Page 11 of Second Quarter Comeback
She starts to say something, but I cut her off with a quick kiss and a smirk. “Lucky for you, I aced anatomy. And I’m pretty sure you know a thing or two, right? Being the owner of this masterpiece and all?”
Her laughter is soft and nervous, but it’s there. Good. That’s a start.
“C’mon,” I say, taking her hand and gently tugging her toward my room. “Lesson one starts now. Let’s get you unwrapped.”
I lead her through the doorway, pausing just long enough to flick on the lamp. The soft golden glow casts a warm light over the room, and I turn back to her, catching the way her eyes dart nervously toward the bed.
“It’s okay,” I say, easing her closer until she’s standing in front of me. My hands go to the button of her jeans, and I take my time, popping it open and sliding the zipper down. “Think of this like opening a present. You wouldn’t want me to rush, would you?”
Her soft laugh turns into a gasp as I hook my fingers into the waistband and start to pull them down, my lips grazing her collarbone as I go.
“See? Nice and slow,” I murmur, letting my hands skim the curve of her hips as her jeans drop to the floor. “We’ve got all the time in the world, baby. No rushing, no guessing. Just you and me figuring out exactly what makes you feel like a goddess.”
Her breath comes in quick little huffs, and I grin against her skin. This is going to be fun.
She’s standing in front of me now, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly parted as if she’s waiting for a cue, for me to take the lead. Slowly, I trail my hands up her sides, skimming over the smooth, warm skin of her waist until I reach the clasp of her bra.
“May I?” I ask softly, holding her gaze.
She nods, her breath coming in soft little gasps.
I undo the clasp with deliberate care, letting the straps slide down her shoulders and my hands follow the motion. When the fabric falls away, I can’t stop the low groan that escapes me.
Her tits are perfect. Full, round, and flawless, with taut, rosy nipples that make my mouth water. I take a slow step back to look at her, running my tongue over my lower lip as I drink her in.
“Jesus, Camille,” I murmur, my voice reverent, as if she’s a work of art unveiled just for me. “You’re . . . breathtaking.”
She bites her lip, glancing down shyly. “You like them?”
“Like them?” I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Baby, I love them.” My hands hover near her breasts, not touching, waiting. “Can I?”
She hesitates for only a moment before nodding, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
Carefully, I cup her breasts, marveling at the way they fit perfectly in my palms. My thumbs brush overher nipples, and the soft gasp she lets out is like music to my ears.
“You’re so sensitive,” I murmur, my thumbs circling slowly, teasing. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering shut.
I lean in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth before trailing lower, letting my lips hover just above her skin. “Can I suck on them?”
Her breath catches, and she nods again, her voice trembling. “Please.”
That single word is all I need. I take her nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the peak and savoring the way her body reacts. She arches into me, her fingers tangling in my hair as a soft moan slips from her lips.
“Do you like that, Camille?” I ask between kisses, switching to her other breast, giving it the same attention.
“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice shaky. “I love it.”
I press one last kiss to the swell of her breast before trailing lower, my lips brushing over her ribs, her stomach, every inch of her that I can reach. She’s trembling now, her hands gripping my shoulders as I guide her backward toward the bed.
“Lie down for me, sweetheart,” I whisper, and she obeys, stretching out across the sheets. Her hair fans out around her, her skin glowing in the warm light, and she looks up at me with wide, trusting eyes.
She’s beautiful. Sprawled out for me, open, vulnerable, and completely perfect.
I kneel on the bed, running my hands up her thighs as I lean over her, capturing her lips in a slow, languid kiss. It’s not rushed, not frantic—just deliberate and thorough, letting her feel every ounce of the desire coursing through me.
“You’re incredible,” I murmur against her mouth, trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and back to her chest. “I’m going to take care of you tonight, Camille. Do you trust me?”
