Chapter 6 Secrets & Confessions #3
I shake my head. “And he’s always gotten away with everything. Why would now be any different?”
Cam leans closer, his tone low, uncompromising. “Because men like that only need one reason, Tara. You breathe wrong, you look at them wrong, and you become their problem. That doesn’t mean you’re imagining this. It means you’re in his way.”
He falls quiet, studying me for a beat, like he’s weighing the edges of what I’ve said.
Then his voice drops again, careful, deliberate.
“Whether it was one of your father’s usual watchers or something tied to your cousin…
it doesn’t matter. Whoever came at you in that alley… they may have a different agenda.”
My pulse kicks. “Like what?”
His gaze sharpens, voice steady but edged. “Like keeping you quiet. If you remember every lie, every cover-up, every deal…that makes you dangerous to the wrong person.”
“And the unwarranted aggression means they want you unsettled—or silenced.”
His words hang in the air between us, oppressing as a mountain.
"I'm sorry," I say, the words barely audible. "I'm so sorry for dragging you into this. You came here to recover, to heal, and instead you're—"
"Hey." His hands frame my face again, gentle but firm, forcing me to look at him. "Don't apologize. You can trust me."
"But you don't understand what you're up against. These people, they don't play by normal rules. They have resources, connections, power—"
"And I have something they don't," he interrupts, his smile sharp as a blade.
"What's that?"
"Nothing left to lose." His thumbs stroke over my cheekbones, wiping away tears I didn't realize had fallen. "My career's on hold indefinitely. My brain's scrambled eggs half the time. But you know what's crystal clear?"
I shake my head.
"The fact that anyone who wants to hurt you has to go through me first." His voice sinks to a growl. "And darling, I'm a lot more dangerous than they think."
Before I can respond, before I can tell him he's crazy or heroic or both, he's kissing me.
This isn't like the desperate collision in the alley. This is deliberate, thorough, devastating. His mouth moves over mine like he's memorizing the taste of me, like he's claiming something that already belongs to him.
I melt into him, my hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer. He tastes like promises of safety and danger rolled into one intoxicating package.
When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"There's one more thing," I manage, my lips still tingling from his kiss.
"What?"
Heat floods my face, but I force myself to meet his eyes. "I'm... I've never..."
Understanding dawns on his face, followed by something that looks dangerously like reverence.
"Virgin," he says softly, not a question.
I nod, mortified and aroused in equal measure.
"Damn, Tara." His forehead drops to mine. "You're going to kill me."
"Is that... bad?"
His laugh is rough, strained. "Bad? Sweetheart, knowing I get to be your first? Knowing I get to show you how good it can be?" His hands slide down my sides, settling on my hips. "That's not bad. That's everything."
The air between us crackles with heat, with possibility, with the weight of secrets finally shared. I can feel his heart hammering against his ribs, can see the want burning in his eyes.
"Cam," I whisper, not sure what I'm asking for.
His hands span my waist, lifting me easily onto the kitchen counter. The cold granite makes me gasp, but then his body is between my thighs, warm, solid, and perfect.
"Tell me what you want," he says, his voice rough with barely contained need.
"I want..." I start, then stop, embarrassed by my own boldness.
"What, babe? Tell me."
"I want to forget," I admit. "Just for a little while, I want to forget about my family and the danger and all of it. I want to feel something that's just mine."
His eyes darken. "I can do that."
His mouth crashes back to mine, rougher this time, all hunger and heat. His tongue pushes past my lips, claiming, teasing, demanding more, and I give it to him, tugging at his hair like I can anchor myself in him.
His hands roam down my sides, slow and deliberate, then curl under my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the counter.
The hard bulge pressing against me makes my breath catch.
I’ve never felt anything like it — the thickness, the heat, the sheer male solidity of him slotting between my legs.
My body pulses with want, raw and unrelenting.
“Cam,” I whisper against his mouth, part plea, part warning.
“I’ve got you, baby.” His voice is filled with need, but steady. “I’ll take care of you. First time’s gonna be mine, and you’re gonna love every second.”
