Chapter 22
Cameron
I don’t know what I’m thinking. Hell, I don’t even know if I’m thinking at all or if I’ve just finally given my body permission to do what it wants instead of listing to the ‘no, no, no’ chant in my head.
I seal my lips over hers, my body lighting up with so much electricity I feel like I might explode at finally doing it.
I’ve been in love with this girl since we were kids, hanging on her every word and selling myself piece by piece just to see her smile.
We’ve shared beds and even clothes, huddling together in the dark when we were frightened and spending endless nights on the couch in the living room, holding hands and watching movies.
But it was never anything more than us being best friends.
She turned to me when she was sad or overwhelmed, when she was tired of school or hated the world or just needed a safe place to cry.
On the days when she remembered that we’d lost her mom, and that she wasn’t coming back.
.. and on the days when the boy she liked didn’t like her back.
So, as I tip her chin up and spread her lips, moving so softly, so gently that it’s little more than a dream, I’m flying, channeling all the hurt and angst I’ve ever felt into this one kiss. This one moment of pure, utter heaven after a lifetime of crumbs that were hardly enough to keep me alive.
When she slides her tongue against mine, I nearly come undone, and all the blood rushes from my head straight to my dick.
And just like that, I forget the past and my reticence and the fact that this girl is my best friend and my stepsister, and let passion take over.
I slide my hands from her jaw up into her hair and grasp it, using the strands to angle her head even further, and dive into the kiss like it’s all I need.
Our tongues move and slide together in a dance that feels like it might be everything I’ve ever needed, and within seconds the kiss goes from soft and yearning to something more.
Hotter.
More intense.
All tongues and teeth and soft groans coming from our throats.
I drop to my knees in the grass, taking her with me, and slowly lay her down, my mouth still over hers.
The moment she’s on her back I run my hands down her neck, fingers trailing along her velvet skin and my senses singing with the closeness of her.
I can smell her hair, her skin, and the scent is intoxicating, filling my head with a soft, hazy fog.
I move my fingers over her collarbone, smiling against her mouth as she shivers, and then I take her breast in my hand, massaging it until she arches up into my hand, gasping.
Her nipples are peaks against the thin material of her dress, her skin burning up through the cotton, and it’s all I can do to slow my actions.
My cock is straining against my jeans, aching and tender with how much I want to be inside her, but my instincts are screaming that I want this moment to last forever. I need this moment to last forever.
I lean down and take one of her nipples in my mouth, tasting her sweetness through the dress, and she cries out, her voice sweet and clear in the sunlight and birdsong of the meadow.
As I suckle her, pausing every so often to nuzzle her skin softly, I let my other hand trail down her side, taking in the smooth dip of her waist and then the spread of her hips.
I move down her leg, my senses crying in something I can’t name, and when I get to the hem of her dress I pause.
I sit up and stare down at the girl I’ve known most of my life, suddenly hesitant. “Are you sure?” I whisper.
She looks at me with eyes larger than they should be, her pupils blown out with passion and her lips swollen and gasping, and in those eyes, which have never held anything but affection for me, I see a realization I’ve never seen before.
A knowledge that tells me what she’s going to say before any words leave her mouth.
“Why do you always ask such stupid questions?” she mutters. “I was waiting for you.”
The same thing she said when I first found her in the field. She was waiting for me
I don’t know what she means and I don’t fucking care, because I know where that need ends–the same place my yearning does.
And that’s all that matters.
I huff out a laugh at that, still unsure of how we got here, but dip my head back to her mouth and kiss her deeply while my hand works the hem of her dress up her thighs until it’s bunched around her waist. She gasps when I use my hand to spread her legs, and gasps harder when one of my fingers brushes the gusset of her panties.
And skin me alive, the girl is soaking already.
Her panties are hot and wet, her desire coloring my fingers as I brush against her.
Beneath me, Sammy is kissing me harder, her moans sliding down my throat and her hips jerking with need, and I slide her panties to the side, take a moment, and then trail my fingertips through her wetness.
Oh. My. God.
My self-discipline flies out the window and I slide my fingers into her, her pussy grabbing them and pulling like her body has been waiting for this.
Sammy arches up off the ground and cries out, and the move pushes her farther onto my fingers.
She takes them until they’re fully seated, and then starts to move, taking them in and out of herself slowly.
“Cameron,” she breathes softly. “God, please.”
It’s the only encouragement I need. I move my fingers more quickly inside her, pumping them in and out until I find a rhythm, and then crook them slightly so I’m hitting her inner walls, and she immediately starts moving more quickly in response.
