Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
Killion
Breaking the Line
We stumble into my bedroom, the door clicking shut behind us with a sense of finality. My hand fumbles with the lock, the sound of it turning somehow louder than it should be, like it’s announcing our intentions to the entire world. I turn to face her, my breath uneven as I meet her eyes. They’re wide, uncertain, but blazing with a heat that matches the inferno building in my chest.
“Are we really doing this?” I ask, my voice low and gravelly, carrying the weight of too many emotions I’ve spent years avoiding. My heart is hammering so hard, it’s probably visible through my shirt. Romantic.
Camille’s lips part, and her breath hitches. For a second, I think she might back out, and I brace myself for rejection. But then she leans in, her eyes locking onto mine. “I hope so,” she whispers, her voice so soft it could dissolve me on the spot.
I cup her cheek, my thumb gliding over her skin. It’s smooth and warm, and I wonder if she feels the tremor in my hand. “I need you, Cam,” I admit, the words tumbling out rough and desperate. “So fucking much.”
“Shut up and kiss me, Killion,” she orders, her tone half a challenge and half an invitation.
Oh, I’ll shut up. I crash my mouth onto hers, leaving no doubt about who’s in charge—or at least trying to convince myself I am. The kiss is explosive, a heady mix of hunger and emotion that steals every rational thought I’ve ever had. My hands move instinctively, skimming over the thick, winter layers that feel like they’re conspiring to keep us apart. I tug at her scarf, then her coat, discarding them onto the floor like unwrapping the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.
The heat between us builds, a living, breathing thing that sparks with every touch. My senses are overwhelmed—her scent, a mix of vanilla and something floral, clings to the air. Her lips taste faintly of chocolate, and I realize with a grin that it’s from the damn cookies she stole earlier.
“Chocolate?” I murmur against her lips, my voice teasing.
Her laughter is breathless and warm against my mouth. “You’re one to talk. Your lips taste like bourbon and bad decisions.”
Probably.
I press her closer, my hands sliding to her waist, feeling the curve of her body beneath the knit sweater she’s wearing. It’s soft, but not as soft as her skin, which I’m suddenly desperate to feel. My fingers tug at the hem, the fabric resisting slightly before giving way. Beneath it, her skin is warm, and the contact sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
She leans into me, her hands roaming over my chest, tugging at my shirt like she’s done waiting. “You have too many clothes on,” she murmurs, her breath hot against my ear.
I chuckle, the sound rough and self-deprecating. “So do you. Let’s fix that.”
Her sweater joins the growing pile of clothing on the floor, and I marvel at the sight of her—flushed cheeks, slightly messy hair, her lips swollen from our kisses. She’s stunning, and I feel like a mess in comparison, but somehow, she’s looking at me like I’m the only thing she wants.
The room feels hotter, like the air itself has thickened around us, wrapping us in a cocoon of shared heat and desire. Every nerve in my body is tuned to her—her soft sighs, the way her fingers dig into my shoulders as I kiss the sensitive skin of her neck. Time seems to stretch, each second heavy with need and anticipation, each touch igniting a fire that threatens to consume me entirely.
Camille stands before me now in nothing but her bra and panties, the soft fabric clinging to her curves. My boxers feel like they’re burning against my skin, a cruel barrier that only amplifies my growing ache for her. She’s perfect—absolutely breathtaking—with her flushed cheeks and eyes half-lidded with want.
I step closer, my hands trailing up her sides, over her ribs, until they find the clasp of her bra. My fingers fumble for a moment, my eagerness getting the better of me, but then the clasp gives way, and the straps slide down her shoulders. The garment falls to the floor, forgotten, as I take her in.
Her breasts are full and flawless, her nipples pebbled from either the cold air or the heat of the moment—or maybe both. My breath catches, and I can’t help but let out a low groan. “God, Cam, you’re . . . fuck, you’re incredible.”
She bites her lip, her cheeks darkening in a way that tells me my words affect her just as much as her body affects me. “Are you just going to stare, or are you going to do something about it?” she teases, her voice breathy but laced with challenge.
