Chapter 39 Cam
CAM
Isat on the back veranda, the late afternoon sun warming the weathered boards beneath my feet. The short length of rope moved between my hands, the soft cotton fibers sliding against my palms in a rhythm I’d long since memorized. Pull, release. Pull, release.
My mind was on Emily. It had been on Emily all goddamn day.
The way she’d looked when I’d had her pinned beneath me in my bed, eyes dark and trusting, saying my name like a prayer. The little sound she’d made when I’d kissed every one of her scars, that broken gasp that told me I was giving her something no one else ever had.
That had been nearly two weeks ago. Which meant my need for her had been building, getting sharper, more insistent. The rope slid through my hands again and heat coiled low in my gut.
The sound of a car pulling into her driveway next door cut through my thoughts. Emily.
I grabbed my phone from the side table and pulled up the message I’d drafted twenty minutes ago, my thumb hovering over send. Then I pressed it.
Took off work early. I’m home if you want to come over.
The three dots appeared almost immediately.
Yes. Give me two minutes.
I set the phone down, my pulse kicking up a notch. The rope was still in my hands.
Less than two minutes later, the back gate creaked open. Emily stepped through, still in her work clothes, her hair pulled back in that messy way that made my fingers itch to take it down.
She climbed the veranda steps and her eyes went straight to the rope between my hands.
I dropped it on the table and reached for her, pulling her forward into my lap in one smooth motion. She came willingly, her knees settling on either side of my thighs as I captured her mouth with mine. I groaned against her lips.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” I said, pulling back just enough to get the words out before kissing her again.
When Emily finally pulled back, breathless, her eyes caught on the rope. She reached for it without hesitation, running it through her fingers.
“What were you doing with this?”
My hands settled on her hips, thumbs tracing small circles against her sides through her shirt. I kept my eyes on hers, trying to read her reaction. “Thinking about you.”
Color crept up her neck. Fuck, she was gorgeous when she blushed. “And rope factors into that how, exactly?”
“I want to try something with you.” I kept my voice low, steady, making sure she heard every word. “But only if you’re willing. Only if you want to.”
Her breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that told me I had her full attention. “Okay.” She looked down at the rope in her hands, then back up at me. No fear in her eyes. Just curiosity and trust and something hotter underneath. “What kind of something?”
I took the rope from her gently, letting it slide through my fingers. The soft cotton moved easily in my hands. “Trust me?”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
“Hold out your hands.”
She did. No questions, no second-guessing. Just her hands extended toward me, skin flushing a deep, pretty pink along her neck while her eyes locked on mine.
I brought the rope around her wrists, taking my time with it.
Slow. Deliberate. Let her feel every loop, every pass of the cotton against her skin.
Once. Twice. I tied it off with a basic knot, loose enough that she could pull free in a heartbeat if she needed to, but secure enough that she’d feel it.
I watched her look down at her bound wrists, watched the way her breathing changed. Then she looked back up at me and the heat in her eyes nearly knocked me sideways.
“How does that feel?” My voice was rough, gravelly and I had to clear my throat.
She swallowed, and I tracked the movement down her throat. “Good,” she whispered. “It feels really good.”
Fuck. Yes.
The smile that pulled at my mouth was probably too revealing, showing her exactly how much her answer affected me. How much I wanted to take this further. “Good girl.”
Her eyes went dark and her breath hitched, and I filed that reaction away for later. She liked that. Liked being praised. Liked being told she was doing exactly what I wanted.
I leaned in close, my mouth near her ear. “Does it turn you on?”
She smiled, coy and teasing. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I pulled back just enough to see her face. “We can do better than maybe.”
I took her bound hands and lifted them over my head, settling them behind my neck. The position forced her to lean forward, pressed her chest against mine. Her face was inches from mine now, breathing the same air.
“Keep them there,” I said softly.
Then I kissed her. Deep and slow, taking my time with it while my hands started to wander. Down her sides, over the curve of her waist, back up to the buttons of her blouse. I worked them open one at a time, never breaking the kiss, feeling her breathing get heavier with each one I freed.
The fabric parted under my fingers and I pushed it off her shoulders as far as it would go with her hands still behind my neck. Her skin was warm, flushed, and the heat radiating off her was enough to scorch us both.
My hands slid down to her thighs, finding the hem of her skirt and pushing it up over her hips. She made a small sound against my mouth and shifted in my lap, and I had to break the kiss to breathe.
I slid one hand between her thighs, into her panties, and groaned at what I found. “Fucking drenched for me, sweetheart.”
Her only answer was to whimper and roll her hips forward, seeking more contact, and I gave it to her. One finger slid inside easily, and the sound she made went straight to my cock.
“That’s it,” I murmured against her mouth. “Take what you need.”
She didn’t have to be told twice. Her arms tightened around my neck, pulling herself flush against me as she ground down, rocking her hips against my hand, heavy and wet and desperate for more.
“So good for me,” I said, adding a second finger and curling them just right. “Look at you, riding my hand like this. So fucking beautiful.”
Her rhythm stuttered and I knew she was close. I kept the pressure steady, my thumb finding her clit and circling it while my fingers worked inside her.
“That’s it. Fucking give it to me.”
She came with a broken cry, her whole body going taut in my lap, clenching tight around my fingers. I worked her through it, whispering praise against her skin as the aftershocks rolled through her.
When she finally went boneless against me, breathing hard, I slowly withdrew my hand and brought my fingers to my mouth, tasting her while she watched with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Fuck,” she breathed.