I’ve never felt sexy giving a blow job. It must be because I wasn’t blowing the right person because right now, with my mouth hovering over the head of Camden’s cock, I’ve never felt hotter.
My tongue glides around his swollen head. Air hisses through his teeth, his thighs flexing underneath my grip. I let my fingers drift upward, needing to feel his abs. I haven’t seen them, but everything about his body is perfect. There’s no doubt in my mind that his abdomen is the same.
I let my tongue memorize the feeling of his thick, heavy cock. I lick along the vein that runs from the base to the tip, reveling in the groans that fall from his mouth with every flick. Camden doesn’t seem to like to show emotions—I can relate—but it’s different in private, with my lips parting to take him down my throat. To the outside world, he’s closed off. Right now, his body tells me everything I want to know and more.
I’m enjoying teasing him, punishing him for his hot and cold tendencies. He left me almost naked, pressed up against a window, when he ran away. I’d felt vulnerable and exposed, ruining the euphoria running through my body from the orgasm he pulled from me.
Maybe I want to give him a little payback.
I pull my mouth away, loving the angry set of his jaw when I let go of his cock. It stands at attention, beckoning for me to return to what I was doing. I don’t. Instead, both my hands travel underneath the starched fabric of his shirt.
“Off,” I demand, trying to pull at the buttons. My fingers don’t work quickly enough, so I opt to tug on them instead.
Camden’s hand covers mine, his palm sliding over my fingers. “You don’t tell me what to do.”
I bite my lip, wondering if I should talk back or not. “I want to see you.”
He squeezes my hand, the gesture seeming so gentle compared to everything else. I sit back on my heels, watching eagerly when his fingers begin to undo the buttons on his chest. He manages to get two of them undone before he angrily sighs. “Fuck it,” he growls, grabbing both sides of the shirt and ripping it open.
Buttons ping against the floor as they fall in various directions. I laugh, the sound getting caught in my throat when he looks down at me with fire in his eyes. I’m swept up in the way he looks at me, but from the corner of my eye, I notice him pulling his arms from each side of the shirt.
I don’t know where to look. I love the heat in his eyes, the way he watches me like a man watching his last meal. But I want to see his body. I want to commit every single muscle to memory to remember this by. Even though I haven’t looked yet, I know the slopes and planes of his muscles are something artists like him could only dream of recreating.
“Look at me.” His fingers wrap around my chin. They’re firm, nudging my head upward to force me to look at him.
My chest hitches. Everything about him is better than I could’ve imagined. He’s cut perfectly. His muscles are so proportionate, as if his perfectionist personality ensures that every muscle is worked evenly.
His fingers dig into the skin at my jaw, pressing so deeply into my thrumming pulse that he must feel how seeing his taut, rigid muscles affects me.
“You do something to me when you look at me like that,” he groans.
I allow my fingers to trace the ripple of his abs. They’re so defined. I could’ve never expected what he was hiding underneath his expensive suits and tailored shirts. I don’t know why he bothers with wearing clothes. He could stand in the middle of his art gallery just like this, and every person around would stare at him as if he were the art himself.
“I don’t know any other way to look at you,” I confess. The list of men I’ve been with isn’t long, but none of them looked the way he does. Staring at him, I can’t remember what they looked like at all. The only thing taking up space in my mind is him.
Camden grabs me by the chin once again. This time, it’s gentle. His thumb caresses my jaw, his eyes roaming over my face. He focuses on my lips. His calloused thumb scrapes my cheek as he runs it over my skin before he places it on my cupid’s bow. My lips part as if on command. He smirks, only one side of his lips lifting. His thumb travels slowly, tugging on my bottom lip. My lips feel raw from the ferocity with which he kissed me.
“Your two minutes are running low.”
I smile, shifting on my knees to ease the ache from my throbbing clit. He’s already paid it attention, but it demands more. My thighs rub together as I attempt to get friction and some kind of relief.
I allow myself one more second of looking into his eyes, of seeing the dark storms of his lust-filled gaze, before I focus on his cock again. My thumb runs through the bead of precum at his tip.
His body jolts with the touch, making me smirk in satisfaction. He’s doing it again. Making me feel sexy before I even take him in my mouth.