I answer by cupping her breasts with both hands, my palms warm against her soft, supple skin. She arches into my touch, her breath hitching as my thumbs circle her nipples, teasing them until they stiffen further under my ministrations. Her moan is quiet but needy, and the sound sends a jolt of desire straight to my core.
“Fuck, you’re so soft,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her neck, her collarbone, trailing my lips lower. The faint taste of her skin—salty, sweet, and entirely her—fuels my hunger. My mouth finds one of her nipples, and I draw it into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive bud.
Her reaction is instant. She gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. “Killion,” she breathes, her voice trembling, somewhere between a plea and a command.
I suck gently at first, then harder, pulling more of her into my mouth. My hand kneads her other breast, my fingers tugging and teasing her nipple until her hips buck against me, seeking more contact. The sounds she makes—soft, breathless moans and whispered curses—are like music, and I want to hear more, to make her completely lose herself in this moment.
Switching to her other breast, I lavish it with the same attention, my tongue flicking and swirling as my lips tug at her sensitive flesh. Her nails rake lightly against my scalp, and the slight sting only heightens the pleasure coursing through me. She’s trembling now, her body responding to every touch, every kiss, every deliberate motion of my hands and mouth.
“You taste so good,” I murmur against her skin, my voice rough and thick with need. “I could do this all night.”
Her laugh is breathless, edged with desire. “You better not stop,” she manages, her voice shaking as her body presses against mine.
I chuckle, low and deep, the sound vibrating against her chest. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”
I trail kisses back up to her neck, my hands sliding down to her waist, then to the curve of her hips. The heat radiating from her skin is intoxicating, and I know I’m on the edge of losing all control. But for now, I want her to feel everything—to be consumed by the same fire that’s burning through me.
Camille’s body is pliant beneath my hands, her breathy moans filling the room like a melody only I get to hear. She’s the embodiment of temptation, her flushed skin, soft curves, and the way she whispers my name like a prayer. My lips trail back to her collarbone, my hands exploring her hips, dipping to the waistband of her panties.
I pause, looking up at her, waiting for her permission. Her eyes meet mine, and she gives a small nod, her teeth catching her bottom lip. I hook my fingers under the thin fabric, slowly peeling it down her legs, savoring every inch of skin revealed. She’s bare before me now, utterly stunning and breathtakingly real. My cock strains against my boxers, and I bite back a groan as the sight of her ignites something primal in me.
Her hands slide to my waistband, and I raise an eyebrow, my smirk playful despite the heat building between us. “Impatient, are we?”
“Fair’s fair,” she replies, her voice laced with amusement and desire. She tugs my boxers down, and they fall to the floor. Her eyes sweep over me, and the way she bites her lip makes my pulse skyrocket. “You’re not exactly hard to look at.”
I chuckle, but the sound catches in my throat when her hand wraps around me, her touch firm and electrifying. “Careful, Cam,” I manage, my voice strained. “You’re playing with fire.”
She grins, her confidence intoxicating. “Maybe I like getting burned.”
Before I can respond, she shifts, pulling me onto the bed with her. The mattress dips under our weight, and she leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s equal parts tender and consuming. Her hands roam my body, exploring the planes of my chest and the muscles of my back, before she pulls back, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I have an idea,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. She pushes me gently onto my back, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Lie back and trust me.”
I obey, my body humming with anticipation as she straddles me, her warm skin pressed against mine. She trails kisses down my chest, her lips soft and teasing as they move lower. I shudder under her touch, every nerve in my body on high alert. But then she shifts again, turning her body until her thighs frame my head, her heat just inches from my lips.
Fuck.
The sight of her like this—completely uninhibited, her body offered to me—is enough to make me lose my mind. “You’re perfect,” I murmur, my hands gripping her hips as I pull her closer. “Absolutely fucking perfect.”
She laughs softly, the sound vibrating through her body as her lips brush the tip of my cock. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”
Challenge accepted.
