Chapter 15 #3
“I’m practical.” He leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees, bringing himself closer but still not touching. “And a goalie, remember? My job is reading body language and knowing exactly where to put my hands.”
“Oh my God,” I mutter, but I laugh despite myself. “That might be the worst line I’ve ever heard.”
“Did it work, though?”
I hold my breath to quell the pain and look at him—really look at him. At the genuine concern beneath the cocky exterior and the way he’s giving me space to decide without pushing. “I can’t believe I’m considering this.”
“You can absolutely say no if you’re not comfortable.” He angles in another inch or two. “But I won’t lie and say that the thought of you riding my thigh hasn’t made me hard as fuck.”
I nibble on my lower lip, weighing the absurdity of this against the very real pain radiating through my lower body.
The ibuprofen hasn’t kicked in yet and won’t for at least another twenty minutes.
But since we made out at the bar, I haven’t been able to think about anything but him. Will this only make it worse?
“If this is weird after—”
“It won’t be,” he interrupts, confident as ever. “And if it is, we’ll deal with it. But right now, you’re in pain, and I’m offering a solution.” His lips quirk. “A very enjoyable solution for both of us.”
“I don’t know what you’re getting out of this,” I grumble, scooting closer to him.
His eyes flash with heat, but his movements are slow and controlled as he shifts back and leans against the cushions.
He spreads his thighs, then tugs me onto his lap, guiding my legs to either side of his.
The press of muscle against my core is immediate, hot and solid through my sweats.
A small, involuntary sigh escapes me, but I’m too lost in this moment to be embarrassed.
Cameron chuckles low, his cock twitching beneath the thick fabric of his pants.
This time I successfully swallow the groan working its way up my throat. He may not be tattooed down there, but he’s certainly well-endowed.
He rests his big hands on my hips, holding me in place—not moving higher or lower, just there. Before I can second-guess this probably idiotic, definitely stupid plan, he hovers closer and licks a path from the crook of my neck to just below my ear.
A zap of electricity courses through me, and I gasp, instinctively bringing my hands to his shoulders to steady myself.
Talk about zero to one hundred.
“You good?” he asks against my skin, breath warm.
“Yeah,” I answer, my voice reedy.
He does it again, this time adding the scrape of teeth, and slips a hand under my shirt, his callused fingers drawing slow circles against my hip bone. The simple touch shouldn’t feel as good as it does, yet it sends tendrils of need through me.
“Move your hips,” he murmurs, his deep timbre uncharacteristically soft.
Tentatively, I roll my hips, and the friction sends sparks racing up my spine.
“That feel good?” he asks, his voice strained.
“Mm-hmm.” I let out a breathy moan and do it again. “Very good.”
“Then keep going.”
His grip on my hips tightens as he guides me into a rhythm, showing me the pace but not forcing it.
With each rocking of my pelvis, I move with more confidence, the rhythm building naturally, and in a matter of seconds, I’m practically purring like a cat.
Head lowered, he focuses on where our bodies meet, and a low groan emanates from his throat. “Fuck, you look sexy like this, sweetheart.”
The compliment causes that warmth building inside me to burn. I was only half kidding about my praise kink. I grind down harder, whimpering. Cameron inches his calloused palm up my waist, his fingers brushing against my breast, and I arch into the touch.
“No bra?” he asks with a throaty chuckle.
“Fuck the patriarchy.” I drop my head back and moan. Eyes closed, I lose myself in the feel of him under me and the warmth spiraling in my belly. “More.”
He cups my breast, then pinches my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The combined stimulation drives me to move my hips faster, gripping the sturdy angles of his shoulders for leverage. I study his bicep, watching the muscles flex as he presses me harder against his leg.
“That’s right, sunshine.” He looks at me through half-lidded forest green eyes. “You look so pretty using me to get yourself off.”
With his other hand, he pulls my shirt up, and then his mouth is on my nipple, his lips closing around it.
I gasp, my rhythm faltering.
“Don’t stop moving,” he commands against my skin. “Keep going.”
Like he’s put me under a spell, I don’t even feel the urge to argue before I pick up my pace.
With a groan, he sucks on my nipple again, his tongue swirling against the sensitive tip. The vibration rumbling through him adds another layer of sensation.
My toes curl as I get closer to the orgasm building deep in my core.
“Cameron,” I whimper, not even sure what I’m asking for.
“I know, sweetheart.” His voice is soothing, coaxing. “Come for me.”
It builds up and up and up, the waves cresting as my thighs clench around his. Back arching, I throw my head back, a broken cry escaping my lips.
Cameron hums his approval deep in his throat, one hand leaving my breast to slip between us. He presses his thumb against my clit through my pants, drawing out my orgasm, making my thighs tremble violently.
“That’s it. Ride it out. Good girl.”
When my energy is completely depleted, I collapse against his chest, breathing hard, my face buried in his neck.
He shudders beneath me, like he’s the one who got off instead of me.
Reality is there, knocking on the door, threatening to creep back in, but I’m too blissed out and cramp-free to care.
He trails a hand up and down my back, the steady motion relaxing my body even further.
“Feel better?” he asks, his lips brushing the top of my head.
“Mm-hmm,” I murmur.
“Told you so.”
I’m too content to muster up a fuck you. So I simply enjoy the giant, tattooed heating pad wrapped around me, reveling in the cramp-free moment for as long it lasts.
His chuckle vibrates through his chest. “You gonna fall asleep on me?”
“Mm-hmm,” I repeat, my eyelids feeling heavier by the second. The last thought I have before drifting into a peaceful nap is that my gyno is going to be thrilled that, after years of complaining about my period cramps, I’ve found a solution in Cameron Davies’s thigh.