Page 17 of Second Quarter Comeback
Slowly, he pushes inside, the stretch almost too much, and I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he groans, his head dropping to my neck as he pauses, letting me adjust to his size. “You feel so good, baby. So tight. So perfect. So mine.”
The burn fades into a deep ache, a need that builds with every second he’s still inside me. I rock my hips against him, and he takes the hint, thrusting in deeper, filling me completely.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, my head falling back against the wall.
He moves, his rhythm slow at first, deliberate, each thrust driving me higher. His hands grip my thighs tighter, holding me up like I weigh nothing. The wall behind me is solid, grounding me as he fucks me, his cock sliding in and out, hitting just the right spot with every stroke.
“You feel incredible,” he growls, his lips brushing against my neck. “So wet, so perfect for me.”
My moans grow louder with each thrust, my body completely under his control. His grip is firm, his hand sliding from my thigh to cup my ass, pulling me even closer, deeper, until I’m gasping, the pleasure building into something unstoppable.
“Touch yourself,” he growls against my ear, his voice rough and commanding. “Show me how much you want this, Camille. Let me see you fall apart.”
I hesitate, my breath catching, and his gaze locks onto mine, intense and unyielding. “Do it,” he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I want to see you touch that pretty clit while I fuck you.”
My trembling hand moves between us, my fingers finding my swollen, sensitive clit. The moment I touch it, the sensation is overwhelming, a jolt of electricity shooting through me as his cock fills me completely, thrusting deep and steady.
“That’s it,” he groans, his thrusts quickening as hewatches me. “Good girl. Keep going. Make yourself come for me.”
The combination of my fingers working my clit and his relentless pace is too much. My body trembles, the pressure coiling tight in my belly, ready to snap.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. “You have no idea how good you look. How good you feel. Come for me, Camille. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”
His words are my undoing. The orgasm crashes over me, blinding and intense, my fingers faltering as my body tightens around him. I cry out his name, my nails digging into his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me.
“Jesus, Camille,” he groans, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself deep one last time, his own release hitting him hard. His body trembles against mine, his breaths ragged as he rides out his climax.
The only sound in the room is our labored breathing, our bodies still tangled together. Slowly, he pulls back, his hands gentle as he brushes a strand of damp hair from my face.
“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his lips finding mine in a soft, lingering kiss. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
As the last tremors of our climaxes fade, he holds me close, his strong arms steadying me as he gently lowers me to the couch. My body feels boneless, utterly spent, but he doesn’t let me go—not even for a second.
“Stay here,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
I nod, too dazed to respond, watching as he disappears into the bathroom. Moments later, he’s back with a warm, damp towel, his jeans hastily pulled up but unbuttoned, the sight of him both endearing and devastatingly sexy.
He kneels beside me, his touch soft as he cleans me up, taking his time, his movements unhurried. “You okay, baby?” he asks, his voice gentle but firm, his eyes searching mine for any hint of discomfort.
“I’m perfect,” I whisper, my lips curving into a small, content smile.
“Damn right, you are,” he says, his grin softening as he leans down to press a kiss to my lips. “You’re mine, Camille. My girl.”
The words make my heart stutter, warmth spreading through me as I reach up to cup his face. “Yours,” I echo, the truth of it settling over me like a blanket.
He tosses the towel aside, pulling me into his arms. His hands move soothingly along my back, his fingers tracing idle patterns that make me shiver.
“I love you,” he murmurs, the words quiet but certain, as if he’s known it for a while and couldn’t hold them in any longer. “You have no idea how much.”
I freeze for half a second, the weight of his confession hitting me—but then I melt into him, pressing my face against his chest, my arms wrapping around him tightly.
“I love you, too,” I whisper against his skin, the words spilling out before I can overthink them.
His hold on me tightens, his lips pressing to the top of my head. “You’re everything, you know that?”
I smile faintly, nuzzling closer, but the words slip out before I can stop them. “I’m scared. This feels too soon.”
