Page 26 of Ashley & the A-Listers

The ones River had left were long faded, and he missed them, missed being marked by him.

“Please,” Cameron whined, gripping himself tighter, feeling his back draw tight like a bow as he stroked himself to the sound of River’s bitten-out breaths.

“You get lazy when you get close,” River told him, and Cameron gasped out a chuckle. “But I love it. I love taking chargefor that last little bit, holding you steady. Rocking my hips up into you,god,you are so slick, I can hear it.”

His fist stuttered on his cock, cheeks flaring red at the realization.

“Don’t stop,” River told him. “Don’t get lazy. I’m not there to finish you. You have to do it yourself.”

Cameron bit his lip and nodded, though River couldn’t see it. Instead he fisted his cock again and stroked, hips twitching into each thrust, his slick making it very obvious just how desperate he was.

“There you go,” River purred, and even though he wasn’t an alpha, Cameron imagined he could feel the sound rumble from his chest against his own.

If Cameron focused—not likely, as his orgasm flared bright again—he could hear the way River touched himself, too.

“I’m close,” River admitted, and Cameron echoed him. “This is the part where you’d bury your face in my neck, leave me to do all the work.”

Cameron couldn’t even find the humor, because the image, the memories of this exact scenario were too good, too real. “Nothing to do but drag you against me, cocks sliding against each other in our mess. Thighs squeezing tight around my hips.”

God, Cameron wanted it, wished it wasn’t just their words building the picture.

His cock kicked in his grip, and he groaned, head tilting back into the pillows as the phone slipped off his chest. He scrambled for it and laid it beside his ear, imagining he could feel the hot puff of River’s breaths there instead.

“Can practically feel you pulsing against me, alongside me, grinding into my stomach,” River continued. “You tense up right before you come, your whole body going stiff for a split second before you—fuck—spill,” he moaned. “Your—Your cute littlecock twitching before you let go, covering us both—fuck, come on, baby, come with me.”

Cameron whined at River’s slight degradation, following River over the edge, their shared breaths panting over the line as Cameron’s cock did twitch, and then spilled over his fist, his body tensing with it, just like River remembered.

He pictured River doing the same, his back arched and body flexed as it worked through him. Cameron’s cheeks heated as he recalled River’s words.

“My cock is not little,” he grumbled, eyes still closed in the bliss of the aftershocks.

“No, it’s not,” River agreed. “But it got you off, didn’t it?”

River’s chuckle was all wind chimes and sunshine as Cameron muttered.

Now he was sleepy, eyes gluing shut.

“If only you were here for an afterglow cuddle,” he murmured.

“I know, baby. I miss you, too,” River said.

“Just a few more weeks, then maybe I can find a weekend to fly home for a bit,” Cameron promised to himself just as much as to River.

“That sounds perfect. See you soon, then,” River said.

After their goodbyes, Cameron couldn’t find it in him to drop off that ledge into a deep sleep.

Fuck.

He got out of bed, cleaned himself up, and returned only to pout up at the generic painting across the room. It was of a stupid fucking river, of course, with pink blooms on the trees and bright green grass.

Cameron missed his stupid boyfriend.

What a fucking sap I am.

There was nothing hotter than a good frotting session, except maybe waking up next to the motherfucker.

“God dammit,” he snapped, and turned over, curling around a pillow. Once it had held the remnants of River’s scent, but now it was worn out and bare all but for Cameron’s own muted sweet scent.

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