Chapter Nine #2
Her fingers find it, brushing under the edge of my jaw. I shiver again, every nerve awake and wanting.
Dot lingers a moment longer, and when she’s done, my skin’s cooled—but the rest of me is burning up.
After she puts the aloe away, she lies back on top of the covers with her clothes on while I deposit the trash into the plastic bin.
“Lights on or off?” I ask, since I’m already near the door.
Dot’s eyes drift up to the deer head. “Off, I think.”
On the one hand, I don’t want to miss anything. On the other, it’s probably a good idea to deprive one of my senses. I want to make this last.
I turn off the lights and shuffle, barefoot, back to the bed. The springs groan when I lie down. Next to me, Dot sucks in a breath.
“Can I kiss you?” I ask.
The room is utterly dark. I’m almost painfully aware of the sound of Dot rolling closer to me. My skin prickles as one of her hands settles on my cheek, tracing my jawline.
Her lips meet mine a moment later, slightly off-center, but we course-correct almost instantly.
I’m already half hard with anticipation.
I slide one arm around Dot’s waist and drag her against me.
The sound of surprise she makes when her thigh settles between my legs makes my dick ache.
I rub my hand along her back, down to the generous curve of her ass.
Dot pants and squirms against me. Her lips part, and without stopping to think, I flick the tip of my tongue into her mouth.
What to do next? I’ve imagined this night so many times, in so many different variations.
I pull back, far enough so that I can ask, “Can I take off your shirt?” My voice is low and raspy. A stranger’s voice.
“Please.” Dot wriggles out of my grasp and yanks her shirt over her head immediately. Then—God—she’s before me in nothing but her bra, flushed and eager, and I freeze.
Not from doubt. From wonder.
She starts to come back to me, all wild hands and want, but I catch her wrists and hold her steady as the moonlight streams in through the cracks between the old curtains.
“Wait.” My voice cracks. I swallow hard. “Just—let me look.”
Her chest rises, breath shallow, eyes searching mine.
I run my hands up slowly, tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her ribs, until my thumbs brush the underside of her breasts through the fabric.
I’ve pictured this for years, but nothing prepared me.
“Jesus, Dot…” I murmur, brushing my fingers over her nipples until they pebble through her bra. “You’re gonna ruin me slow.”
Then she moans and arches, and it snaps something in me.
She tugs my arm until I realize what she wants. I’m more than happy to roll on top of her, to press her down into the mattress and grind my hips against hers.
As much as I want to be inside her, I’m in no rush. “You’ve got some kind of magic powers, don’t you?” I ask.
She giggles. “Is that a line? Do you say that to everyone you take to bed?”
Technically, yes. “Only in rooms that look like a sexy log cabin.” I kiss her again, slow and deep. “But I’m serious. When you touch me, my brain gets quiet.”
“Is that a good thing?”
I lower my head to rest my forehead against her collarbone. “It’s really nice. My ADHD is off the charts. Usually, I have fifteen thoughts at a time.”
“You have ADHD?” Dot sounds surprised.
“You didn’t know? I thought it was obvious?”
She hums to herself and runs one hand absentmindedly through my hair. I buck and shiver against her. “It makes sense. Especially with some of the conversations we had in school. We’ve never talked about it, though.”
“I got my diagnosis in college.” I kiss her neck. It’s Dot’s turn to squirm. “We weren’t talking as much then.”
She’s breathless when she stammers, “And here I thought I kn-knew everything ab-bout… oh, fuck.” I lick her earlobe. Seems like she enjoys that. I want to put my mouth all over her, to lick and nibble and devour her. I run my hand up her torso.
“What do you want?” I whisper.
“This.” Her voice trembles.
“But what do you like?” I press. “What would make you feel good?”
Dot stills beneath me. I lift myself up on my arms. I don’t know what just happened, but I could feel her shut down.
For a second, I think I’ve broken something.
She goes quiet, and every nerve in me starts buzzing.
I’m the one who’s supposed to know what he’s doing, but the truth is I’ve never done this either.
Not really. There were chances, sure, I’ve done certain things, but none that ever felt like this—like it mattered.
Now I’ve got Dot Shaw, the girl I’ve been half in love with since we were kids, warm and trembling beneath me, and I’m terrified I’m going to mess it up.
I want her to think I know how to touch her, how to make her feel everything she’s been missing, but all I can think is don’t ruin this, don’t hurt her, don’t let her see you don’t know either.
