my shoulders.
Camden’s hands are there immediately, brushing over my skin, pushing my hair back as his lips follow the path, peppering open-mouthed kisses along my neck and collarbone.
My head tilts back, giving him easier access as I arch in his lap.
“I love the taste of your skin,” he whispers delicately along my flesh, his lips trailing, chasing the goosebumps that break out in his wake.
My hands pull his hair free of the bun, combing through the strands and pulling his face closer to me.
I jut my breasts out, directing his mouth where I want attention the most.
Camden responds naturally, just like he always has, fully okay with letting me be more aggressive. His lips capture my nipple, his tongue lapping and flicking at the metal piercing.
“Yessss,” I moan out, my body arching and pressing against the hard length of his cock.
Hands cup my breasts, massaging, groping, his mouth alternating between the two as I grind against him.
My pussy throbs, and I’ve never felt wetter.
The pressure of his cock against my clit, his talented mouth working me up, sends me into overdrive.
Sensations are heightened, and I give in to every single one of them.
Gripping his hair, I pull him back, his lips releasing my breast with a pop. I bite my bottom lip as I look at him, the feral gleam in his eyes, the passion, and unparalleled way his hands skate up and down my waist and ribs. It’s never come close to being like this with anyone else.
When I look down, the head of Camden’s hard cock peeks from the top of his boxer briefs, the slit beading with precum.
My fingers scrape down his chest, taking a moment to trace respectfully over his card tattoo before descending lower, dipping into the waistband.
Camden and I rearrange ourselves in the center of the bed, quickly pulling at each other’s underwear to free ourselves of the fabric separating us.
His body is a masterpiece, with tan, sun-kissed skin, heavily tattooed, and ripped.
His cock is thick and heavy, bobbing upward to his bellybutton, a wide mushroom head, deep red and swollen.
He sits up on his knees, his hand reaching to grasp his cock, slowly stroking it in front of me as his eyes roam over my naked body.
Before I can think any further, I push him onto his back, reverse straddling his face.
Camden’s hands are quick to grip my hips, pulling my pussy right down to meet his waiting, warm mouth.
His tongue meets my lips, licking through my slit in long, languid lashes.
Pleasure spirals outward as I shudder in his arms.
Falling forward, I grip his big dick, feeding it into my mouth with no preamble, no finesse, just an eagerness to taste his flesh and the salty precum building at his tip. I moan around his length as he slips down my throat, vibrations from his mouth zapping through my body.
I gag, my vision blurring, tears pooling in my eyes as I take as much of him as I can.
What won’t fit in my mouth, I jerk with my hand in sync with my movements.
I’ve never liked giving head; experience from the past having led me to believe it was a selfless act that men expected to receive, which I rebelled against. But sucking Camden off is fucking bliss.
Hot, filthy, sexy, bliss. I want to take him harder, deeper, want to make him feel as good as I do from his mouth on me.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby. You suck my cock so damn well. Fuck, don’t stop, Saige.” His words are muffled against my wet center, and then his tongue is back to work, forcing me closer and closer to an orgasm, building me up, tightening that spool tighter and tighter.
His hands rub all over my hips, and then fingers are at my entrance, pressing inside my body with purposeful force.
I moan around his dick at the welcome intrusion.
He pumps into me several times before gathering up my wetness and spreading it upward to my other hole.
I bristle over him, my body shaking as he continues the process, fingering me and swiping up, swirling a finger around the tight ring of muscle.
I’ve never had anal sex, but these sensations are doing it for me.
I move my hand from his shaft to cup his balls, rolling them with gentle pressure.
Camden’s legs shake from the touch, precum spilling from his slit onto my tongue in a steady flow.
Then, fingers are pressing inside both my holes, slowly, firmly filling me, stuffing me completely with him. I shake uncontrollably.
“Fuck, baby, look at you, full of your man in every hole. You’re so fucking sexy, Saige, so fucking perfect.” His lips and tongue find my clit, sucking and pulsing against my swollen little bud, while his talented fingers fuck my pussy and ass in tandem.
The orgasm rushes forward like a natural disaster, and I fall apart at the seams, unable to resist or hold back.
Camden licks and fucks me through it, my walls clenching tightly against his fingers, my legs shaking as I moan around his cock.
Losing oxygen, as the world slowly fades away, I pop off, screaming out the pleasure wracking my body.
As I collapse on top of him, Camden is able to shimmy my spent body around so my legs are on either side of his hips, bringing us chest to chest as I breathe in precious air.