I AWAKE ON MY SIDE with a pair of pale, narrow arms snaked around me, spooning me from behind. One arm is resting on my waist, the other tucked between me and the mattress. A smooth, sculpted leg is draped over my hip, but the grey sheet is hiding all the parts that I acquainted myself with so well last night. For someone who likes space, her subconscious evidently hasn’t received the memo.
The morning bathes us in a golden light. Dust motes float in the sunlight slicing through the blinds. A smile stretches across my face as I peek under the sheet to find myself charged and ready for round two. I glance at the clock and see it’s not even eight o’clock yet.
But I have a virgin…in my bed.
Last night with Indie was hot, hard, fast, and the perfect stepping-stone. Then, when she didn’t want to be too close in bed, a part of me was grateful. I’d somehow slipped into a different place with her and I needed a swift kick in the balls to be reminded this isn’t anything more than physical. This is sex. Virgin sex. With an expiration date.
I’m breaking all sorts of rules with Indie. In my entire life, I’ve never slept with a woman and not had sex. I’ve never done the pillow talk thing. Now I’ve done it three times with the same person. I guess I can blame it on the injury, but I’m doing all I can to not think of any of that.
Those four days after surgery, my mind was obsessed with football and what my future could look like. How everything for me could be changing soon. Tanner thought I was depressed, but I wasn’t. I was consumed. If I’m being completely truthful, there was a part of me that was consumed by Indie, too. I’ve never let anyone get inside my head so much. When I thought she was manipulating me, I flipped.
But having her here now, like this, naked and having no anxiety over getting caught, no request for space…it’s nice. She feels like the first real breath of life I’ve inhaled since I started playing football so many years ago.
My perfect, redheaded, innocent distraction who feels pretty fucking great pressed up against my backside.
I roll over so we’re facing each other, trying to be smooth and not ruffle the bed too much. She sighs with a little hitch in her voice and nuzzles into my chest, still completely out of it. It’s way too adorable, so I decide to sex up the moment.
I shift out of her grasp, propping myself on my hand to gaze down at her. Her face is relaxed as she moves into the fetal position, exhaling peacefully and tucking her hands under her chin. She’s completely on my side of the bed, and I didn’t have much room to begin with.
Biting my lip, I peel back the sheet and feast my eyes on her gloriously naked body. She’s curled into a ball so it’s mostly just creamy skin and curves; however, her sculpted legs tucked up into her evoke a flashback of them wrapped around my face last night. Plus, that arse…good God. I immediately fantasise about cupping it in the shower, in my kitchen, in the streets. Hell, anywhere she’d let me.
It’s all more than enough to get me excited.
I lower my head and blow a cool stream of air along her ribs. She squirms just as I place a soft kiss on her shoulder.
“Cam?” she whispers, her eyes fluttering open. She rolls onto her back, and her face brightens when she sees mine. Her makeup is smudged around her eyes and there are still hints of her red lipstick on her lips. She looks back over her shoulder and frowns at the rest of the empty bed. “I moved in my sleep, didn’t I?”
A laugh escapes me. “You could say that.”
“Did I wake you?” She looks insecure.
I want to wipe that emotion off her face, so I lean down and nuzzle her breasts. She cradles my head in her hands, and everything about her feels so good.
I turn and place a kiss to her palm. “Wake me any time you want.”
I shift myself over top of her, and she opens her legs to allow me room to tuck in. Her lip slips between her teeth as she watches me tilt my head and pull her soft nipple into my mouth. It hardens against my tongue. I look over to see the other one has also perked up and reach out to roll it between my fingers.
“Oh my God,” she groans when I roll my hips and press myself into her centre. Her body waves beneath me as her fingers slice through my hair, ruffling the length on top.
“Does that feel good?” I ask.
She nods eagerly.
I shift to the side of her and trail my fingertips around her nipple before cupping the heaviness of her breast in my hand. Her nipples are paler than any I’ve ever seen before, but perfect in that angelic way she has about her. “Does that feel good?”
She nods again, so I continue moving my fingers down inches of creamy white skin and stop right at the top of her thighs. I teasingly skirt my touch along the top of her slit. “Does that feel good?”
Her hips pump into me and she sighs heavily while nodding her silent answer. I begin to palm her, massaging her smooth swell without slipping inside her folds. She inhales sharply as her feet squirm against the sheets.
She wants more. No more questions necessary.
I slide two fingers inside of her and connect our lips just as she lets out a throaty moan. She grips my head, firmly kissing me back, making no mistake of her gratitude.
My dick throbs against her thigh, and the ache is almost unbearable as she reaches down and grips me in her hand. I need to take my time with her, prep her, prime her, tease her. But then she does that thing with my balls that makes every drop of willpower I have evaporate.
“You need to stop touching me, Indie,” I groan.
“Why?” she gasps.
“Because there are things I need to do to make sure you’re ready.”
She stills instantly now that she knows my full intentions. Swallowing and nodding, she moves her hands away from me to grip the sheets. I make my way down the bed and position my face between her thighs. I am more than pleased to find she’s already damp; however, I need to make absolutely certain she’s prepped. I press my tongue to her opening and she begins groaning with needy desire.