“Since we’re telling each other things…” She clears her throat. “I don’t have a lot of experience. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You could never disappoint me,” I tell her. “No such scenario exists.”
“I just mean…” She sighs again. “I’m a virgin.
Not that it technically matters, but I’m pretty sure that reading smut hasn’t given me a great idea of what it would actually be like to have sex with a real person, you know?
So whatever you want to do is fine by me, and if you do anything I don’t like, I’ll tell you. ”
“Oh.” I let myself tip to the side so that I’m resting next to her. “I see.” A thought slips out before I can stop it. “What about your college boyfriend? You never—?”
She shakes her head, cheeks pink even in the dark. “No. It didn’t feel right.”
“Didn’t feel right how?”
“I don’t know.” She stares up at the ceiling. “He was nice enough, but every time things got close, my brain… said no. Like my body was waiting for something my head couldn’t explain.”
Something tightens in my chest. “Something—or someone?”
Someone like me.
There’s a long pause. “Maybe both.”
All the noise in my head drops out, leaving one clear thought: she waited.
Of course, Dot misinterprets my silence.
“I shouldn’t have told you!” Something thumps against the pillows. “Now you’re going to stop.”
“No. I’m going to adjust my expectations.” My voice is calm, but my brain is screaming, Dot waited too! I doubt that her reasons were the same as mine, but this changes things. I knew she’d had a college boyfriend, and until right now, I assumed that she’d slept with other people.
“I want this,” she whispers, voice soft but certain, her fingers brushing mine with a barely-contained tremble.
“I know.” I cup her cheek and kiss her temple. God, I know. But I want more than tonight. I want a first time we remember not because of the flimsy hotel comforter or the redneck picnic, or the AI peeping Tom, but because it meant something. She deserves that. She deserves perfect.
But she arches into me, and the way her body trusts mine? That already feels perfect.
Her fingers land on my stomach and pause. “Oh! You have…” she trails off, eyes wide and reverent as her palms trace each muscle. “Abs. Real abs.”
I can’t help the grin tugging at my mouth. “Flattered.” I press a kiss to her collarbone. “Can I take your bra off?”
“I’ve got it,” she says quickly. Her voice wobbles. But her fingers are sure as they reach behind her, a flick of the clasp, and then—
Christ.
She slides the cotton straps off her shoulders, arms, and chest. The fabric slips away, and she lies back, half-defiant, half-vulnerable, watching me through her lashes like she’s bracing herself for impact.
She has no idea.
I stop breathing.
Dot’s breasts are… fuck. Full, high, impossibly soft-looking, the kind of tits they used to sculpt in marble and airbrush on bomber planes.
The kind of tits that get songs written about them.
Perfect in the way that wrecks a man. Her nipples are a dusky rose, already pebbled, and my mouth actually waters.
She’s built like a goddamn 1950s pinup. Curves like sin.
Waist narrow, hips generous. Her belly soft, thighs thick, skin glowing in the warm, low light like honey and cream.
A body made for lingerie, for heels, for slow undressing—but here she is, offering it all up without an ounce of vanity. Nervous, yes. But proud. Brave.
She has no fucking idea what she does to me.
I want to fall to my knees and worship her.
I remember wanting to kiss her in high school and a thousand times since, but freezing because I was terrified she’d laugh.
But tonight, I’m not going to freeze.
My hand is shaking when I reach out—slow, like if I move too fast, she’ll disappear—and skim my fingers along the swell of one breast. Silence stretches between us. Her chest rises. And I swear I see her bloom beneath my touch—her body saying yes before her voice can catch up.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” I whisper. “Of you. Just like this.”
Her lips part. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t have to. That look in her eyes—uncertain, glittering with heat, with belief—is the most intimate thing I’ve ever seen.
Lowering myself between her thighs, I let my lips find the swell of her breast. A tiny mewl falls from her lips the moment my tongue traces around her nipple. I feel her legs shift, thighs clenching against my ribs. She’s already there with me, teetering on the edge.
My hand skims her stomach, fingers brushing that sensitive skin above her waistband. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I’ll be mad if you do.” She smiles, breathless.
It takes a few tries to get the button open—mostly because I can’t stop flicking my tongue across her nipple and marveling at how she gasps, back arching, hips lifting.
Then I touch her.
And everything changes.
Her whole body jolts. “Oh!” The sound escapes her before she can catch it. But she tries—claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
“You can make noise, you know,” I say, nuzzling her neck.
