21. Chapter Twenty-one #2
Camille returns moments later with a fresh, sugary churro in hand, eyes dancing mischievously. “Want a bite?”
My gaze slides over her, lingering meaningfully on her lips. “Always.”
She rolls her eyes again but steps closer, holding the churro to my mouth. I take a slow, deliberate bite, eyes locked onto hers the entire time, tasting sugar, cinnamon, and her lingering heat.
She blushes slightly, pulling the churro away and pointedly taking a huge bite herself. “That’s enough for you.”
Fucking typical.
We drift through the carnival again, the family shifting around us like a constellation—Diego murmuring something to Rosa that makes her laugh softly, the twins shamelessly stealing sips from their boyfriends’ drinks, and Lucia racing recklessly ahead toward some gravity ride I wouldn’t let Camille near if my life depended on it.
Camille’s eyes light up, sugary cravings pulling her toward a stand glowing beneath the Ferris wheel. She emerges moments later clutching a rainbow popsicle, lips curving with childish delight as she brings it slowly to her mouth.
My entire body goes rigid.
Fuck me.
She takes a lazy, lingering lick, completely oblivious to the fire she’s igniting in my veins.
The damn thing glistens wetly beneath the neon lights, her tongue tracing along its length again in a casual, mindless tease.
She’s not even trying to provoke me, and somehow that makes the effect infinitely worse.
My jaw tightens. My pulse spikes.
She catches my gaze, eyes glittering innocently beneath those thick lashes. “You okay?” she asks sweetly.
“No,” I growl, barely containing the urge to snatch that fucking popsicle from her hand and replace it with something far filthier.
She grins slowly, wickedness dancing in her eyes as the Ferris wheel rises behind her, lit brilliantly in gold and silver.
“I want to go up,” she says, tilting her head, wide-eyed and deceptively innocent. “Come with me.”
I stare at the giant metal monstrosity looming dangerously above us. “It’s a death trap held together by rust and spit.”
She smirks, slow and devastating, then takes another long, sultry lick of her popsicle, her tongue tracing the length like she has no idea what she’s doing to me, and every goddamn idea all at once.
“So is your soul,” she murmurs, lips sticky and glistening as she steps closer.
“Camille…” I grit her name through clenched teeth, trying and failing to remember why I ever thought I had control.
She leans in, voice a whisper meant to ruin me." Take me up,” she purrs, dragging her tongue up the length of the melting rainbow. Then she lifts it to my mouth and licks the other side, eyes locked on mine, “And you can put it anywhere… daddy .”
My control snaps like a fucking tripwire.
“Get in the cart,” I growl, already reaching for her waist.
She grins like the the glorious little nympho she is, victorious and glowing.
Camille
I grin, smug and breathless, and spin toward the Ferris wheel like I haven’t just shattered him in front of half his family.
Fucking worth it.
The second he snarls out “Get in the cart,” my entire body lights up like I’ve just mainlined pure adrenaline. My skin buzzes, my thighs clench, and that deep, molten ache that only Kane Rivera knows how to ignite pulses hot between my legs.
God, he looks like he wants to murder someone. Or fuck me stupid. Maybe both.
I flash him a wicked grin, tossing the half-melted popsicle into the trash with a flick of my wrist. “You sure you can handle being that high off the ground, grandpa?” I chirp, already walking toward the Ferris wheel.
He doesn’t answer.
He just follows.
Stalking behind me like something dangerous off a leash.
The ride operator barely makes eye contact before waving us into the cart, and the moment the door latches, I know I’ve pushed him too far.
Perfect.
We start to rise, and the lights of the carnival smear around us in dizzying color. But all I can focus on is the burn of Kane’s stare. His hands rest on his knees, clenched tight, the muscles in his jaw ticking.
I sit across from him like a spoiled brat with a secret, crossing my legs slow and dramatic, letting my dress ride up my thighs just enough to bait him further.
“You’re quiet,” I murmur, dragging a finger along the condensation of the glass window. “I thought winning a stuffed bear and threatening a churro stand would’ve lightened the mood.”
He lifts his eyes, black fire, hot enough to scorch me.
“You’re not gonna make it off this ride in one piece, Camille.”
A delicious shiver shoots down my spine. I smile sweetly, feigning innocence. “Then I guess you better break me in before we hit the ground.”
His eyes flash.
And I know exactly what’s coming.
He moves.
Fast.
One second I’m smirking like a smug little brat, the next his hand is in my hair, tight at the nape of my neck—and I’m being yanked across the tiny cart with zero finesse and zero warning.
My breath snags, caught between panic and arousal.
