Chapter 15
15
T here was no more talking after that.
At least, no coherent talking on my end.
It took less than five minutes for Camber’s expert fingers on my clit to turn me into a babbling mess. Words were spilling out of my mouth, broken pleas, desperate cries, but they were incoherent, a reflection of the chaos surging through my body.
My hands scrambled over his body, fingers grasping for anything—his shoulders, his neck, his arms—searching for some kind of anchor as he mercilessly brought me to the brink again and again. His fingers were relentless, skilled, pushing me to the very edge of release without ever letting me fall over that cliff. The torment was unbearable, delicious, and maddening all at once.
I could feel the slick heat between my legs growing with every touch, every calculated stroke, my thighs trembling as they pressed tightly together in a futile attempt to ease the overwhelming need. Camber knew exactly what he was doing, how to keep me in that space where pleasure teetered on the edge of pain. His eyes stayed locked on mine the whole time, those cold, calculating eyes watching every shudder of my body, every desperate twitch, every broken sound that escaped my lips.
It wasn’t until I was near tears, my chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, my entire body trembling with the need to find release, that Camber finally moved. He knelt before me, his crisp, clean slacks hitting the dirty cave floor, utterly unfazed by the grime beneath him.
His hands were gentle as they grabbed one of my thighs, lifting it over his shoulder with an ease that belied the tension coiling in his muscles. He stared up at me, his eyes dark with something far more dangerous than hunger—a kind of reverence that sent a shiver through my body.
There was something primal in the way he looked at me, something worshipful, like I was a pagan deity he was offering himself to. The hard lines of his face, normally so stoic, so controlled, had softened into something more serene and vulnerable, like this was a ritual he’d been preparing for all his life.
His fingertips brushed up the back of my thigh before gripping a handful of my ass as his cheek rested against my leg. With the mask on, the cold metal pressing into my skin, the whole scene felt surreal, like a twisted dream in which I was the offering, the sacrifice laid bare before him.
“Let me taste you,” he rasped, his voice rough. It was a voice at odds with the almost peaceful look in his eyes, a contradiction that made my pulse quicken.
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Please.”
My hips moved of their own accord, the heat between my legs unbearable, my body aching for the release he had denied me for so long. Camber’s grip tightened on my thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding me in place. The pressure of the mask’s metal bars against my labia was strange at first, but then his tongue—hot, wet, and unyielding—slid between them, and I forgot everything else.
I sucked in a sharp breath as his tongue found my clit with unerring precision, teasing it, circling it, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. My head fell back against the cold stone wall behind me, my mouth dropping open in a helpless cry of pleasure. Any thoughts of anger, of resentment, of how easily he had found the center of me, vanished the moment his tongue flicked over that sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation was overwhelming, his tongue moving with the kind of expertise that only came with experience.
My hands reached down instinctively, burying themselves in his thick hair, pulling him tighter against me. I wanted more—needed more—and Camber, always so cold, so composed, groaned into my cunt like he couldn’t get enough of me. The sound sent a jolt of heat through my veins, making me moan in response. My hips began to grind against his mouth, desperate and frantic, as if I could force him to give me what I so desperately needed.
His fingers, strong and sure, moved to my entrance, teasing, pushing just inside before retreating.
He was playing with me, testing my limits, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was the way his tongue felt, the way he groaned, the way my body ached for release. My thighs shook, the muscles twitching uncontrollably as pleasure coursed through me, building higher and higher, a wave that threatened to crash over me at any moment.
“Camber,” I gasped, tugging his hair harder, trying to pull him even closer, to feel more of him. “Please, I can’t—” My words cut off with a strangled moan as his tongue moved faster, his fingers pressing deeper inside me, curling just enough to make me see stars.
His name was the only coherent thing I could manage, a breathless chant that fell from my lips over and over as my body trembled with the force of my need. Every stroke of his tongue, every brush of his fingers, brought me closer, tightening the coil in my belly until it was ready to snap.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, that I would shatter into a thousand pieces if he didn’t let me come, Camber growled against me, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure straight through me. His grip tightened on my ass as he pulled me flush against his mouth, devouring me like a man starved. His fingers plunged deep inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had my back arching off the wall, my thighs trembling, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
The pleasure was too much, too intense, and when I finally tipped over the edge, it was with a scream, my body convulsing, my fingers still tangled in his hair as I held him against me. Camber didn’t relent, his tongue still working me, drawing out my orgasm until I was shaking, my thighs clenching around his head, my chest heaving with every breath.
Finally, when I was spent, my body limp, he pulled back, his lips glistening with my release. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving mine as he rose to his feet. There was a glint of satisfaction in his gaze, but also something darker, something possessive.
He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, “You taste like heaven.”
Before I could respond, he was raising the mask once more, and his lips were on mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth, letting me taste myself on him. The kiss was hungry, demanding, his hands roaming my body with the same expert precision he’d used on my clit. I could feel the hard press of his cock against my stomach, still trapped in his slacks, and the realization that he’d brought me to the edge, over the edge, without taking anything for himself made a fresh wave of heat pool between my legs.
“More,” I whispered against his lips, my hands sliding down his chest, feeling the hard panes of muscle beneath his shirt. “I want more.”
Camber chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. “Oh, you’ll get more, little saint,” he promised, his voice low and filled with dark intent. “But first, I want to hear you beg for it.”