23. Ivy #3
Heat licks across my body, centered between my legs where Cam has filled me so completely.
A low, guttural groan vibrates in Cam’s chest pressed to mine, and my hips arch up to meet him, taking him even deeper, until he’s buried all the way to the hilt.
“Fuck…”
His strangled curse rolls through me, echoing across the studio as he buries his face in my neck and digs his teeth into my collarbone.
That sharp bite of pain coupled with the way his thick cock stretches me so completely makes my pussy flutter along it, and I clench down, digging my nails into the canvas under me.
Another animalistic sound falls from his lips, and he nips at my still-stinging skin again, moving up my neck to my ear with hot presses of his lips and tiny licks of pain.
“If you keep doing that, this won’t last very long, Ivy.”
I loop my arms around him, desperate to cling to him, to keep him right here where I can feel all of him pressed against me. But he seems to have other ideas.
He pulls his head away, my arms falling to the canvas as he pushes my thighs open, throws my left leg over his shoulder, and shoves my right knee up, spreading me wide and allowing him to draw his hips back and plunge impossibly deep.
A startled gasp tumbles from my lips, my neck arching, my hips clutched in his tight grip as he sets an unyielding rhythm I know I won’t survive.
There is nothing tentative about it.
No feeling me out.
No easing into our first time together.
Camden fucks like he paints, in long, sure strokes filled with an intensity, focus, and passion that explodes from somewhere deep in his soul.
An all-consuming devotion and dedication to every movement.
As if every drive of his cock into me has a purpose.
Every retreat, another one. Like he meticulously planned out each detail of how he wanted to claim me and is now enacting his plan.
Just like he does with his paintings on these canvases…
He holds nothing back.
The man lives and breathes his art, and he’s making it with his body tonight.
Creating his own masterpiece on this canvas by moving me exactly where he wants me, by taking me exactly as he wants, without reservation or any barriers.
All the lies are out in the open now.
The painful truths have all led to this moment.
Each stroke builds me higher, the head of his cock catching on the exact spot inside me like he knows exactly what angle to hit and how to bring me there quickly.
His hips pump wildly, his hands tightening around my thighs as he holds me spread wide, and then he angles his hips down and thrusts up, and I see stars flashing against my closed lids.
My already labored breaths seize in my chest, each attempt to draw in air only getting harder and harder the harder he fucks me.
And this is pure, unadulterated fucking .
This is consuming.
This is claiming.
These are the things I never thought I needed so badly but now can’t imagine living without…
My pussy ripples around him, my body primed and getting ready to explode.
He issues a rumbling groan of appreciation, dipping his head to capture my next gasp as he reaches a hand between us and twists my clit. “I can’t wait to feel your pussy clamp on my cock as you come, Ivy?—”
I do it as soon as the word leaves his mouth, and he bites off a curse and kisses me intensely, moving his fingers across my clit viciously as he plunges unfathomably deep and hard enough to rock me across the canvas.
My eyes drift closed, the world spinning around me, a violent rebellion of my body and heart until I can’t contain it any longer.
I gasp and erupt.
Tears stream down my temples in a hot rush.
All the pain and agony I’ve felt over the last several months dissipates on a cloud of pure ecstasy as he continues to pump into me. His hips snap. His cock stretches me as my pussy ripples and clasps at his length, trying to keep it inside, trying to keep this bliss going forever.
His fingers move over my clit, helping to drag out my pleasure, the sparks of release tingling through every limb and bright flashes of light against my closed lids drawing a shudder through my body.
My lungs burn, and I finally realize I haven’t breathed, forcing myself to suck in a gasp of air as the orgasm threatens to pull me completely from the safety of his arms.
Cam pulls his hand from where our bodies connect and grips my chin, forcing my head toward him and consuming my mouth with a kiss that’s all desperation and promise and tangle of tongues until he groans and comes hard, emptying himself inside me and pinning me to the canvas.
The faster my chest moves, trying to give my body the oxygen it lost, the more aware I become of his slick skin pressed to mine, his still-hard cock embedded in me along with his release.
And the more I relish it.
His scent fills every breath I manage to take, and I suck it down greedily, wanting more, needing it.
Camden Usher is fucking dangerous.
I knew it the moment I opened my door and saw him at my house.
I just never knew how much.
Until he stole my soul like this.