As my tongue begins moving, her hands find my hair and comb through it in perfect sync with my rhythm. After last night, I already know the places that get her there the fastest, so there will be a lot less teasing this morning.
I slide two fingers back in, massaging her from the inside, relishing in the feel of her on me. She responds loudly and that encourages me to push a third finger in. I pause my tongue assault to focus on widening my touch inside of her. Watching her face, I crook my three digits to hit that special spot that sends most women over the edge.
“Camden,” Indie gasps loudly. Her hands fly into her hair in uncontrolled raptures. “I’m going to—”
I bring my thumb up and press hard against the area I know will set her off.
She screams my name again as she reaches down and holds my hand in place like she’s terrified if I move it, it’ll all stop. My face breaks into a proud smile at her desperate reaction to my touch. It’s fucking hot.
When she stops gasping for breath, I move back up her body and whisper into her ear, “Do you want me to fuck you, Indie?”
She looks back at me, eyes wide, lips swollen, hair a mess. “Yes.”
My body goes into autopilot. I move off of her and grab a condom out of my nightstand. She sits up on her elbows and watches me roll the slick rubber on. Her body is squirming and needy with the aftershocks of her orgasm. When I finish, I look at her face and expect to see fear, anxiety, or nervousness.
But I don’t see any of those things.
She looks ready.
I move back between her legs, resting on my knees and stroking her thighs in comfort. I notice a small twinge in my knee when I bend it that much, so I shift into a better position. I’m not sure this is the kind of rehab my physical therapist had in mind for me, but I did ask about intercourse and he indicated it was a grey area.
I took that as a resounding go ahead.
Indie’s eyes are on me as I slide my fingers into her one more time to check and see that she’s ready. I position myself between her, rubbing my crown along her to wet the tip and make my entry as smooth as possible.
“Indie,” I say and her eyes tear away from the action and land on my face. She puzzles at the serious look I’m giving her. “There’s a fine, fine line between the moment it hurts and the moment it feels fucking brilliant.”
“Okay,” she says breathlessly.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, giving her one more chance to stop.
“Yes, Camden.”
I cup her face in my hand. “Stay with me, Specs, and I’ll get you there.”
I nudge in a couple of inches and her eyes fly wide. So wide that I slam my lips to hers and kiss her as hard as I can—anything to distract her from the ache she has to be feeling because, if it’s this tight around me, it has to be even tighter for her.
Her thighs squeeze around my ribs like a vise. Her hands flit nervously around my face, arms, and shoulders like she doesn’t know what to do. I thread our fingers and press them into the mattress by her head. When I pull back to look into her eyes, she gives me a small nod, silently telling me she’s okay. My gaze remains on her face as I push the rest of the way into her. Her wide eyes water and it makes me want to stop. It makes me want to pull out and apologise and kiss away the pain, but she keeps nodding and chewing her lip.
I still inside of her as she breathes heavily. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” she replies, squeezing my hands so tightly that I have no choice but to close my eyes from the onslaught of her grip.
“This is that moment, that fine line. It’ll start to get better,” I promise.
“Okay.” Her voice is gravelly, so I kiss her again, comforting her with my lips, moving down her jaw and neck and on to the swells of her breasts. I suck each nipple and give her a little more time to adjust to me being inside of her.
When I move back up to her mouth, I thrust my tongue between her lips and match the movement inside of her. She’s so snug, it’s overwhelming. And painful. But it’s also so great.
It’s like the reason you groan after taking a bite of a delicious dessert. Your taste buds can’t handle so much goodness without some outward reaction.
Her hands finally relax in mine so I let them go. They instantly begin roaming over my body more purposefully than before. She drags her nails down my back. I thrust myself in and out, her body swaying with mine as she welcomes me more with every thrust.
I need this experience to be better than great for her. It has to be perfect.
I continue to pump into her, more deliberately this time, watching every inch of me disappear inside of her over and over again. Every time I hit the deepest point, her cries grow louder and louder. She grabs my arse, cupping me against her, so I pull her hips up to meet my thrusts more deeply.
When I decide to reach down between our bodies and touch her clit with my fingers, she begins moaning.
Like, really moaning.
I sync my hand to slide on her nub with each plunge. Within seconds, I can feel her tighten around me.
“Camden!” She screams my name, her orgasm surprising us both. Her eyes find mine and they’re wide and wild, terrified and grateful. It’s an intense look—one that pierces right through me and breaks something deep inside of me.
Unable to withstand another minute of her expression, I crash my lips to hers, swirling a silent reassurance that she’s not alone. I’m right here with her and, even though this isn’t my first time, it’s still important. I still feel what’s happening.
And then…and then…when she clutches me to her…trembling and thanking me for giving this to her…
I’m drowning.
I’m drowning in deep, dark, delirious destiny. I’m in a place I never want to leave. A place I never want to say goodbye to. A place I never want to let go. Just sinking further and further into a world I’ve never known.