I lower my head, my tongue darting out to taste her. She’s warm and wet, her arousal intoxicating as I explore her with slow, deliberate strokes. She gasps, her body trembling above me, and I feel her lips part as she takes me into her mouth. The sensation is almost too much—her tongue swirling, her hands stroking, while her moans vibrate against me.
We move together, each of us giving and taking, the rhythm of our bodies perfectly in sync. The room is filled with the sounds of our pleasure—her breathy cries, my low groans, the wet slide of skin on skin. Every touch, every taste, every moment is a perfect blend of passion and urgency .
My hands grip her hips tighter as I bury my tongue deeper, savoring the way she writhes above me, her movements growing more frantic. She responds in kind, her mouth driving me to the edge, her hands exploring me with a hunger that matches my own.
Time ceases to exist as we lose ourselves in each other, every sensation amplified, every touch electric. The world outside the room fades away, leaving only us—tangled together in a heated blur of desire and need.
Her thighs tremble around my head, and I feel her warmth pressing closer as she lowers herself fully onto me. My tongue dives into her, exploring her slick heat, teasing her clit before gliding back down to circle her entrance. She’s intoxicating, every soft moan and shiver making me harder, more desperate to consume her.
At the same time, her lips close around the head of my cock, her tongue swirling in maddening circles that have me gripping her hips tighter, holding her firmly in place. The sensation of her mouth is almost too much—wet, hot, and impossibly good as she takes me deeper, inch by inch, until I’m groaning against her core.
I thrust my tongue into her, matching the rhythm of her movements, my hands tightening around her waist to guide her. Her muffled moan vibrates along my length as she sucks harder, her hands working the base of my cock in perfect coordination with her lips.
Fuck, she’s perfect—so fucking perfect.
I slide one hand down, trailing my fingers along her slick folds until I press one inside her. She gasps around me, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. Her walls grip me as I curl my finger, searching for the spot that will drive her wild. I find it quickly, and her hips jerk against my face, her thighs quivering as she tries to keep her balance.
“God, Camille,” I growl, my voice muffled against her. “You taste so fucking good.”
Her only response is a moan, her lips still wrapped around me as she moves faster, her tongue flicking against me with deliberate precision. I can’t tell if I’m making her lose control or if it’s the other way around, but I don’t care. I add a second finger, thrusting them deep and curling them with every stroke, my tongue never leaving her clit.
Her pace falters for a moment as her moans grow louder, her body trembling as I push her closer to the edge. But she doesn’t stop. She doubles down, taking me even deeper, her hand gripping me firmly as her mouth works me with an intensity that has me on the brink of losing it.
Every sensation is overwhelming—the way she moves, the way she sounds, the way her body responds to every flick of my tongue and thrust of my fingers. The room is filled with the wet, sinful sounds of us, the heat between us building to an almost unbearable level.
I feel her starting to fall apart, her hips bucking against my face as her thighs clamp tighter around my head. Her cries are muffled against me as she shakes, her release overtaking her, and I don’t let up, riding out her pleasure with my tongue and fingers, savoring every moment of her climax.
At the same time, she moans deeply, her mouth pulling me in even harder, and it’s my undoing. My groan vibrates against her as I spill into her mouth, the pleasure ripping through me like a wave. She takes every bit of me, her movements slowing as we both come down from the high, our bodies trembling and tangled together.
She shifts slightly, her lips leaving me as she moves to collapse beside me. Her chest heaves as she catches her breath, her face flushed, her hair messy, and a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
“That,” she says between breaths, her voice husky, “was fucking incredible.”
I chuckle, my own breathing unsteady as I turn to look at her. “You think you’ve had enough?”
Her smile widens, eyes gleaming with mischief that sets my pulse racing. “Oh, Killion,” she purrs, dragging a finger down my chest, “we’re just getting started.”
I capture her mouth in a searing kiss, murmuring against her lips, “And this is exactly why I love you so fucking much.”