Page 35 of Beautifully Devoted

“I think it’s pretty clear I do.” His gaze drifts down to his lap before coming up to meet mine. “So, now what?”

“You tell me.”

“No way, this is your show. What do you want?” His chest rises and falls with such precision it’s obvious it’s taking all his effort to hold still, which has my body pinging with excitement. Some nerves and a tiny hint of fear, too, but mostly excitement.

“Give me a show. Touch yourself.”

Despite a shaky inhale Cam’s shoulders lose their rigid edge as he peels his right hand off the mattress and uses his forefinger to draw a lazy circle around his crown. The exhale he lets out is one of pure relief, and it makes me instantly jealous that I can’t feel any friction on my skin. I don’t touch myself though. I don’t want to miss even a second of what Cam’s doing.

Using only his finger, he traces lines up and down his length, mapping the veins, and circling the ridge of skin that borders his crown. The corona—not the beer kind—if I remember right. As his tip begins to glisten, I realize he’s spreading his precum around, which makes my blood pump so hard I swear it feels like my dick has a heartbeat.

Up and down, back and forth, around… Cam’s shaft strains toward his finger as he drags it leisurely over his skin, his hooded brown eyes fluttering with barely contained lust as he teases himself for my benefit.

Okay, it’s official. I like my best friend’s dick. And as for Cam…he’s fucking hot when he’s turned on.

When Cam’s finger snags on his slit he bites his lip, literally bites his lip to swallow the almost pained moan that tries to rumble up his throat. The sound leaves my own tip glistening, and I clamp my hands on the armrest of the chair, knuckles going white in a desperate attempt to keep them off my own throbbing cock.

Then Cam wraps his fist around his length and gives a firm tug, and I swear my hips move like they’re tethered to his hand. The movement snags his attention, and he licks his dry lips before grunting, “Now you.”

Mimicking his performance, I bring my finger to my tip, whimpering slightly when I make contact. The friction is so good it leaves me breathless, and my chest heaves in a battle for air. The pressure I’m applying is featherlight, but it feels so good on my poor deprived cock I’m instantly catapulted to the gates of heaven.

Tingles erupt along the path of my finger, spiraling outward to crash into each other. It’s like tiny ripples that intersect when you throw a handful of pebbles into a lake. It makes my whole crown buzz with a current of electricity that stretches from my shaft to my balls to my toes, which curl on the hardwood floor beneath me.

“What’s that feel like?”

“Huh?” Cam’s question has me blinking my body back down to earth.

“Foreskin.” He tips his head like he’s using it to point between my legs. “What’s it feel like?”

Glancing down it occurs to me that while Cam was circling his fingertip around the entire head of his cock, my fingertip is stationary on my foreskin as I circle it around. Huh, I guess that might feel different.

“It feels like silk sliding over me.” My breaths are stilted as I let myself savor the friction I’m creating with just my finger, something I’ve done before, of course, but not to this extent. Not to turn someone else on as much as I’m turning myself on. “Wanna try?”

Cam’s hand stops its leisurely pumping as the tension finds its way back to his shoulders. “You want me to… You want me to touch your cock?”

“If you want to know what it feels like, yeah.”

Cam jiggles his head, like he’s trying to knock some sense into it, but either it doesn’t work or curiosity outweighs common sense because a second later he’s scooting off the bed and coming toward me, his perfect cock bobbing with each step from where it’s protruding from the open flap of his jeans.

Why is that so hot?

When he’s close enough our toes could touch, he stretches out his arm, forefinger poised to take over for mine. And before I can think about the implications, I blurt out what I meant by try.

“Not with your finger, your dick.”

His hand freezes in midair as he gasps, “What?”

“It doesn’t feel the same on your finger.”

“You want me to rub my dick against yours?” Since his is basically at eye level, I don’t miss how it twitches when he speaks his thoughts out loud.

“If you want to know what it feels like, yeah.” Cam takes a half step back as I stand so our cocks line up, but I make no effort to close the few inches of distance so he doesn’t think I’m pushing him to do something he’s not ready for. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m ready for it—I didn’t exactly think it through before offering to let him experience foreskin—but since I’m personally a fan, I’m happy to let him explore it.

It takes a beat—understandably so—but when Cam fists his cock and pushes his hips forward, I do the same, bringing our tips together like they’re kissing so I can pull my foreskin over his crown, “docking” us together. As much as I can with only one of us being uncut anyway.

Thank you, Urban Dictionary, for explaining in such detail how to do this.

“Fuck,” Cam groans as I squeeze and rub his tip with my… Yeah, gotta stick with foreskin. Prepuce sounds too clinical for sexy times.

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