Chapter 10 #2
She let out another frog-like whistle, and my eyes locked with Cam’s as the sound dragged on, impossibly high-pitched, so high-pitched I was concerned for the villa’s windows.
It went on, and on, and on, and on . . .
When it was finally over, after what felt like a millennium or so, even I exhaled a sigh of relief. But still the end was very far away.
‘Bring me your juicy ass, you naughty little kitten. I’m gonna spank it again.’
‘Meow! Meow! I’m a naughty kitten!’
‘Yes, you are!’
I leaned my head back against the cupboard wall, trying to tune out the relentless rhythm of hand meeting skin. Slap, slap, slappety-slap, slaaap!
Added to that the sound of her meowing like a cat and then occasionally hissing at him too.
With each slap, a new, enthusiastic description of what he was going to do to her was also announced.
And when he finally had her whistling like a tree frog once more, I was genuinely impressed at her lung capacity, not to mention what was clearly a very dexterous, subtle body on his part.
Something brushed against my legs, dragging me back to the cupboard.
I looked down, and it hit me once more that we were way, way too close.
Cam’s legs were still touching mine, and a burning sensation was spreading along my thighs.
And then, with one more tectonic-plate-shifting frog scream from the other side of the door, something else dawned on me.
The last time I’d seen Cam, I too had been having multiple orgasms. Although to be fair, I don’t think I’d been quite that loud.
Cam held up his hand, four fingers extended in silent commentary.
I stared at those fingers, willing my mind not to go there.
But oh, it did. A crystal-clear memory of his hands on my body flared to life.
I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately trying to derail those thoughts.
Moist gym socks.
The time I got food poisoning from an oyster.
Haemorrhoids.
Anything, anything to stop that particular memory from continuing.
My legs were starting to kill me. I was used to squeezing myself into tight spaces, but not usually for an hour. An actual hour!
‘Fifteen,’ Cam mouthed at the next loud whistle. Fifteen orgasms!
‘I’m gonna come, baby! I’m gonna come!’ Victor finally, finally announced.
Cam crossed his fingers dramatically, and for once, I agreed with him.
It felt like we both stopped breathing at the same time.
We leaned in slowly. Waiting. Waiting. And then, at last, Victor blew his load.
Instant relief washed over me, and I was about to relax when I heard it again . . . a loud whistle.
I froze. No. Please no.
I waited for the whistle to end, my nerves almost totally shattered, and then . . .
Silence.
Sweet, blissful silence.
Cam let out a sigh of relief, and I felt him relax and loosen his legs.
I tried to do the same, but was instantly seized by painful muscle cramps.
They’d been stuck in this position for so long that I was sure the blood supply to my lower extremities had been cut off.
Pains shot up my calves. Needles stabbed at my thighs.
I tried to wiggle my toes, but couldn’t feel them.
Were they still even there? I finally managed to move my legs and pull them apart, but when I did, I realised what I’d just done . . . Fuck.
I was wearing a dress. I never wore dresses.
Ever. And now? I’d practically spread my legs in Cam’s face.
I glanced at him, only to have my worst fears confirmed.
The dress had not gone unnoticed by him.
How could it? And he wasn’t even pretending to be polite about it either.
Oh no, his eyes had drifted down. And there it was – the slight red flush in his cheeks.
I knew that flush. Oh, I knew it. And I was not having it.
I nudged his shoulder with my foot, which was now awkwardly suspended in the air. ‘Stop it,’ I hissed at him.
His eyes snapped back to mine, and he graced me with the kind of sheepish look that made me want to punch him square in the mouth. God, I wanted to do a lot of things to Cam right now. None of them pleasant. But above all else, I wanted to know what the hell he was doing here.
Outside the cupboard, I heard Victor’s voice suggesting a shower, followed by a dip in the pool.
Yes! Please go to the pool.
There was some discussion about activities: golf for him, a trip to the spa for her.
Some snorkelling and an evening on the yacht.
I waited until the sound of running water finally reached us.
But the shower seemed to go on for ever too.
Were they trying to drain an entire reservoir?
Eventually – after what felt like another eternity – the water stopped.
By now, my legs were in an even worse position, pressed tightly together at the knees and propped awkwardly against the back of the cupboard.
I’d lost all feeling below the waist, and when I tried to wiggle my toes again, they felt like jelly.
Muscles I never knew existed ached, and everything tingled.
‘Where are the beach towels?’ called the yellow-toed mistress. Victor must have given her one, because soon I heard footsteps walk past the cupboard.
‘This place is gorgeous, by the way,’ she said.
‘Only the best for my kitten,’ he replied.
And then a door opened and closed, and Victor and his mistress were gone.
I hadn’t seen her in six years, but nothing had changed. She was still all fire and fury, and a few well-placed punches. And being pressed up against her in that small cupboard was pure torture.
God, I’d dreamt of her so many times, and now she was here. Real. Breathing. Furious as ever. I could feel the heat of her skin against mine and it made me ache in places that hadn’t ached in years, because she had been the only person who’d ever reached them.
She might hate me. She might want to murder me with her elbow right now. But I’d probably let her if it meant being this close to her after all this time apart.