Chapter 18 #2
He moans again when I pull back enough to press my tongue firmly against the nerve beneath his crown, the words dying on his lips before he can give them voice.
It’s only when I release him completely—noticing him white-knuckling the covers beneath him—that I realize what the rest of his sentence was going to be.
Touch you.
Can I touch you?
It cracks my chest wide open, the way he’s constantly seeking permission and consent. Yeah, his dick and body, his charm and confidence, they all hold a sinful appeal, but I think it’s his consideration that’s the sexiest thing about him.
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice gravelly and raw. “Please touch me.”
Reaching for his hands, I slowly peel his fingers from the sheets.
He doesn’t need more encouragement than that, his palms finding my shoulders, skimming over my skin while I take him back in my mouth.
I feel his gaze on my face, watching me lick and suck on his shaft, his grip tightening whenever I do something he particularly enjoys.
Eventually, his fingers wind up sifting through my hair, knotting there when I hollow my cheeks and start moving faster. And once again, those little sounds spill from his lips. Soft pants and pleading whimpers fill the air as his hips arch up, causing him to slide deeper into my mouth.
“Fuck, Lo,” he moans, his hold on my head tightening. “I’m close already.”
I’m embarrassingly close myself, my hips rutting against the bed, seeking some sort of friction as I bob over his cock. But I wanna look him in the eye as he falls apart. Want my lips fused to his at the molecular level when we both dive into freefall together.
So I force myself away, letting his cock fall against his stomach with a wet slap.
My underwear is gone in half a second, and I straddle his thighs before leaning forward, finding his lips again.
It’s meant to be teasing, this kiss. Something to draw out his need.
To honor his request and continue to do my worst. But the second his tongue flicks against my lower lip, all my thoughts of slow torture go out the goddamn window.
I grind my hips down into his, our cocks sliding beside one another, trapped between our torsos.
He grabs my ass firmly in each palm and pulls me impossibly closer, tightening the seal of our bodies and creating the most delicious friction as I rut into him some more.
A soft moan tries to slip past our fused mouths, but it morphs into a rumble deep in his chest when it finds no escape route.
It sets my nerve endings on fire as the vibrations pass from his body into mine, feeling his lust and need coursing through me, along with my own.
It’s overwhelming, and yet I’m desperate for more.
More sinful sounds and breathy pants. More jolts of electricity wherever our skin connects.
Just fucking more.
Breaking the kiss, I push against his chest to sit up and gather saliva on my tongue. A long trail of spit drips onto my cock a second later, and I spread it with my palm before bringing our cocks together.
He inhales sharply as I slowly stroke us, my spit spreading between my fingers as I smear it up and down our lengths. It’s an erotic sight, our dicks side by side with my palm struggling to contain them, and damn if it doesn’t feel amazing too.
“Jesus Christ,” Camden groans, arching into my touch. “Go faster, please.”
Happy to oblige him, I tighten my fist around us, jacking our lengths more quickly.
The added speed and pressure is fucking exquisite, creating this sinful friction that sends sharp zaps of lust to my lower stomach.
My hips get in on the action too, rolling back and forth in time with my hand, injecting another hit of desire into my bloodstream.
“Oh my fucking God.”
I don’t know which of us says it, only that it’s a plea I feel down to my core.
His hands skate down my sides until he reaches my ass, palming and kneading each globe with a firm grip before he gives one a light smack. A little groan attempts to slip out at the contact, but I manage to bite it back, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.
“You like that?” he murmurs, voice dripping sex before he does it again.
I groan again before nodding, not able to find the words. I’m too lost in simply feeling.
Feeling fucking everything.
The way his palms skim across my heated skin, the glorious friction of our crowns bumping and rubbing against one another while I jack our cocks together. The bite of pain in my skull when his fingers grip the back of my head and yank me back down, claiming my mouth once again.
I get lost in it. Consumed by it.
By him.
The faintest little whimper fills the air, somehow escaping from between our fused lips, and fuck if it’s not the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
Every little moan and pant he makes has my hand moving faster, reaching a frantic pace now.
They push me closer to the edge. Send my need skyrocketing into the stratosphere, desperate for the fall to follow.
And it’s a desperation he meets in kind, his hands grappling for hold on me wherever he can.
“Fuck, Lo,” he whispers into my mouth. “I’m gonna come.”
“Then come. Let me fucking feel you.”
His hand slices through my hair again, grabbing the back of my head and crashing his lips back to mine in a brutal kiss—one that’s fueled by pure, animalistic need. Our tongues battle, fighting a war neither cares who wins, only that carnage be left in their wake.
And carnage, it is, when his teeth sink into my lower lip hard enough that I taste blood.
I detonate on the spot, my release hitting me out of nowhere.
“Fuck. Fuck,” I gasp into his mouth.
My cum lands in ropes on his chest and floods my palm, coating both of our cocks as I continue working myself through my climax. The added lubrication has my hand moving even faster now, every brush of his crown on mine sending little sparks and shockwaves through my already electrified body.
“Come, baby. Right fucking now.”
Damn near on command, Camden’s cock pulses against mine, and he hurdles himself toward the edge.
A hand wraps over mine, squeezing tighter and jacking faster until his release bursts from him on a choked cry.
I quickly kiss him, smothering the sound before someone can hear, while he milks himself through his orgasm.
Our cum mixes together with every stroke as our kiss turns more languid, and it’s only when he’s fully spent that our lips break apart and his hand releases mine.
“Oh my God,” he whispers with a little chuckle.
I rest my weight back on my thighs, and an exhausted laugh slips from me too.
Our cum covers his chest and stomach in thick, creamy streaks, and I take a second to stare at it while catching my breath. It looks a little like artwork, I realize. Like one of the Jackson Pollocks sitting in the MoMA, maybe.
Add it to the list of things he was right about.
After a minute, I slide off his body entirely and drop to my back beside him, sated and now tired as shit. There’s a good chance I’ll even fall asleep before getting my underwear back on or wiping my hand clean, and honestly, I don’t even care.
“Hey,” he whispers, snagging my attention.
I roll my head to look at him, and he leans in, slipping his index finger beneath my chin before gently kissing me. It’s quick and brief; the kind we’ve already shared countless times. But it’s filled with so much tenderness, it causes my heart to stumble behind my ribs.
“Worth the complications?” he asks against my lips.
A soft, breathy laugh leaves me, and I nod. “One thousand percent.”