31. Can something be the same but also different? #2
When he slides the thin strap of my camisole off my shoulder, I stop caring about powdered cheese entirely. While Forrest is distracted with revealing more of my skin, I squeeze his hips tightly between my knees and shove hard at his chest, flipping us before he can tense up.
The look of surprised delight on his face when he stares up at me gives me a boost of confidence.
When we were teenagers, I let Forrest take control, trusting his experience and the way he made both of us feel good.
But he did say I should tell him what I want, and I want to try something different.
He raises an eyebrow at me, and his smirk tells me he’s intrigued. I roll my hips against his length to test the waters. The few flimsy layers of cloth we’re wearing do nothing to hide how turned on I am.
Will he like me like this?
The way Forrest hisses and presses his head back into the pillows tells me he doesn’t mind the switch at all.
If I had any doubt, Forrest lifting his hips and pressing his cock against me washes that away.
He feels hot, thick, and hard, and I briefly wonder if I could come like this, with him looking at me like that and perfect friction between my thighs.
I grind down against him and—oh. I definitely could.
I feel Forrest pulse beneath me, and I know he wants this as badly as I do.
His hands slide from my thighs to my waist, a map of veins crisscrossing under the skin of his forearms. He plays with the hem of my sleep shirt before pushing it further up my torso.
His hand splays over the tree on my side, gently squeezing me there, and I pull my top over my head.
“Perfect,” Forrest whispers, his eyes devouring every inch of me, and I’m not sure he realizes he’s said it out loud.
This time, when I rock my hips forward, I cup my breasts, kneading the soft flesh and pinching my nipples. The sensation hits me so suddenly that my head falls back on its own.
“Fuck, Cam,” Forrest says as he sits up, shifting me down his lap as he does.
When he reaches for me, I arch further back, bracing my hands on my calves. Forrest immediately accepts the silent invitation, bending over me and pulling one of my nipples into his mouth. His strong hand finds my other breast, teasing its nipple with soft strokes and sharp pulls.
Forrest is committed, lavishing one side with his tongue and teeth before switching to the other, and I swear he’s memorizing every reaction I have, repeating things to pull them from me again.
I guess that’s what I get for having such a studious man in my bed.
I start shifting against him again, needing relief for the pressure between my legs.
“As much”—Forrest growls against my chest—“as much as I’m enjoying your eagerness, I’m going to need you to stop”—one hand falls to my hip and squeezes, halting the grinding I can’t help—“that if you don’t want me to come in my boxers again.
And I’d really like the next time I come to be when you’re riding my cock. ”
Fuck, I want that too. With a whimper, I give him one last stroke of my core along his length, slow and deliberate before I drag myself backward, a sigh escaping my lips at the loss of Forrest’s touch. To my credit, he looks equally crushed.
But I stand and push my shorts and underwear to my ankles in one swift move. When I straighten back up, I find Forrest sitting up on his knees at the bottom of the bed, like I was simply too far away for him to bear.
Forrest reaches a hand toward me, urging me back to him, but I shake my head. Obediently, he stays put while I drag my fingers over his ribs, touching his tattoo before continuing to the waistband of his boxers, where I scratch my nails against his skin when I slip my fingers under the fabric.
I look to him for permission, but before I can ask, he’s nodding his head.
“I’m yours, Camilla,” he says, standing so I can explore him at my leisure.
I briefly stretch up onto my toes to kiss Forrest before sliding down his body, taking his boxers with me.
I push him to sit back against the edge of the bed and settle myself between his knees, wrapping my fingers around the base of him, standing thick and hard before me.
Feeling Forrest’s eyes on me, I look up through my eyelashes at him when my tongue touches the tip of his cock.
Forrest sucks in air between his teeth, and I see his fingers twitch out of the corner of my eye.
“Do you want to fuck my mouth, Forrest?” I ask, pulling my hand away from him to spit in my palm before I begin stroking him, squeezing and twisting my hand along his length.
“More than you know,” Forrest confesses, and I realize I can barely see any green because his pupils are blown wide.
I grin at the admission.
“So do it,” I dare him. I tip my head back, opening my mouth and laying my tongue flat for him.
“You can be such a brat,” Forrest says, reaching back to grip my hair without hesitation.
Yes, I fucking can.
His cock bobs against my tongue when he pulls me forward, and I eagerly suck him into my mouth, sealing my lips around the head and hollowing my cheeks, sliding forward until he’s right to the back of my throat and I choke around his length.
“Jesus fuck,” Forrest groans as he tugs at my hair to yank me off him.
But I wrap my hands around his cock, holding him there as long as I can before pulling back for a gasp of air, messy, wet, and ready for more. And then Forrest does as I asked, driving his hips forward and thoroughly fucking my mouth.
“Cam, I—” Forrest jerks my head back with a hand in my hair, and another on my jaw, thumb toying with holding my throat.
“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he growls, his eyes alight.
I wipe saliva from the corner of my mouth with my thumb as I grin victoriously at him.
“Are you complaining?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
“Not for a second,” Forrest says before lurching forward to wrap an arm around my waist. Then he drags himself back on the bed, taking me with him and flinging his glasses onto the pillow beside us.
“I told you I want to come inside you while you’re riding my cock,” he reminds me when we settle, our noses a centimeter apart.
When I sit up this time, the length of Forrest’s cock slips between my folds, and we both moan at the bare contact.
“When were you last tested?” I ask, already coating him with my wetness as I slide along him.
“I feel like we probably should have covered this earlier,” he says with a smirk while I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, probably,” I agree, rolling my hips again.
“About a month ago. After the last time I was with somebody. I’m all good,” Forrest says. “You?”
“Shit, also after the last time I was with somebody, but it was longer than that for damn sure—about six months ago. I’m also good. I also have an IUD,” I say.
“Do you want to keep going like this?” Forrest asks. This would be something else new for us.
“Very badly,” I groan. I want him now.
“Cam. I want to be sure,” Forrest scolds, but he’s already lifting me up. He stops when the head of his cock is tapping at my entrance.
“Yes, Forrest, yes,” I say, exasperated.
And he pulls me down onto him.
I cry out—not from pain, but from absolute fullness as I lift and settle onto him. Forrest’s hands are strong around my hips, balancing me as I rise up and press down around him, rocking forward to grind my clit against him.
My hands go back to my breasts when Forrest drives his hips up, reaching a spot within me that I wasn’t sure existed, and I see spots.
“Forrest, yes,” I hiss, squeezing myself around him until he swears.
Then he sits up again, shoving a thumb between us to roll circles over my clit as we connect, again and again. When Forrest leans forward and bites my shoulder, the spots become sparks.
I’m going to fucking come, just like this.
“That’s it,” Forrest praises as his arm bands around my back, his other hand still rolling against my clit.
And when I combust, digging my nails into Forrest’s sides and biting my lip so hard I’m surprised I don’t draw blood, he keeps filling me over and over.
Forrest speeds up, drawing out my orgasm until I feel him tensing under me, his movements becoming more erratic, and I brace my hands on his shoulders when both of his hands find my hips, slamming me down onto him, our skin slick with sweat.
“Fuck, Cam. Fuck,” he chants, and he spills inside me.
I can already feel a welcome soreness in my body when Forrest helps lift me off him, laying me out like I’m a goddess for him to worship.
“You are fucking incredible, Camilla Rose,” he says before kissing me.
“Just for you,” I say, feeling exhaustion pull at me. I drag myself up to run to the bathroom quickly. “Stay right there,” I instruct.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “I promise.”
And Forrest Dane never breaks a promise.