Chapter 49
TARA
"What are you doing? Giving me the grand tour?" I say lightly as Cameron escorts down a long hallway.”
“Just showing you our bedroom," he says.
I almost gasp.
The bedroom looks like something you'd see in a film. Or in a high-end interior design magazine.
Soaring floor-to-ceiling windows, with the city glittering in front of us. A bed so massive it looks almost unreal.
“Why is your bed so big?” I say, the high-end sparkler and marriage proposal making me bold. "Do you have orgies on that bed, Mr. Rockstar?”
His looks at me through darkened eyes, a smirk quirking his lips. “Only a few times.”
The smile is just wicked enough that I can’t tell if he’s joking.
Cameron pulls me in closer for a kiss. His velvet lips press firmly against mine.
His hands ae already unzipping the gorgeous new dress he bought me.
It falls into a silken pool around my ankles.
Suddenly, I'm aware that I'm wearing lacey lingerie and high heels near a window.
Thousands of people in the surrounding office buildings and apartments could see us through the glass.
“Can you lower the window shade? I'm only wearing lingerie."
“No worries. That will come off too,” he says, stepping toward me.
He unhooks my wispy bra slowly, taking his time. His eyes express delight at what he sees beneath the silk.
That look, and the cool air hardening my nipples, arouses me.
And bold. Suddenly brazen.
"Are you an exhibitionist?" I ask.
“Quite possibly. What about you?”
My cheeks flame red as he takes a step back, his eyes roaming my body with a heat that makes my skin prickle.
Still wearing his suit and tie, Cameron kneels so he’s face-to-face with my silk panties. He lowers them.
“No!”
“No?” He looks up at me with a smile. “Do you really mean that?”
“Yes. No. I mean… I’d like to freshen up first.”
Cameron rises smoothly, towering over me again. His smile fades into something more serious, more deliberate. “Then let me show you your bathroom.”
“My bathroom?” I echo, hugging my arms across my naked breasts as he leads me across the room and flicks open the lights.
The room is white on white, gleaming marble from floor to ceiling. It's polished so bright it looks unreal. Sleek Italian faucets. A deep Roman tub.
“Yes. The master suite has two of everything. Two walk-in closets, as well. We’ll have a fun shopping spree filling yours with gorgeous clothes.”
Cameron's thumbs press into the knots at the base of my neck, loosening muscles I didn’t realize were clenched.
His lips brush the side of my ear.
“You’re tense. I want you relaxed tonight. You're mine. I intend to enjoy my time with you.”
The area between my thighs moistens. A ripple of anticipation races through me.
Then he pulls back, smoothing a hand over my hair. “I’ll shower in my own bathroom. We'll meet up afterward. Shall I show you how to work the tub?”
My heart kicks. “I think I can manage.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, brushing one last kiss across my shoulder before slipping away.
When the door closes behind him, I step closer to the tub and turn on the faucets.
Steam rises. I pour the pink oil sitting on the shelf into the tub and immediately inhale the scent of fresh roses.
Then I sink into the water.
It’s like sliding into liquid silk. Heat laps over my breasts, down my belly, between my thighs.
My skin tingles.
I close my eyes and think of Cameron. How lucky I am to have him.
Warmth wraps around my body, easing the Champagne buzz yet making me restless.
My hand drifts down my belly as the familiar, pulsating urge kicks in.
I feel compelled to stroke myself, but I hesitate.
I shouldn’t. Not here. Not now.
What if Cameron catches me touching what should rightfully be his alone?
The very thought of that excites me.
Even more than what I perceive to be Cameron's kink of being observed during sex.
I part my silken thighs under the water. My fingers brush my slick skin.
Then I hear a knock at the door.
"May I come in?"
He enters before I can speak. Takes a fluffy folded towel and holds it open for me as if I was a child.
My legs feel weak, but I let him pull me up from the water. Droplets slide down my skin.
He wraps me up slow, careful, like I’m something precious.
“Dry off,” he murmurs, rubbing the fabric over my shoulders, down my arms.
My breath catches when he kneels to press it against my thighs. The heat of his palms lingers through the cotton.
He looks up, eyes locking with mine. “Now.”
He leads me to the darkened bedroom, illuminated by candles he must have just lit.
I clutch the towel tighter, but he takes it from me, dropping it aside.
I should feel embarrassed, exposed in front of those wide windows—but Cameron's gaze makes it feel different.
"You're beautiful."
