Chapter 15
Des gestured for her to move to the bedroom down the hall while he cleared the dessert plates from the table.
Cami did as he suggested, figuring she may be able to get an idea of what he had planned in the few moments alone in the room.
But what she found caused her to step back and raise her hand to cover a gasp.
The bed wasn’t strewn with dildos. Not that she’d expect a display so tactless from Des, but she wouldn’t have been shocked to see an extensive toy selection for tonight laid out neatly at the end of the bed.
That was the point, after all; to stock her toolbox so she could ultimately do this on her own.
But instead, the little case he’d pulled them from last time was waiting patiently on the floor near the nightstand.
The bed was made up, but still looked inviting, just like last time.
The lights were dimmed again, but this time the top of the cherry wood dresser and matching nightstands were strewn with lit purple candles, giving off a muted, lavender scent.
“I figured if you liked them, they had to be top quality.” He appeared in the door frame behind her, smiling gently. He scooted around her into the room, just close enough that he could have nudged her with a hand on the small of her back, had he chosen to.
The sweetness of the gesture struck her silent.
He wouldn’t lay a hand on her back to scooch her out of his way, but he’d buy a set of scented candles just to add to the atmosphere of their illicit rendezvous.
To make her more comfortable, maybe. Her throat thickened with emotion. She swallowed against it.
“How adventurous do you want to get here?” He picked up the mini duffle. He shot a glance at her as he set it on the foot of the bed, his smile twitching and his gray eyes glittering with amusement.
He hadn’t phrased it like a challenge, but her chin ticked up, and she crossed her arms under her breasts. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Well...” He rubbed his jaw with the side of his hand.
“We’ve tried a few of the different vibrators, so I thought you might want to test out a plug.
But I know that’s not everyone’s thing, so we can stick to other stuff if it makes you uncomfortable.
” He was watching her carefully, studying her for signs of squeamishness.
“I work at a sex toy store,” she deadpanned. “Butt plugs don’t make me uncomfortable.”
“Right.” He looked like he was struggling to contain a grin. “You want to try one then?”
“Sure.” She met his gaze evenly, trying to squelch the inexplicable feeling of defensiveness rising in her.
It didn’t make sense, and was stupid on top of that.
But he’d probably dated a slew of rich women more his style, on a more even footing, who’d tried far more in bed than her, and could orgasm if he looked at them right.
She bet they enjoyed butt stuff. It was a little nerve-wracking, but she’d look pedestrian if she said no.
“If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you to stop. ”
He nodded and withdrew a bottle of lube from the pocket of the bag, which he tossed up and caught. “Sounds good. We’ll start small. Why don’t you undress and we’ll get warmed up?”
The phrasing sent a zap of anticipation between her legs, like her body hoped he might be the one to warm her up himself, all hands and mouth and nothing artificial. But while she unbuttoned her shorts and stripped off her tee, he pulled a new goodie from his bag of tricks.
“I read this one needs lube for the proper feel.”
Her eyebrow quirked in interest as she took in the toy he held.
It was another they sold at the store, and though she’d studied it a few times, and familiarized herself with the instruction manual, she’d never quite been able to fathom how it worked.
It was called the Lulu, and looked sort of like a lopsided donut, wrapped around the outside edges in silicone.
It was another vibrator, but this one was intended to simulate the feel of oral sex, featuring little beads inside that made circular licking motions like a tongue.
It wasn’t the most expensive thing in the store, but it was up there.
“You’ll have to let me know if it feels like the real thing,” he said, twirling it around in his hand. Then he jerked his chin toward the bed. “Hop on.”
She shucked her underwear, only feeling mildly less self-conscious than she had last time about being the only nude one.
This time, he hadn’t even removed his shirt.
Maybe that was safer, though. Not seeing all that smooth, warm brown skin would make it easier to avoid touching him.
Still, she left her bra on again, in spite of the lust-fogged memory she had of begging him to take it off her.
She crawled to the middle of his bed and settled in, laying back on his lush pillows.
When he smeared cool silicone on the inside of her knee, no vibrations yet, she spread her legs.
