Page 54 of Beautifully Devoted

Since he seemed intrigued by the idea of waking up with his cock in my mouth, I figure he won’t object to waking up with it in my hand, and I try to ignore my own throbbing dick by absently massaging his. That does actually distract me a bit, but only until his hips start rocking gently back and forth, and the urge to have him explore me in return becomes overwhelming.

I grip him a little harder, willing him to wake up with a need that rivals my own, and after toying with his slit another minute, I get my wish.

“Thought you wanted to use your mouth.” His voice is thick with sleep though his thrusting hips feel pretty awake.

“That was last night. Now, I want your fingers.”

The arm draped over my chest pulls back until it’s just his fingers touching me. Although, instead of letting them linger there, he drags them down my stomach until he can wrap them around my cock. The moan that elicits from my throat is indecent, yet despite the fact it feels like heaven to have him holding my dick, I shake my head.

“Not there,” I pant as I muster the strength to roll to my side, giving him my back.

“Kitcat?” His whole body seems to freeze behind me.

“I need it, Cam.”

“Need what?”

“I need to know what it’s like. To feel full. But your dick’s fucking big so you’ll have to get me ready first.”

Cam’s hand slides down my length, but instead of traveling back up it drifts over my pelvis, coming to rest on my hip. “I thought you’d be the top,” he says, referring to our longstanding joke about who’d be in charge between the two of us.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say maybe one day, but that’s looking farther ahead than I think either of us is ready for. So far, this has been about chasing gratification in the moment, and that’s the safest way to answer. “Topping isn’t what I need right now.”

Cam’s hand tightens on my hip. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

Instead of answering, I open the drawer on his nightstand and get the lube I know he keeps there, passing it over my shoulder without looking at him. It’s cowardly. Especially, considering I’ve never once been unable to look at Cam, but there’s a reason I joke about being the top, and it contradicts what I’m doing right now.

I’m never not in control. Even when I get in my head about stuff and Cam has to level me out, he steers me in a way that gives me the illusion I’m calling the shots. I don’t know when or why we fell into that dynamic, but it’s been that way for as long as I can remember, and it’s my safe space. He’s my safe space. Always there for me and making me feel needed and important and, for lack of a better term…loved.

He fills the void my dad left, and he does it in a way that makes me feel like I have his respect, not his pity. With him I’m not some worthless kid whose dad didn’t want him. I’m the guy who’s always up for adventure, who can turn even the most boring shit into something fun, and who’s never at a loss for words.

I’ve never admitted or acknowledged it, but I’m well aware he gives me the stage that helps me feel worthy, and he never makes me feel bad for needing it. So, for me to voluntarily give up control, even to the person I trust most in the world, is totally out of character for me. And he knows it.

While it makes me a coward to give myself to him without looking at him, I know he gets why it has to be this way. And I’m grateful he’s letting me be vulnerable without making me feel like I’m giving up my dignity.

“It might be cold.” Cam’s deep voice rumbles next to my ear. I nod in acknowledgement and hold my breath to brace for the frigid intrusion.

Despite thinking I’m ready for it, the cool liquid does make me flinch slightly, but the rhythmic slide of Cam’s fingers over my crease soothes away the discomfort in seconds.

“Good?” he rasps.

“Yeah. Give me a finger.”

Anticipation has my skin humming with electricity despite my limbs being otherwise frozen. I have just enough control to rock toward Cam’s finger as it presses against my hole, though it’s only because he pushes forward that he’s able to breach the ring of muscle.

I grunt as my body registers the intrusion, and his hand immediately stills. “Alright, Kitcat?”

“Yeah.” I will my voice to stay level. “It’s not… It doesn’t hurt, it’s just different. Go slow and I’ll be fine.”

Cam’s chest presses into my back as he inhales, and I feel his finger nudge slightly deeper before pulling away. Not pulling out entirely, but enough for my body to think the intrusion is gone and involuntarily tense when he tries to push back in. It’s less foreign now though, so if I concentrate, I can keep my muscles from fighting him.

For several minutes my mind and body are at odds, one trying to stay calm while the other is determined to remain tense. The clash between the two makes any pleasure elusive, although the gentle glide of Cam’s finger is intriguing enough that it feels like pleasure is within reach if my body can get on board with this new sensation.

Closing my eyes, I do my best to relax, and as I do Cam is able to move faster, push deeper. His movements are still measured, but the increased pace creates an interesting friction that borders on pleasant. It keeps my dick hard, that’s for sure, and since nothing is currently touching it, I find myself rolling my hips as though the air itself could soothe the growing need. That only ends up forcing Cam’s finger deeper, until he hits a spot that not only has me yelling aloud, it makes my cock jerk violently.

“Holy fuck!” I push against Cam’s hand, desperate to test whether he found what I think he did. And when a tremor wracks my body like a bomb, exploding through my limbs, my mind empties save for one all-consuming thought… More.

“Cam,” I whimper. Whimper. “Cam, I need… I need…”

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