Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Cameron
Even during Cameron’s most intense heats, he had never experienced anything close to what sex was like with Emory.
Cameron had naively thought he’d had a few good heats with Thomas, where all his sexual needs had been met, and he’d been satisfied for his full eighteen-hour heat.
Emory’s rut was completely different. He got to try out a few fantasies, and began to dip his toe in more engaging and fun sex.
First, he’d been fucked by Emory’s knot, which wasn’t even a fantasy he’d known to have, but was absolutely getting added to his short list. Then, Emory had blown him on the counter and fucked him over the back of the couch.
After Emory got off the phone, they had sex on the plush living room rug, on Emory’s desk, on those stupid kitchen stools, and in the elevator—both of which had been Emory’s fantasies.
Emory had been all too willing to fuck him doggy style, and even pressed his face into the mattress when he asked.
They stuck pretty close to their “no kink” rule, but at one point, Emory pinned Cameron’s wrists down, and Cameron had howled in pleasure.
“That…is very good to know,” Emory murmured, as he pulled his hands back, opting to grab Cameron’s ankles and hold them in the air instead.
“I think…maybe I might like not having to always be in control,” Cameron admitted. “It would be nice to have nothing to worry about. I could just lie back and enjoy it.”
Emory’s eyes had turned amber, and hadn’t reverted back to brown until after his next knot deflated. “You never have to lift a finger in bed if you don’t want to,” Emory whispered huskily in his ear. “I will happily service you for the rest of our lives.”
Cameron’s octopus nearly swooned, but Cameron felt a fire light in his belly. He fluttered his lashes up at his gorgeous alpha, loving that he could be so free and open about his wants and needs. “I appreciate that, but…I think maybe I would look really cute in pink ropes and cuffs, too.”
Emory’s growl shook the entire bed, and he flipped them over and sank into Cameron once again, pinning him down and not letting him up for a good hour.
Finally, Cameron got up the courage to ask for something he’d been craving for weeks.
He shed actual tears of joy when Emory picked him up, pressed him against the cold shower wall, and slammed into him. The warm water cascaded down both their bodies, and Cameron fulfilled one of his all-time favorite fantasies.
There wasn’t anything sexual about it. Quite the opposite, actually. In the deepest recesses of his heart, he’d always wanted to share himself completely with a lover during sex. For a shifter, that meant being able to share some of his inner beast.
Thomas had reacted in shock and revulsion to Cameron’s tentacles the first time they came out during Cameron’s heat. He had grudgingly allowed Cameron to keep them out, but he’d been very clear he didn’t want to be touched by them.
After everything he and Emory had been through that night, Cameron decided to take a risk and allowed two tentacles to sprout from his hips.
Emory’s irises glowed as his canines extended and his claws came out. He was careful, always so careful, not to hurt Cameron as he continued thrusting into him, whispering sweet, beautiful words about Cameron and his octopus.
“So beautiful… You’re so damn beautiful.
Look at you. They’re so pretty… You’re so pretty,” Emory babbled, and Cameron’s octopus wiggled happily, causing his tentacles to do the same.
They were a burnt orange color with phosphorescent blue suction cups.
When he was in his full shifted form, there was webbing between them, and they fanned out around him, almost like a skirt.
His octopus liked to wiggle around, showing off his beautiful tentacles, the way maybe one day Cameron would feel confident enough to show off in a dress.
In this partially shifted form, his tentacles didn’t have the webbing.
They were completely separate from each other and were around the width of his wrist and the length of his upper arm.
Cameron let out a surprised shout as something soft brushed against his calf. Emory slowed his thrusts as his tail wound its way up to Cameron’s knee. Emory’s eyes were pools of amber, and even in the water, his hair was able to form a glorious mane around his head.
“Amazing,” Cameron breathed, threading his fingers through the mane at the front of Emory’s head, stroking it back from his face as he pressed their lips together.
Emory managed to keep thrusting while also winding a hand between them to stroke Cameron.
He was going to need at least a week’s hiatus from sex after this.
His ass was starting to ache, and his parts felt wrung out.
Emory was also beginning to show signs of fatigue.
His thrusts were shallower and more desperate, and he was panting more like a dog than a majestic feline.
