Page 47 of Second Quarter Comeback
I add another finger, stretching her, filling her completely, and she gasps, her head falling back against the shower wall. My thumb trails lower, teasing her other entrance, the light pressure making her shudder. Her whole body is trembling, her thighs quivering as I keep her pinned between me and the wall.
“Do you want more?” I rasp, my mouth brushing against her ear, my fingers curling deeper inside her. “Do you want my fingers deeper? Harder?”
“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice breaking. “Fuck me harder. Please, Killion.”
Her plea sends a bolt of heat straight through me, and I oblige, thrusting my fingers into her, faster, harder, each movement coaxing louder cries from her lips. My thumb presses firmer against her other entrance, circling in time with my fingers, making her gasp and writhe against me.
“You’re so fucking needy,” I growl, my teeth grazing her earlobe. “You can’t get enough, can you? You love how I fuck you with my fingers, how I make you fall apart.”
She moans louder, her hips bucking against my hand as she chases her release. “That’s it, baby. Use me. Take everything you need,” I encourage, my voice rough with desire. “Come for me. I want to feel you squeeze my fingers when you fall apart.”
Her cries grow frantic, her body trembling violently in my arms as she finally lets go, shuddering around me. Her release is hot and wet, coating my fingers as I keep moving, drawing out every last wave of her climax.
“Good girl,” I murmur, my lips pressing against her temple as her body relaxes against mine, spent but glowing with satisfaction. “You’re so fucking perfect when you come undone for me.”
As her trembling subsides, I hold her close, letting the hot water wash over us both. Her head rests against my chest, her breathing ragged but slowing, her bodysoft and pliant in my arms. I trail my hands down her back, soothing her with gentle strokes as the water cascades around us.
“Let’s finish up,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her damp hair.
She nods weakly, her body still leaning into mine as I reach for the soap again. This time, I work quickly but tenderly, running my hands over her skin, cleaning away the remnants of our passion. Her eyes flutter closed, and a small, contented sigh escapes her lips.
When I’m done, I rinse her off, making sure every inch of her is taken care of. Then I grab a towel, stepping out of the shower first and holding it open for her. She follows, her movements sluggish but trusting, and I wrap the towel around her, drying her gently.
“Lift your arms,” I murmur, and she does without question, letting me dry every curve, every inch of her. I kneel to dry her legs and feet, my touch soft, reverent, as if she might break. She leans on my shoulder, her hands resting lightly on my hair, and for a moment, it’s just us—quiet, intimate, no barriers between us.
Once she’s dry, I lead her to the bedroom, supporting her as she walks. She sinks into the bed, and I pull the blanket over her, tucking it around her with care. She looks up at me, her eyes hazy but content.
I sit beside her, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. “We’ll talk tomorrow about everything else,” I say softly, my voice steady and sure. “Thank you for letting me take care of you tonight.”
Her lips part as if to respond, but she just nods, her hand reaching out to rest lightly on mine. I stay with her until her breathing evens out, her body sinking into sleep. Only then do I stand, watching her for a moment longer before turning off the light and quietly leaving the room, my mind already racing with what tomorrow will bring.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Killion: Morning, babe. I had to go to my parents’ estate. I would’ve invited you, but when I rang the bell, you didn’t answer.
Camille: I’m out all morning, but even if I wasn’t, we’re not in a place where:
a) you call me babe.
b) I go and visit your parents.
Killion: When can we talk about us?
Camille: I don’t know. Last night could’ve been a greatopportunity, but you . . .
Killion: Me? I asked for permission.
Camille: Sure, but it was supposed to be us discussing what happened, not you using your special powers to make me . . .
Killion: To make you come so hard you forgot why you were mad? You’re welcome.
Camille: That’s not the point. And don’t be so cocky.
Killion: I think it’s exactly the point. You seemed to need something to relax. I just gave it to you.
Camille: That’s your excuse?
Killion: Yeah, why not?