She closed her eyes, the warm, relaxing scent of lavender washing over her.
The mattress shifted under his weight, a tickle rose as if he slid his hot gaze over her skin.
He maneuvered between her knees, and the denim on his hip brushed her.
The gentle friction ignited a tangle of sensation and need in her.
She was an idiot. How could she keep this non-committal when just the feel of his jeans on her leg set her aflame?
He dragged the Lulu along the curve of her hip, then across her abdomen. When he slid it toward her clit, he turned it on.
It was a gentle, rotating vibration, and the closer he got to her clit, the more anticipatory tension clenched her muscles.
He skimmed the vibe down the lip of her vulva on one side, and up the other.
Under the muted buzz of the vibrator, he popped the bottle of the lube with the telltale snick of the cap. Her hips shifted with impatience.
“This might be a little cold,” he warned, but his voice was pure heat.
As a glob of cool gel hit the hood of her clitoris, she gasped.
Then, the little silicone mouth of the Lulu encircled her.
Beads swirled around her clit, then stroked down.
She clutched at the bedspread, grabbing fistfuls of it instead of reaching for Des as she ached to.
The orgasm started to build in her belly.
The Lulu slid against her needy skin, slick with her wetness and now-warmed lube.
He seemed to know exactly where to press it and when to ease off in order to heighten her anticipation, but unlike the last time they’d tried this, he wasn’t staving off her orgasm.
He wasn’t trying to build it like he had before.
“What’s the verdict, Camille?” His voice was low, stretched tight like the T-shirt over his incredible shoulders. “Does it feel like the real thing? Does it feel like I’m licking you?”
He dragged the Lulu down to her entrance then eased it back up for one long lick.
“Yes,” she panted, and her first orgasm of the night slammed into her like a linebacker.
It paralyzed her, save the gasping moan that escaped her.
As soon as he realized what was happening, he refocused his efforts, pressing the vibe into her clit, hard.
The unrelenting sensation drew out the waves of pleasure, and he didn’t draw back until the last quivers of aftershock had faded.
She didn’t know how long she lay there, trying to recover, before she could see again.
He didn’t move from between her knees. When she returned to her senses, he was sitting on his haunches, his head cocked, studying her.
He was probably trying to figure out if she was in a coma. When she blinked at him, he smiled.
“You good?” Amusement shaded his tone, and she couldn’t help but grin. She grabbed one of his pillows and pulled it over her face.
“No!” she insisted through the fabric and stuffing. “I died. You killed me.”
He nudged the edge of the pillow so he could hear her better, but didn’t try to pull it away from her. “You don’t look dead to me.”
“Oh, yeah?” She lifted the pillow to watch the easy fondness sparkle in his eyes. “What do I look like?”
“Like a woman who just came so hard her brain melted.” Satisfaction oozed from him, in spite of the ridge of his cock straining against his zipper.
Had he ever come that hard? What did he look like when he did? She wanted to know so badly she burned with it.
“Brain melting isn’t fatal?” she teased.
He twisted toward the foot of the bed, staying where he was but craning his body to rifle into the mini duffle once more. “I dropped out of med school before I got to the class on brain melting.”
“What a shame. You could have been some poor unsuspecting nurse’s fantasy.”
He faced her, now holding in his left hand the graduated butt plug she’d seen last time.
“You’re right. I don’t know how I’ll get over it.” He picked up the bottle of lube from where it had fallen during the turn with the Lulu. He thumbed the cap, ready to pop it open. “You still down for this?”
“I’m down,” she promised.
He reached toward her with one hand, and she thought, for one wild moment, that he was reaching for her.
That he would take her by the shoulder, or press his palm against the sweat-damp curve of her neck.
But instead, he grabbed one of the pillows to her right and pulled it.
“Lift,” he instructed, and when she picked her hips up off the bed, he slid the pillow underneath her butt and the small of her back.
When she settled, she was tilted up toward him, but the sensation was comfortable overall, though it was disconcerting, and a little embarrassing, to be even more on display than she had been.