Cameron arched his back, forcing Emory deeper until, with a final scream, he came in Emory’s hand, clamping down on Emory’s cock so tight he was barely able to thrust twice more before he came with a muted growl.
His knot rose, and Cameron bore down with all the strength he had left, allowing it to slide smoothly into place. Every time this happened, Cameron couldn’t help but think they might truly have been made for each other.
As Emory hiked Cameron a little higher up on his hips, so he could comfortably settle on his knot, Cameron’s tentacles reached for Emory of their own volition.
Before Cameron could retract them, Emory held up his palm and gently pressed against one of the tentacles like he was giving it a high-five.
“Are they sensitive?” he asked, his voice made of gravel and grit.
“A little. It’s not, like, sexual, it just feels good when you touch them…like it always feels good when you touch me.”
Emory reverently ran two fingers down the top of one tentacle, stopping near Cameron’s hip. As he tried to pull back, Cameron’s tentacle had other ideas, wrapping possessively around his hand. Emory made a surprised noise and then absently traced the rim of one of his suction cups with his thumb.
Cameron shivered, clinging tighter to Emory’s shoulders. The warm water was keeping his octopus happily sated, but the knot inside him and Emory's gentle ministrations were threatening to crank the heat back up between them.
“That’s actually really sensitive. It’s…kind of the same feeling as being tickled. It’s not sexual, but it sort of turns me on.”
Cameron jolted in surprise as Emory’s tail moved again. He’d sort of forgotten it there on his calf, but it waved happily in the air now.
“It’s so cute,” Cameron said, reaching for it only to have it dodge away from his hand. It came back a moment later and smacked against his arm. Emory let out a low chuckle, and Cameron’s tentacles waggled happily at his sides.
“My lion likes to think that everything about him is fearsome and impressive.”
Cameron reached for his tail again, laughing as it dodged and weaved, smacking playfully against one of his tentacles.
“Do you let your tail out often?”
“Only around a few people. I don’t have my clothes designed for it, because I don’t feel a need to let it out, but it’s nice to have it out at home sometimes.”
Emory threaded his fingers through Cameron’s, stopping his little game of chase, and his tail wound around Cameron’s leg again.
They did their best to shower, given that they were still attached to each other.
When Emory’s knot finally released, Cameron retracted his tentacles and awkwardly stood up on his own for the first time in over an hour.
He was a bit shaky, so Emory led him back into the bedroom with a solid arm around his shoulders.
He got Cameron settled in bed before retreating to the other room to grab them both water.
Cameron burrowed into the somewhat soiled sheets, resigning himself to probably needing a more proper shower before he left.
He wasn’t sure when that would be, exactly.
Emory’s rut was complete, but neither of them had gotten any sleep except for Cameron’s brief little nap during their first knotting.
He didn’t want to be a nuisance, but he also had very little interest in navigating public transport on no sleep.
He was just beginning to drift off when he heard Emory growl in annoyance.
He pried his eyes open, afraid maybe he had already overstayed his welcome, but he found Emory glaring down at his phone as he slipped back into bed.
He absently handed Cameron his phone, which had been sitting forgotten on the nightstand.
Cameron only spared it a passing glance, noting ten missed texts from his sister, a few from Christopher and Ronan, and an alarming forty-seven texts in their family group chat.
He wasn’t going to deal with that until he’d gotten more sleep.
When Emory had been on the phone, he’d reported to the family chat that he’d be out of pocket while he helped Emory through rut, and that he would talk to them whenever he talked to them.
Emory, unfortunately, didn’t seem to have the same leniency. “My mother has sent me three separate calendar invitations so that I’m sure not to forget we’re wanted back at the family estate at the end of March.”
Cameron’s insides did an uncomfortable rise and drop maneuver, and he burrowed even deeper under the covers. Emory wrapped an arm around him but continued to stare down at his phone.
They had discussed this very briefly after Emory’s phone call, and Cameron really didn’t want to think too much more on it, so he pulled the sheet up over his head.
He knew meeting Emory’s family wasn’t going to be easy, but they had weathered a surprise rut, and they were still standing.
Maybe after another month of intentional dating, they would be ready.