Chapter 27
When we get back to Camille’s place, we take a long shower together, and I check every inch of her for ticks and bug bites.
Then check her again in bed with my mouth pressing kisses and nips to every inch of her skin, ending with long, tongue-filled kisses to her pussy as an apology for being so rough with it earlier.
The heat spike has ended, but that won’t stop me from giving her as much pleasure as she can bear.
“Enough,” Camille pants after I’ve made her come on my tongue for the third time. My head pops up from between her thighs to see her entire body is flushed, looking thoroughly wrecked.
I kiss her inner thigh and wipe off my slick-coated chin with the back of my hand. “Fine, but only because it’s a work night and you need your rest so you can go yell at people to stop being stupid and fix it when they’ve been stupid.”
Camille snorts at my terrible description of her job. “So magnanimous of you.”
I crawl up her body until my face is hovering over hers and smile down at the heartachingly beautiful sight of the omega—my omega—who loves me.
The guys are going to be so jealous. I press a kiss to her cheek, then to her nose, which makes her giggle. Then to her mouth, which she sighs against. My cock throbs against her thigh, but I ignore it, stroking away some of the hair stuck to her sweat-damp forehead.
Not wanting to crush her for too long, I slide over onto my side, and Camille rolls over to face me with a soft, sated smile.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hey,” I murmur back.
“Are you sleepy?” Her eyes are still bright despite how languid she is post-orgasms.
I shake my head and glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand over her shoulder. It’s close to midnight, but I wouldn’t mind staying up longer if it meant more time with her.
“Me neither.” She smiles at me, and I can tell there’s more she wants to say, but she is hesitating.
“Is it time for heartfelt confessions?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood and encourage her. “I love pillow talk.”
Camille giggles. “Oh yeah? You’ve done that a lot in the past?”
It’s her second time tonight asking me about my romantic history, and I know it’s a little messed up, but I love it. Her omega is clearly trying to stake her claim on me.
“Sometimes,” I reply, the answer honest. “Not as often as I would’ve liked. Most people wanted to fuck me without a connection.”
“Screw them. They were idiots,” she half-growls with a frown.
“My fierce omega,” I murmur, reaching out and smoothing away the wrinkle between her brows. “It’s fine. None of them matter. I have you. And before you, I had the guys.”
Her brow quirks ever so slightly, and my cheeks heat inexplicably. “Not for pillow talk. They’re not inviting me into their bed to snuggle or anything.”
Except for a few times in college… God, I’d forgotten about that. Blocked it out because of how pathetic and embarrassing it was.
Camille’s shrewd gaze scans my face. “What’s that look for?”
“Just, uh, remembering how much of a mess I was when I was younger. It’s a miracle that River is still my friend.”
“Well, now I have to know what you were thinking about,” she teases.
My cheeks warm even more. “Uh, well, there were a handful of nights when we were younger when I was super stressed, and maybe a little drunk, and begged River to let me sleep in the bed with him. Just so I wouldn’t feel so alone.”
She smiles, her fingertips brushing against my heated cheek in a soothing caress. “He’s your best friend and your packmate. I don’t think wanting comfort from him means you were a mess.”
She searches my face again, her mouth opening and then closing again.
“What?” I ask, brow furrowing.
Camille shakes her head. “Nothing. Only wondering if you’ve had anyone to have quality snuggles with outside of work since River met Ambrose.”
“We weren’t snuggling,” I protest feebly. The memory of waking up with my head tucked against River’s shoulder flashes in my mind. “But no, once they started dating, I’ve stayed in my own bed. I don’t need to intrude on what my best friend and Daddy get up to.”
I use the word to tease Camille and try to shift the subject, but instead of blushing and getting flustered, she laughs. “It sounds good when you call him that.”
“It does?”
“Yeah. It’s hot. And I know you’re saying it jokingly, but it feels… Okay, please tell me to shut the fuck up if I’m wrong, but it feels right for you to say it, too.” Her cheeks tinge pink, and she shakes her head. “Crap, sorry, I know that’s weird. I know you’re not—”
A squirmy, hot sensation that I’ve felt but haven’t been able to understand, or maybe refused to understand, builds as she speaks. Her apology is what has me blurting out words before considering them. Before convincing myself that they’re not true, because I’m not…
“It feels right to me, too.”
Wait, it does?
Camille’s eyes widen. “Yeah?”
I could take it back. I should take it back. It’s way too weird of a thing to admit.
I nod mutely, mind racing.
Camille strokes my cheek again and smiles. “It makes sense. You like letting go of control sometimes, when it’s safe. Ambrose is the walking definition of safety and comfort.”
“He is…” All the times he’s been there for me over the past few months bubble up inside me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Our connection has deepened. Changed. “Yeah, he is.”
“Plus, we both know you’re a total whore for praise,” she adds with a teasing smirk.
