Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Cameron
Cameron was telling the truth when he said that Thomas had never physically sexually abused him.
What he’d left out was that Thomas had all but shattered Cameron’s confidence in the bedroom.
One of his many control tactics over Cameron had been to degrade him, in every aspect of his life, so he felt that his only choice for a happy future was with Thomas.
Even though, realistically, Cameron had been anything but happy with him.
Emory, though… Cameron thought maybe they could be happy together.
When Emory was struck by a sudden rut, the first thing he did, according to Christopher, was try to protect Cameron.
Thomas would have demanded Cameron drop everything to take care of him.
Emory had locked himself in his office to avoid risking Cameron’s mental health or their relationship.
He knew he had scars that ran more than skin deep from his parents and Thomas. His lack of confidence in the bedroom was one of those scars, but he would conquer it tonight for Emory. If that meant sitting on the other side of a door while he went through his next round of rut, Cameron would do it.
Besides, Emory’s moans were almost like an aphrodisiac. Cameron pressed his palm against the front of his leggings and let out his own moan, higher in pitch and lower in volume than Emory’s but just as desperate.
“Cameron,” Emory groaned from the other side of the door, and even through the wood, Cameron could hear the distinct sound of flesh slapping on flesh.
He closed his eyes and pictured Emory stroking himself, maybe with his hand or some sort of toy.
He knew there were toys for rut just like there were for heat, but he’d never used one before.
He’d always used his own body to pleasure Thomas.
He couldn’t do that through a door, though.
“What are you thinking about?” Cameron asked, digging deep into his memory banks for any sort of sexy talk.
“You,” Emory growled, and the slapping sound sped up.
“What about me?” Cameron asked, pressing his hand and forehead firmly against the wood.
“Kissing you,” Emory ground out.
Cameron couldn’t help but laugh. “I think about kissing you too, when I…when I touch myself.”
The door shook, and it sounded like Emory had slammed his shoulders or back against it. “You think about me? When you touch yourself?”
Cameron whimpered, but he wasn’t sure if Emory could hear it through the door. Just to make sure, he whimpered again, but louder.
Emory made a low noise, almost like a purr but deeper. “Do you wear…those pretty panties when you think of me?”
“Yes,” Cameron admitted. “I’m wearing them now, too.”
“Oh, fuck. Will…will you describe them to me? Please?”
A flush ran from Cameron’s hairline all the way down his face.
He’d never heard Emory curse before, and for some reason, it shot through him like lightning.
While he knew what his panties looked like, he suddenly felt desperate to be out of his pants.
He reached down and pulled off the light blue leggings he’d bought the week before.
They were soft and just a touch feminine, which made Cameron nearly bubble over with happiness.
They were nothing compared to the panties, though.
Those were straight sin, and he was thankful something had made him put them on that morning.
“They’re red. Bright cherry red. They’re cut high on my thighs, and are all lace in the back.”
“I bet they make your ass look incredible.”
Cameron giggled, something he hadn’t done for years until meeting Emory. “I mean…I think they do. And they have a bit of satin that cups me. It rubs and feels really good when I get…”
Cameron trailed off, unsure if now was really a good time for body and gender admissions.
“When you what?” Emory asked.
“Uhm…I don’t really like to say things like…hard or erection for my part.”
Emory's breathing was coming fast, yet his next question was steady. “Tell me what you prefer.”
“Well…this is all in my head, like, I don’t usually talk to other people about my…uhm, I call all of my external bits my parts. And I prefer to say I’m turned on, or I’m wet—either my hole or the tip of my part.”
“Perfect,” Emory growled. “You’re so perfect. Thank you for telling me.”
Cameron squirmed, pressing the heel of his hand against his crotch again. He let out a whimper when the lace rubbed his wet tip.
“Are you getting wet for me right now?” Emory asked.
“Yes,” Cameron said, just loud enough to carry through the door.
Emory growled, so low it made the whole door shake. The slapping noise sped up for a few seconds, and then Emory cried out sharply, and the apartment fell silent.
“Did you come for me?” Cameron asked, disturbing the momentary stillness.
“Honey, anytime I come, it's for you,” Emory said, sounding a little breathless.