His fingers slip under my T-shirt, skimming up over my stomach, my ribs, until he’s cupping my breasts. The cotton bra does nothing to dull the sensation of his thumbs rubbing over my hardened nipples. Sparks shoot through me, and I arch into his hands, my thighs tightening around his waist.
“So sensitive,” he groans, kissing down my throat, nipping the tender skin. “Every part of you is begging for this.”
He drags the shirt over my head, tossing it aside, then unhooks my bra with infuriating ease. My chest is bare to him, flushed and trembling, and the way he looks at me —reverent, greedy— makes me wetter than I thought possible.
“Beautiful,” he rasps. “Mine.” His mouth closes over one breast, sucking hard, while his hand kneads the other. I cry out, the sound raw and shocked, and he moans against me like it fuels him.
“Cam, please—”
He lifts his head, eyes blazing. “I know, baby. You’re ready for me. But I want you naked first.”
He strips me quick, shorts and panties gone in one pull, leaving me bare on the cold counter. I’ve never been this exposed, but with him between my thighs, I can feel how wet I am, throbbing with need.
He slides a finger through my slick folds, groaning at how wet I am. “Sweetheart…you’re dripping for me. Your body knows what you need, even if you don’t.”
I gasp as he circles my clit, the sensation too sharp, too intense, my hips jerking helplessly. “Cam!”
“That’s it,” he growls, stroking faster. “Doesn’t this feel good? I want to feel you come on my hand before I bury myself inside you.”
It builds too fast, spiraling hot and unbearable, and then I break, crying out his name as waves of pleasure roll through me. He kisses me hard, swallowing the sound, fingers still stroking until I’m shaking.
When he finally pulls away, his shorts are shoved down, and I see him — thick, hard, overwhelming. My pulse stutters. “Cam, I don’t—”
He hushes me with a kiss. “I’ll go slow. I’ll make it good. First time, best time. I’ve got you.”
He lines himself up, the blunt head nudging my entrance, and I gasp at the pressure. He grips my hips, steadying me. “Deep breaths, Tara. Just me. Just us.”
Then he pushes in, inch by inch, stretching me wide, burning but perfect. Tears prick my eyes, but his voice is there, soft and steady. “That’s it. Take me. You can take all of me.”
When he’s fully inside, filling me completely, I realize I’ve never felt more claimed, more alive.
Cam’s forehead rests against mine, his breath ragged.
And then he starts to move.
My breasts bounce against his chest with each push, nipples brushing the rough heat of his skin until sparks skitter through me. His scent is everywhere — soap, sweat, something earthy and purely him — and every grind of his hips presses me tighter into the counter.
I can’t stop watching him. The way his sharp jaw flexes as he drives deeper, the sweat beading along his shoulders, the animalistic sound he makes when I clench around him. He’s strong and raw and beautiful, moving in me like he can’t get close enough.
A stunned sound escapes me — half laugh, half moan. I’ve never felt this much at once: the drag of him inside me, my own body responding without hesitation, the dizzying thought that I might actually break from how good it feels.
His rhythm grows harder, rougher, until every thrust rocks me against the counter.
The cold granite bites into my skin, but all I can feel is him — deep, relentless, filling me so completely I can’t think.
My cries tumble out without filter, every sound swallowed by his mouth or met with another punishing grind of his hips.
Then he growls against my lips, “I need more of you.”
Before I can catch my breath, his arms scoop under me. I yelp, wrapping my legs around his waist as he lifts me off the counter like I weigh nothing.
For one ridiculous second, I actually think: this man must have the strongest back in professional sports. And then he proves it — standing there, carrying me, driving into me like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
The angle has me spread wide for him, and when he slams back in, the shock rips a cry from my throat.
“Cam!”
His teeth scrape my shoulder as he groans, “Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
My nails drag down his slick shoulders, my body clenching around him like it can keep him forever.
He slams back into me, and the sound that tears from my throat is part moan, part disbelieving laugh.
I cling to him, but then another thought blindsides me — one of those reckless porn flashes I’ve secretly watched at night.
Oh, I wonder…
And then—impulse takes me. I wriggle down against him, twisting in his arms until my palms hit the wall and my back arches toward him.