“Not here,” she hisses. “The walls are thin and I— I’m— With my vibrator, I, um, I… moan.”
Fuck me.
“I want to hear that. Every time. Every moan, every gasp—mine now. You come, you cry, you scream—you do it for me.” I press a kiss under her ear, then dip my fingers lower. She’s soaked. Slippery and hot and aching for me.
I slide a finger inside her, then another. She gasps again, hands fisting the sheets. I keep my thumb on her clit, circling, teasing, watching her unravel inch by inch.
“You feel…” My throat tightens. “God, Dot. You feel like fucking heaven.”
Her slick heat clamps down around me, tight and perfect, like her body was made to take me and only me. My whole spine bows with the effort not to lose it in the first second.
She moans, and her hips rock up to meet me, her thighs trembling. The scent of her arousal hits me like a drug—rich, sweet, hers. I press my face to her neck and breathe her in like oxygen.
“You’re so fucking wet for me,” I growl against her throat. “You want this—me—don’t you?”
“Yes,” she gasps, voice shaking, desperate. “Camden… I need you.”
And that’s it. That’s the moment I give myself over. “Yes.”
“Camden,” she whispers, like she’s confessing something holy. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I lean down and take her nipple in my mouth again, suck gently, and when she whimpers, I pick up the pace with my fingers—curl them just right, how I know she needs it.
Her thighs fly open, then snap tight around my wrist, her hips lifting off the bed like she’s trying to climb me, ride the pressure deeper. She’s panting, fingers clawing through my hair, and then—
“Camden, oh my God—don’t stop, don’t you dare—” Her voice breaks on a sob as her whole body bucks up into my hand.
She’s coming apart right beneath me, frantic and helpless and so fucking beautiful, her mouth open in a wordless cry, trembling around my fingers like she doesn’t know how to hold it in anymore.
Her legs draw up, every muscle tensing. And then she shatters. And I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m addicted. Her hips jerk, spine bowing like a live wire’s been lit beneath her. Dot’s thighs trap my hand, and she sobs my name like it’s a prayer she’s never dared say aloud.
“Camden,” she cries, voice breaking as she arches off the bed, writhing. Her climax hits fast and hard, her body pulsing around my fingers. She’s wild, gorgeous, mine.
I don’t stop until she’s shaking.
Then I pull out slowly, carefully, and press my fingers to my lips. Her taste coats them—sweet, earthy, fucking addictive. “You taste amazing. I can’t wait to get my head between those pretty thighs.”
I glance up. Dot’s watching me, pupils blown, cheeks flushed. “That was…” she pants.
“Yeah.” I press a kiss to her stomach. “You’re incredible.”
I want to taste her. Fuck, I want it bad.
I want to spread her thighs and bury my face between them until she forgets her own name.
But not here. Not in this weird-ass room with taxidermy staring me down and my brain buzzing with twenty questions.
When I go down on her, I want it to be focused.
Obsessed. Better than anything she’s read about in her werewolf books.
So I stay where I am, fingers covered in her cum, and think about what just happened.
I settle beside her, fully clothed, jeans tight and unforgiving.
My cock’s a throbbing curse between my legs.
Denim never felt crueler. I want her hands, her mouth, her trust wrapped around me.
But I don’t move. I let the ache eat me alive.
She gave me her first, and I’ll be damned if I rush what comes next.
Dot curls into me, legs tangling, one hand finding mine beneath the covers.
“Do you want me to…?” she starts.
“I’m good.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “Another time, Dot. A better one.”
She doesn’t argue. Only presses closer, exhaling against my neck like she’s been holding her breath for years and finally lets it go.
Within minutes, she’s asleep—dead weight against my side, mouth parted, breathing steady.
I stare at the ceiling, every muscle drawn tight.
My jeans dig into me, a reminder of exactly what I’m not doing.
I want her hands on me. I want to know what it feels like when she touches back instead of only receiving.
But not like this—not in a room that smells like disinfectant and desperation, not on a night she trusted me with the first piece of herself she’s ever given anyone.
So I just lie there, tracing the rhythm of her breath, memorizing the sound she makes when she exhales against my throat.
Someday, I’ll tell her that I waited too—that I wanted our first time to be something she remembers as safe and bright, not rushed and forgettable. Tonight, all I can do is hold her and let the wanting eat through me.
When sleep finally takes me, it’s with her fingers tucked in mine and the promise of another time echoing like a vow.