Cameron whined and grabbed himself through his panties. “Please, Emory…let me in.”
Emory shifted against the door, and then the slapping noise started up again. “I can’t right now. Have to get through this round—ahhhh.”
Cameron slipped his hand into his underwear and slowly began stroking. “Okay, I hear you. We can stay here together.”
“Are you touching yourself, too? Tell me.”
Even though Emory was the one who needed help right now, he was holding Cameron’s hand through this, the way Cameron was starting to suspect he would hold his hand through their whole relationship.
“I don’t want to come yet, so I’m just stroking the tip,” Cameron said as he pulled himself out of his panties and began to move his hand. “I’m keeping my grip loose but twisting a little bit at the top—mmmm, just like that. Feels so good, but I want it to be you.”
“Cameron…”
“I bet your big hands could hold the whole thing. You could stroke me in one go…maybe…move down, and cup my–my round parts?” Cameron’s voice pitched up at the end, not sure if this was effective dirty talk.
It was probably weird for Emory to have to learn new vocabulary in the middle of his rut.
Cameron wouldn’t blame him at all if he messed them up or forgot them.
“Is that what you like, honey?” Emory growled as the slapping sound increased again. “Want my big hands to cup your sweet little parts? I’d be so gentle… Want to hold them, caress them…get my mouth on them.”
Cameron had been unconsciously mimicking Emory’s words with his hands, and he whined loudly as he cupped his parts, gently rolling them in his palm. He loved how soft and silky they were. Sometimes, he would just play with his tip and rub the soft, wrinkled skin, and that’s all it would take.
“Gods,” Cameron moaned, arching his back and accidentally knocking his elbows into the door. He winced; meanwhile, Emory let out a pitiful-sounding noise from the other side.
“I want to see you,” he growled, more beast than man.
“You can,” Cameron said desperately, one hand continuing to play with his parts as his other hand stroked faster. “Oh gods, Emory.”
“That’s it… Come with me, Cameron.”
Admittedly, he wasn’t anywhere near close, but as Emory came a second time, Cameron let out a high-pitched whine of shared pleasure. He pulled his hands off himself as Emory fell silent on the other side of the door.
“You didn’t come…did you,” Emory panted.
“I want to wait until we’re together,” Cameron said. “Can we…can we be together now?”
Emory sighed and shifted against the door. “I don’t know, Cameron. I think this round might be over, but—”
“So let me in,” Cameron said, stuffing himself back into his panties and spinning around on his knees. “Please, Emory.”
He wasn’t sure if it was possible to be influenced by an alpha’s pheromones through a door, but his octopus felt almost drunk. He was listing side to side, tentacles twitching anxiously as they both waited to see their fated mate.
Unfortunately, he was met with silence, not even the sound of Emory’s labored breathing coming through the door anymore.
“Emory?”
“I’m so afraid, Cameron,” Emory whispered, and his voice was coming from higher up on the door.
Cameron stood and pressed his forehead against the wood. “What are you afraid of?”
“That I’m going to fail you. Like I already feel like I’m failing you and every other person in my life.
I’m so busy with work, I can’t see you or my friends.
So preoccupied worrying about not seeing you and my friends, I’m falling behind at work.
I’m slowing down our relationship only to hit the turbocharge button by falling into rut.
I… Gods, if you could only hear my lion right now.
He wants to…to mate you. That’s all he’s been thinking for days, and I didn’t understand what he was saying until now. ”
Cameron’s octopus shivered and he pressed his forehead harder against the door.
“For days, he’s wanted to sink his teeth into you and never let go, so nothing—especially my stupid, stressful job that I didn’t even want in the first place—can get in the way anymore,” Emory growled.
“Meanwhile, I’m hosting thousands of guests at a gala, and all anyone wants to talk about is my cousin, who abandoned me, but maybe is back now, but maybe not, and…
and none of that matters at all because the only thing that matters to me is you.
And all I want is to be with you, but if I open this door and my lion tries to mate with you…
I’m going to lose you. And don’t say I won’t, because with what I know about you and your past, I think nonconsensual mating would be a breaking point. ”
Emory’s voice was ragged, and his breathing was so fast it was close to hyperventilation. Cameron, on the other hand, felt like he couldn’t catch his breath.