“Please,” I whisper, glancing back at him over my shoulder, heat flaming my cheeks. “I just… I wondered…”
My face goes hot — did I seriously just porn-move him? — but the stunned groan that rumbles out of his chest tells me exactly how much he loves it.
“Baby,” he growls, voice guttural, “you just made me harder.” His grip clamps around my hips, holding me steady as he positions himself behind me.
He bends low, his mouth at my ear, breath hot. “You’re sexy as hell like this…but this position? Not for beginners.” His tone is rough, possessive, the kind of warning that feels like a promise.
“So we do it my way. Slowly because I want you to feel every inch of me sliding into you without hurting you.”
He presses forward, deliberate, and the stretch is overwhelming, his control terrifyingly hot. My palms flatten against the wall, my breasts dragging across the cool surface as he eases in, grinding his hips until I’m gasping.
“See?” he murmurs, voice all grit and obsession. “You take me better like this. You’ll learn to love it. And when you do—” his teeth graze my neck, “—I’ll give it to you harder.”
OMG, this man can talk dirty.
The new angle is everything. He’s deeper, thicker, every slow plunge hitting a spot I didn’t even know existed. Watching porn never prepared me for this — the sharp stretch, the raw pressure, the way pleasure sears so hot my knees nearly buckle.
A low moan tears out of me, then another, building into desperate grunts I can’t hold back. My palms press harder into the wall, my cheek brushing the cool surface as I push against it, instinctively tipping my hips higher, offering more.
“Cam…” I pant, wiggling down onto him, my ass arching back, shameless now. “More. Please, I need—”
He growls, bending over me, his chest slick against my back. His hands swing around, grabbing my breasts where they hang heavy and perfect, spilling over his palms.
“Sweetheart,” he rasps, thrusting deep, “these tits are beautiful. Overflowing my hands…so big, so soft, I can barely hold all of you.” He groans, grinding harder, his fingers digging in.
“Been fantasizing about them since the first night I saw you. Watching them bounce, wondering if I’d get to own them one day. They’re mine now—every inch of you is.”
I scream internally. Here I am obsessing over my clumsy, porn-inspired move, and he counters by talking like he wrote the script. And yeah, I want to hear every single line.
He squeezes, thumbs circling over my nipples, tugging until I moan.
Each sharp thrust makes my breasts jolt against his hands, the weight of them dragging and tugging with every stroke.
The filth of his words, the worship in his voice, the way his cock drives into me all at once has me whimpering like I’ve lost control of my own body.
“Cam!” My voice cracks, high and raw, as another thrust slams pleasure straight through me.
“That’s it,” he urges, voice dark and reverent in my ear. “Ride me, baby. Show me how much you can take.” His hips grind harder, deeper, until I’m trembling, my body clenching tight around him.
The pressure builds sharp, unbearable, my own moans turning frantic as my thighs quake. I shove back against him, matching his rhythm, my cries of “More!” echoing off the kitchen walls. His pace falters, stutters, his breath harsh in my ear.
“Tara—” he groans, his thrusts unrelenting. “I’ll give you everything. I’ll give you so much you won’t remember your own name. Just mine.”
Heat bursts low in my belly, racing up my spine until I’m shuddering. The orgasm rips through me, violent and blinding, my entire body clamping around him as I scream his name.
Cam’s answering roar is a guttural vibration against my skin as he drives deep, spilling into me, his hands crushing my breasts while his body locks tight against mine.
We collapse into the wall together, breathless, shaking, every nerve scorched and alive. His forehead presses to my shoulder, his lips dragging against damp skin.
And somewhere in the haze, my brain blurts one last ridiculous thought: I think I actually owe porn an apology—because real life is so much better.
“Guess that’s me now,” he mutters between ragged breaths, still pulsing deep inside me. “Your shiny knight in sweaty, non-existent armor. And a complete sex fiend when it comes to you.”
Despite everything—the danger, the secrets, the heat still pulsing through me—I laugh, the sound shaky and stunned. Because he’s right.
He’s every contradiction, every impossible thing I shouldn’t want. And yet here he is, holding me up, making me feel safer than I ever have. For the first time, I wonder what it would feel like to stop running—and let someone catch me.