Using one hand, I push my hair from my shoulders so the pieces fall down my back. I don’t want anything in the way when I fully take him. He grunts in approval, his hands sweeping the hair from my back and twisting it around his palm.
I love the feeling of the hair at my roots getting tugged. I like knowing that, at least for right now, he’s giving me the control, but with one simple pull, he’d be the one with it.
I wrap my fingers around the base of him. His cock is so large that the tips of my fingers don’t even begin to touch. His grip tightens, his short nails raking against my scalp when I use my other hand to cup his balls.
I’m going to have so much fun with this.
Leaning in, I coax his head into my mouth. I speak around his girth, my words muffled due to the tip of him pressing against my tongue. “Remember what I said about swallowing,” I tease.
“Fuck,” he growls, thrusting his hips so he hits the back of my throat. I moan at his reaction. It’s so primal and savage, turning me on as a flush creeps along my skin.
I open my mouth as wide as I can. My cheeks burn from trying to take him, to try and open wide enough to accommodate all of him. He fucks my face savagely. His fingers tangle in my hair to keep my head steady as he pumps in and out, taking everything he wants from me.
Trying to bring him as much pleasure as possible, I keep one hand locked on the end of his shaft, the part that can’t fit in my mouth, as the other holds on tight to his balls.
“God.” He moans, his pace slowing as he rolls his body into mine. It’s sexy as hell. Now I want to feel his hips the same way when he fucks my pussy instead of my throat. “Just like that.” His grip tightens, and I don’t know if tears threaten to spill from my lids because of the way he yanks my hair or if it’s because the tip of him hits the back of my throat with a punishing force.
I blink, letting the tears fall down my cheeks to try and ease the burn from my eyes. I look upward, finding him watching me. He smiles approvingly, using his free hand to reach down and cup my cheek. It’s so much more tender than everything else he’s doing to me.
“I’m going to keep fucking your face until you gag on me. I won’t stop until I’ve taken your body to its limit.” He slams into my throat, proving his point. “You better open that throat, baby.”
My eyes flutter shut because everything is too much. My pussy throbs so hard it’s painful. I want to reach down and play with my clit, push a finger inside me, something to help ease the intense ache between my legs. I know my jeans are in the way, and there’s no way I can slip a hand in without him noticing.
For some reason, I’m confident he wouldn’t let me touch myself even if I had easier access. Maybe it’s the dominating way he thrusts his cock into me, each time his hips try to press deeper and deeper until my body protests. Or maybe it’s because he’s had a slight smirk to his lips the entire time he’s been fucking my face. As if he’s satisfied that I’m giving him power over me.
I rub my thighs together, rocking back and forth to try and ease the ache. It doesn’t do much. He keeps letting out a low, drawn-out moan each time he hits the back of my throat. If he does enough of those, I might just come without him touching me.
I try to hold back for as long as possible, but he picks up the pace, and each thrust gets harder and harder. I can’t take him anymore, my throat gagging as he brings me to my limit.
He pulls out, giving me the briefest moment to breathe before he does it all over again. I gag all over again now that he knows the exact way to pump into me.
“Good girl,” he pants. His head falls backward, but I keep my eyes locked on him. I’m fascinated by watching every single reaction. He swallows, the muscles of his throat working hard as he stifles a moan.
He slows, switching to slow, long thrusts instead of quick, punishing ones. It gives me a moment to gather myself as much as possible. Tears still fall from my eyes from the pressure of him. I gag, trying my best to keep my lips over my teeth.
“Maybe I should’ve fucked your face sooner. You actually listen with my cock shoved down your throat.” I moan around him, my eyes fluttering shut.
I’m about to pull away, to beg him to fuck me because my mouth can’t take any more, but I feel his balls tighten in my grip. It fuels me, prompting me to keep going to make him finish. I want to taste the proof of his arousal.
“I’m close.” He groans, both hands now holding my head to guide it the exact way he wants. I let him, wanting to do whatever I can to bring him to the brink of release.
He keeps the pace until his whole body tenses. His eyes open to meet mine, but he struggles to keep them open. They flutter closed in pleasure. My eyes flick down to how tightly wound his muscles are.
“Get ready to swallow,” he demands through a clenched jaw. “Every last fucking drop.”