Then his mouth crashes into mine.
It’s not a kiss. It's an attack. Wet, hot, open-mouthed destruction. His tongue claims everything, like he’s trying to burn his name into the roof of my mouth. Our teeth clash, lips bruising, breath heavy and tangled and wild.
I moan against him, clawing at his shirt as he pulls me deeper into his lap like he can’t get me close enough, like we’re not even in public, like the world below us doesn’t exist.
Only Kane does.
Only this.
He breaks the kiss with a sharp tug of my hair, forcing my gaze to his. His eyes are feral. Ravenous.
“On your knees.”
My stomach flips violently.
I drop like I’m meant to be there.
Dress pooling around my thighs, heart pounding against my ribs, fingers clutching the seat beside his leg as I kneel in the swaying cart. Carnival lights bleed through the glass, streaking my flushed skin in gold and red.
Kane tilts my chin up with two fingers, eyes locked on mine, as he expertly unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pulls himself out.
“Say 'ahh,' Princesa.” His voice is low. Rough. Dangerous.
My lips part.
And I obey, because my current mind frame is all slut.
"ahh…"
His smile is dangerous. Filthy. Perfect. "Such a good girl," he praises, thumb sliding deeper, pressing my mouth wider. ...“Now let’s put that pretty mouth to better use than sucking a popsicle,” he rasps, voice dripping dark, filthy promises.
He fists his cock, thick and hard, glistening obscenely at the tip as he trails it across my lips, smearing his desire like a brand. Teasing. Mocking. Claiming.
My breath shatters into sharp little pants, heart slamming violently behind my ribs, but I obediently part my lips wider, tongue slipping out to taste him instinctively.
“Eyes on me,” he commands roughly, voice edged with a cruel smirk.
I meet his gaze.
Eyes wide. Lips trembling. Mouth open and desperate.
He slides in without mercy, slow, thick, relentless, stretching my lips and hitting the back of my throat in one filthy, possessive thrust. Tears sting instantly, throat convulsing around him as I jerk reflexively back, overwhelmed.
But his hand fists brutally in my hair, yanking me forward until my nose brushes his skin, until I choke beautifully around him.
A dark, wicked chuckle escapes him. His eyes, hooded and blazing, look down at me with savage delight.
“Oh no, Munequita,” he murmurs, voice dripping with sinister affection. “You wanted to play dirty games, Camille. Now be a good little slut and finish what you started.”
His cock throbs against my tongue, and I swear I feel him twitch when I gag again, helpless and messy. He holds me there, buried deep, letting me choke on it—on him—until spit drips from the corner of my mouth and tears streak down my cheeks and his smile is pure sin.
“There she is,” he growls, voice guttural, hips rolling slow and brutal as he starts to fuck my mouth like it’s his personal toy. “Look at you…on your knees, drooling all over yourself…mouth made to suck my cock, ”
He pulls back just enough to let me breathe, the head of his cock resting heavy on my tongue, strings of spit and precum connecting us in a wet, obscene line.
“Lick it...”
I do, reflexively, desperately, moaning around him like a starved girl licking the edge of madness.
His hand flexes in my hair again, dragging me back down hard. "I know that throat can take me in deeper…"
His voice is a velvet-wrapped threat as he forces me all the way down, plunging deeper until my nose presses into the rough fabric of his jeans, his scent intoxicating and overwhelming.
My throat constricts violently around his length, gagging, throat spasming in raw protest but Kane just groans louder, savoring my struggle, savoring the way I fight and lose, again and again.
“Fuck yes,” he snarls, hips jerking mercilessly, pushing himself deeper until my nose brushes the coarse dark hairs at his base. “That’s it, Camille. Take every inch. I want to feel your pretty little throat tighten around me.”
I gag, eyes flooding with tears that streak down my flushed cheeks like rivers of sin.
He holds me firmly, forcing me to stay exactly where he wants me, trapped, powerless, choking beautifully on his cock, the taste of him floods my senses, salt and dominance and desperation coating my tongue, until drool pools on my chin and drips down onto my trembling thighs.
"Choke on it, Princesa."
He thrusts back into my mouth hard and relentless, fucking into my throat with savage strokes, taking everything I have and demanding more. My nails dig helplessly into his thighs as he uses my mouth mercilessly, cock swelling impossibly thick, throbbing against my tongue.
“Yeah…just like that…" he growls. "Take me all the way in, show me how good you can be.”
My head spins as I gag again, throat fluttering wildly around him, tears soaking my cheeks.
I moan around him again, the vibration wrenching another low growl from his chest, fingers tightening painfully in my hair.