He leads me to the bed, massive and white, sheets smooth as silk. When I lie back, he spreads me open with gentle hands.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers.
Then his mouth finds my thigh. A kiss so soft I nearly cry out. Another, higher this time.
My body jolts.
“Cameron…” My voice is a broken plea.
He smiles against my skin, lips brushing closer. The rough scrape of his stubble makes me gasp.
He trails kisses up the inside of my thigh, slow, patient, until I can barely breathe.
“You taste like Champagne,” he says, his voice low. “And salt. Perfect.”
His tongue traces just beside where I need him most. My hips lift on their own, desperate.
“Shh,” he murmurs, holding me down with one hand. “Let me take my time.”
His mouth closes in, tongue flicking, teasing, circling everywhere but the center. I groan, trembling, my fingers clawing at the sheets.
“Please,” I whisper.
He finally gives in, lips sealing over my clit, tongue stroking with deliberate care.
The shock of it rips a moan from me. I’ve never felt anything like this. Not even close.
“Good girl,” he says between strokes. “That’s it. Let go.”
My body arches, every nerve alive, and I dissolve under him, shattering with pleasure while his mouth keeps me anchored, keeps me his.
I collapse against the pillows, breathless. My thighs still tremble. Cameron wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then climbs onto the bed beside me.
“You’re beautiful like this,” he says, brushing hair from my face. “Breathless. Flushed. Mine."
His words make me shiver.
He kisses me slowly, letting me taste myself on his lips. Then he pulls back, eyes dark. “Are you ready, Tara?”
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
He slides a hand between my thighs, fingers gliding through the slick heat he created. “You’re so wet. Perfect for me.”
The head of his cock presses against me, firm and unyielding.
“I know you're apprehensive. I’ll go slow. If it’s too much, tell me. I’ll stop.”
I nod, my heart pounding.
He pushes forward a fraction. Pressure burns low in my body. My nails pull at the sheets.
“You’re doing so well,” he whispers, kissing my temple. “Relax. Let me in.”
Millimeter by millimeter, he eases deeper. My body stretches around him, strange and overwhelming—but not unbearable.
His patience keeps me grounded.
Then he’s fully inside me. My breath catches. The fullness is shocking, almost too much.
“Look at me,” he says softly. His eyes hold mine, steady as the sea. “Tell me what you feel.”
“I… I feel you,” I manage, voice trembling. “All of you.”
A slow smile curves his mouth. He draws back, then sinks in again, so careful, so measured it makes my chest ache.
The discomfort fades, replaced by something else—heat, pressure, pleasure blooming deeper with each stroke.
My hips lift instinctively, meeting his. He groans, low and rough. “That’s it. Take me. Good girl.”
The rhythm builds, slow at first, then stronger. My body adjusts, opens for him. The pain dissolves into something molten, something I crave more of.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, clinging. “Don’t stop,” I whisper.
He thrusts deeper, harder. His mouth finds mine, kissing me fiercely, as if he could brand me with his lips as much as his body.
Pleasure crests faster than I expect. My back arches, a cry tearing from my throat. He follows me over the edge, groaning my name as he spills inside me.
I collapse against him, every nerve still sparking. My chest heaves, trying to catch air, but his arms are already around me. Strong. Steady. Holding me like I might break.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. Just the sound of our breathing, our hearts beating against each other.
Finally, Cameron brushes his lips across my hair. “How does it feel to be my woman?”
“You need to ask?” I say lightly.
His laugh is soft, low. “Good. That’s all I wanted. For your first time to be good.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. I lift my head, studying him in the flickering candlelight.
His face looks younger like this—unguarded, almost vulnerable.
Like the face on his first album covers I remember seeing on the Internet.
And for this moment alone, I feel the age gap has disappeared. That we’re both young, sharing this magical experience for the first time.
“I was terrified,” I admit. “But you made it feel safe.”
He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing gently over my skin. “Because I love you, Tara. I love you.”
The words hit me like lightning.
“I think I did from the moment I saw you at the club.” He shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips.
“I tried to fight it. God knows I did. But I couldn’t stay away from you. I don’t want to.”
Something inside me loosens, like a knot pulled free.
His kiss seals the words between us, tender and lingering.
We lie tangled together, skin to skin, candlelight fading as the city glows outside the windows.
For the first time in years, I feel whole. Seen. Wanted.
His arms tighten around me, protective even in rest. “Forever,” he murmurs against my hair.
“Forever and ever,” I whisper back. And for the first time in my life, I believe it.