Before I can give any kind of reaction, ropes of cum hit the back of my throat. They don’t relent as I try to take as much as I can. He tries to pull back when I can feel some leaking out the sides, but I keep him in my mouth until his body relaxes. He finally gives some relief to my scalp, his grip loosening as the tips of his fingers absentmindedly play with the strands of my hair.
I swallow the last of him when he pulls out of me. He doesn’t go far, but enough to give me time to breathe. His gaze focuses on the corner of my mouth. I reach up, wiping at the corner to find his cum. Maintaining eye contact, I slip it into my mouth and lick it from my skin.
He watches me closely, his body freezing for a moment before he pulls me off the ground. Before I can say or do anything, he’s smashing his mouth to mine. I’ve barely swallowed his cum, and he’s shoving his tongue in my mouth, kissing me with a type of ferocity I’ve never felt before.
The kiss slows, his tongue gliding in and out of my mouth until he pulls away. Our foreheads rest against one another as we catch our breath.
“Camden,” I whisper, unable to form words at what just happened. I squirm, needing friction between my thighs but also wanting to stay locked in the tender moment between us. I don’t want to admit it, but I like the softness of the moment. The way his fingers gently play with my hair, massaging the ache in my scalp from him tugging at it.
I like our matched, heavy breaths as we both try and recover from what just happened.
“What the hell are you doing to me, shortcake?” he says into my hair, pulling me to his chest. He’s given me the best orgasm of my life, fucked my face so roughly that I could’ve come just from how hot it was, and somehow, this is the first time we’ve ever hugged.
“I’m not doing anything,” I admit. Tension still fills the air between us, crackling as if it could explode at any moment.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen between us.” He pulls away, his head going back so he can look at me. “You weren’t supposed to take up so much goddamn space in my mind.” The words lash out from his mouth angrily. But it’s not like he’s mad at me, more like he’s upset with himself.
“Have you been thinking about me, Camden Hunter?” I tease, not ready to admit the number of times he’s crossed my mind since he left for New York.
“If I tell you yes, are you going to use it against me the next time I piss you off?”
This makes me smile, my teeth digging into my bottom lip in an attempt to fight it. “Try not making me mad for once and you won’t have to worry about it.”
He pushes hair from my face, tucking it behind my ears. “I’ll remember that.”
I nod, wondering when things will fall back into place. One heated kiss and a powerful orgasm for each of us isn’t enough to settle the angry tension that’s constantly between us. Or is it?
“Is this when you fuck me?” I ask eagerly, my body heating with the thought.
“I want to so fucking bad. But I told Tommy to stop by tonight, and when I finally get to fuck you, I’m going to take my time.”
“Cancel,” I offer, well aware it comes out more pleading than I’d intended. I know he shouldn’t cancel on Tommy. He’s a nice kid, and my night has already taken a turn I wasn’t expecting. But I want him, more of him—all of him. Anything he’ll give me tonight. “What makes you think that the offer to fuck me isn’t only for tonight?”
He aims a wolfish grin my way. “Because your body is terrible at hiding things.” He squeezes my hardened nipple as if to prove a point. “And I know that you’re in the same boat as me.” He traces a finger along the swell of my breast. “And just like me, you’ll be counting down the seconds until I’m buried inside you once again, except this time, it’ll be your pussy that’s full of me.”
He buttons his slacks, looking down at the ground where his ripped shirt lies.
I laugh. “Tommy might think it’s a little odd for you to be holding a late-night meeting with him shirtless.”
“I’ve got a spare in my office.”
I nod, stepping away from his grasp. It feels cold without the warmth of his body pressed against mine. The thought pops into my mind that we’ve never really said goodbye to one another. He ran away the time we almost kissed on the mountain. He wouldn’t have said goodbye to me tonight if I hadn’t angrily chased him.
“Last chance to fuck me,” I say, backing away toward the entrance.
“It won’t be the last,” he responds confidently, tucking his hands into his pockets. He looks hot as hell, standing in nothing but a pair of dress pants.
“You’re going to have to work for it, then.”
His eyes roam down my body. “I plan on it.”
And right before I walk out the door, he closes the distance between us and lays a chaste kiss to my lips.
“Goodbye, shortcake.”
I press my fingers to my lips, watching him back away as my mind reels with what just happened.