I laugh. “You’re one to talk, Ms. ‘I gush slick whenever I’m called a good girl’.”
She giggles, eyes sparkling with a hint of heat. My cock is hard and needy against my thigh. Hard because we’re talking about how I enjoy…
“I’m not gay.”
Camille blinks at me. “Okay.”
It’s not the kind of ‘okay’ that’s dismissive or skeptical. It’s completely neutral.
I swallow hard anyway, feeling like I’m under an interrogation spotlight. Not from Camille, but from myself.
When I don’t speak again, Camille fills the silence. “Your liking calling Ambrose ‘Daddy’ doesn’t mean you have to do anything sexual with him. Or even that you want to. It can mean as little or as much as you want it to. I promise I’ll never mention it again if you don’t want me to.”
I consider her words, my mind buzzing. Do I like calling him Daddy because I enjoy the power dynamic? Or is it more? Do I want him?
My dick throbs with a resounding, mind-bending, yes, dumbass.
“I’ve never wanted to be with a guy like that.”
Again, the memory of waking up in River’s bed with my head against him comes to mind, but this time I remember how hard my dick was. I chalked it up to morning wood, not River’s steady presence and rich scent.
“Am I gay?” I croak.
Camille releases a strangled laugh. “I can’t make that call for you.
I’m pretty sure you’re into women, what with…
” She gestures between us. “Everything we’ve done.
If you’re also attracted to men, that might make you bi.
Or pan. Or neither! You don’t have to label yourself the second you get aroused by a man. ”
“Right. Yeah.” I clear my throat that’s gone tight. “Sorry, just having an existential crisis over here.”
She pulls me against her in a hug. “We don’t have to talk about it if you’re uncomfortable.”
I sigh, relaxing against her. She’s the person I feel the most comfortable with in the world, and she’s pried out parts of me I didn’t even realize were hidden by giving me space and showing interest in me. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind crashing out if you’re the one listening.”
She kisses my cheek. “Same.”
“This is what I get for saying I love pillow talk.” I huff out a weak laugh.
Camille chuckles. “No, it’s my bad. All of this conversation started because I was nervous to tell you I’m starving and wanted to go get some of the cold pizza out of the fridge.”
I pull back enough to look into her face. “You’re hungry?”
“Yeah… a little.”
All of my embarrassment is forgotten in the face of Camille ignoring her needs. “Why didn’t you say anything?” I sit up. “If you’re hungry, you should eat!”
“I know, I know, it’s just…I didn’t want you to judge me. You’re not exactly a pizza at midnight kind of guy.”
“Says who?” I ask, befuddled.
“Says your abs.” She pokes my stomach.
“Cami, what I choose to eat or not eat, and the way my body looks, have no bearing on how I feel about you. I don’t give a shit about what or when you eat.
” I slide out of bed and place my hands on my hips.
“Besides, I’m hungry too, and pizza sounds perfect.
You okay with it cold, or do you want me to heat it up for you? ”
A soft smile twists her lips, and I don’t miss how her eyes drop to my dick for a second. “Focus, baby. That’s not the kind of sausage that’ll make you feel full.”
Camille licks her lips. “I don’t know, you’ve filled me up with it really well before.”
“Woman,” I groan, pretending that her jokes don’t fill me with an irrational amount of joy.
“Cold is good.” She sits up and slides on a shirt she had tucked away in her nest. I recognize it as one of Ambrose’s, and my stomach does a little flip.
Maybe what I’m feeling is part of adding an omega to a pack. Maybe it’s normal for some of my attraction to her to transfer over to my packmates, blurring lines that were solid before.
I shake off those thoughts, boxing them away as something to deal with later. I’ll stay awake at night overthinking and confusing myself about this, but right now, my omega is hungry.
I may not be certain about much in my life, but Camille has become my north star. No matter how tangled and strange my thoughts are, I have someone who sees me and holds space for me to figure the hard things out.
I return a minute later with the pizza box and paper towels, grinning when Camille doesn’t hesitate to grab a slice and dig in. We eat together, neither of us speaking for a while.
“You know…” she starts, after she’s finished her piece and wipes off her hands. “The signs were always there.”
I cock my head at her. “Signs of what?”
A cheeky smile twists her lips. “You have a wiener dog. Your favorite pizza is sausage and peppers.”
“Oh my god, stop,” I groan, palming my face at her terrible joke, but her teasing eases weight off of my chest. Makes our conversation not feel so momentous.
She cackles and pokes me in the side with her toe. “You’re dick-obsessed.”
I catch her foot in my hand and tug her toward me.
She squeals as I tickle her, feebly fighting against me until she’s wheezing from laughter. “No, please, no, I’ll stop teasing.”
My touch gentles, sliding up under her shirt to palm her breasts. Her eyelashes flutter as she gasps at the touch.
“Don’t ever stop. I love it.” I kiss her, swallowing down her moan as I pinch her nipple. “I love you.”