I kiss her deeply, claiming her the way I want, and revel in the feel of her around my fingers, her inner walls already starting to pulsate.
In my pants, my cock is matching her rhythm, jerking against the zipper of my jeans and throbbing like I’m already fucking her.
God, I’m going to die. My heart is going to explode and I’m going to die right here, with my hand buried in my girl’s pussy and her arms twined around my neck. And I’ll die the happiest man who ever lived.
Because this girl, this tiny, beautiful, insane girl, is the only thing I’ve ever needed.
When she comes, it happens so quickly that I’m not expecting it, and her cry startles me.
She shouts up into the sky and I kiss her reflexively, taking her cries into my mouth to keep them from escaping into the world around us.
By the time she comes back down, gasping and shuddering, I have my pants down around my ankles and my cock out, desperate to feel her.
I settle myself between her legs and wait for her to look at me again, and when she does, her eyes are shining and her cheeks glowing, her mouth caught in a half-smile that both rewards and teases me.
And fuck me, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I take my lip in my teeth, position the head of my cock at her opening, and push into her slowly, watching as her eyes roll back in her head and her face goes slack with pleasure.
I pause when I’m fully seated inside her, trying desperately to take a moment to appreciate it. She’s hot and wet and so tight, everything I’ve ever dreamt of, and my cock is already throbbing, desperate to move. To create friction and find release.
I pull out slowly, hating that it will take me away from her, and then slide back in, and she gasps softly.
When I pull out again, it’s faster, and then faster again, until I’m moving in a sure, heavy rhythm, pounding into her so fast that I lose track of the motion.
I don’t think, just move, every part of my skin buzzing with the sensation.
Sammy winds her legs around me, taking me deeper inside me, and it’s all I can do to hold myself together.
I kiss her again, incapable of stopping myself, and when she brings her hands to my cheeks, holding me like the dearest thing in the world, I realize that I have tears running down my cheeks.
Not because I’m sad or worried or scared.
But because I’ve finally, finally come home.
“Cameron,” she says suddenly. “Oh God, I’m going to... I’m going to...”
It’s all the warning I get before she’s spasming around me, her pussy pulling me even tighter, and I thrust as deep as her body will let me and still, trying to hold myself together as she comes apart around me.
It’s pointless, though, because where Sammy goes, I have always followed. And when she jumps over the cliff into the darkness, I jump with her, hand in hand, cheek to cheek, soul to soul.
The way it’s always been.
We lay in the grass for several minutes, our bodies twisted together and our souls mingling, before she finally speaks. I hear her take a breath to say something and try to build a wall around my heart, already knowing what’s coming.
A joke. Something wry or sarcastic, because that’s the only way she’ll be able to clear the emotions she’s feeling.
It’s always been that way, and the armor I’ve built for that is very, very familiar.
I’m surprised when her voice is soft and dreamy, and her words are... honest.
“Is this going to ruin things?”
It takes me a moment to process what she’s said.
“What?” I ask, surprised. She’s laying with her head on my chest and I pull her harder against me, the movement instinctive, like I can somehow keep her from using her words to leave me.
“Are you going to leave me now?”
The words are so close to what I was thinking that for a moment I’m not sure if she said them or I did. Then I realize that she did, and I turn her on her back so I can rear up and look at her.
“What are you talking about?”
When she meets my eyes, hers are wet with unshed tears.
“Bear isn’t who we thought he was. Everyone always leaves.
They take what they want and then they run.
Are you going to leave me now, because Cameron, I don’t think I can stand it.
I don’t think I know how to do anything if you leave. I don’t know if I’d–”
I put a finger to her lips, cutting her off before she can finish that statement, because I already know where it was going.
She doesn’t know if she’d finally have to follow through with jumping off that bridge.
“I don’t want you to even think about it,” I say gently. “I’ve always been here, haven’t I?”
She frowns. “Well yeah, but–”
“But nothing. I’ve always been here. And I’ll always be here. That doesn’t change. You think you don’t know how you’d live without me? How do you think I feel? Don’t you think I would be just as lost without you?”
She looks at me like this is something she’s never even considered, and I want to shake her.
“Sammy, you know I’ve loved you since we were seven, right? You know you’re my life. You’re my heart. My everything. That’s never going to change.”
I watch her try to understand this, try to make sense of someone wanting her that bad, and shake my head.
She really doesn’t know who she is, this girl, or how much she means to the people around her.
She has no idea that the color goes out of the world if she’s not in it, and that she steals all the light when she walks out of a room.
And fuck do I want to spend the rest of my life demonstrating it for her.
If she’ll let me.
If she’ll just stop running.