Page 177 of Corrupting Camille
His mouth slams onto mine, devouring every gasp, every moan, every single thing I have left to offer. We kiss like we’re starving, desperate to consume and be consumed, wild and reckless enough to burn the whole fucking plane down.
His hand slips between us, fingers sliding expertly through my wetness, stroking, circling, dragging a ragged moan from deep inside me. My hips grind down, chasing friction, desperate for more, needing him deeper, rougher, now.
“Kane…” My voice splinters on his name.
“Shh,” he murmurs roughly, sliding his fingers up again, slow and deliberate. “Not yet.”
Then his hand moves away abruptly, and before I can protest, he brings those same fingers to my lips.
“Open,” he commands softly, voice dark, eyes locked onto mine, daring me to obey.
I part my lips instantly, no hesitation, no shame. I take his fingers into my mouth, tasting myself, warm, slick, sinful. My tongue wraps around him, licking slowly, deliberately. Sucking gently, I hold his stare, refusing to break eye contact even as my cheeks flush hot and my pulse pounds wildly beneath my skin.
His thumb brushes over my lower lip, pressing lightly, and I pause, waiting, trembling in anticipation.
“Good girl,” Kane whispers, voice thick with approval, with possession. He watches intently as I suck his fingers deeper, tasting my own need on him, my tongue sliding over his skin slowly, deliberately, shamelessly.
Something raw and primal flares behind his eyes. He pulls his fingers from my mouth, sliding his thumb roughly across my lower lip, my wetness there like a filthy promise. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to mine, our breaths mixing hot and desperate. “You taste that, Camille?” His voice is dark, soft, but utterly ruthless. “That melted, honeyed desire? That’s what I drink when I eat you.” His thumb presses firmer, slipping just inside my mouth, forcing me to take more of him, more of myself. “Every time you’re beneath me, every time you break open for me,thisis what I’m chasing. The way you drip for me, the way you surrender…“ His voice trails off, heavy, dangerous, possessive. “You’re my sweetest addiction, muñequita. My favorite way to lose control.” He licks my lips, taking the last trace of my surrender.
I shiver, breath catching as his words sear through me.
“More,” I whisper, licking my lips, tasting myself shamelessly, watching his eyes ignite.
He growls softly, eyes black with hunger. His fingers tighten around my hips, lifting me slightly before settling me firmly over the hard, straining length of him. Slowly, torturously, he slides me along his cock, letting me feel every thick inch, every agonizing pulse through his pants.
I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, desperate for friction, for contact, for him.
His mouth finds my throat, teeth scraping against delicate skin, biting just enough to leave a mark, a bruise I’ll rememberfor days. “Tell me who owns this pussy,” he demands, voice ragged, raw, barely restrained.
“You,” I moan helplessly, grinding myself down against him, thighs trembling. “Only you.”
His eyes flash with dark approval, and in one swift movement, he frees himself, hot, heavy, and thick against my entrance. He doesn’t tease, doesn’t wait, just thrusts upward, filling me brutally, completely, exactly how I need him.
I cry out sharply, arching into him, overwhelmed by the harsh, perfect stretch of him deep inside me.
“Fuck,” Kane growls, fingers digging into my hips, guiding me up and down, setting a relentless, punishing rhythm. “Feel how perfect you take me, Camille.”
My hands slide up, tangling in his hair, gripping tight as I move against him, losing myself to the sensation. Every stroke is rough, merciless, branding pleasure and pain deep beneath my skin. His mouth claims mine again, tongue ruthless, tasting every desperate sound that escapes me.
“Harder,” I breathe, hips rolling shamelessly against him, chasing the friction, the heat, the brutal ache he’s stirring inside me.
He smirks against my lips, voice rough, edged with something dark. “Greedy.”
His thumb presses firmly between us, circling my swollen clit with ruthless precision, pulling a desperate moan from deep in my chest. My body tightens around him, trembling, breaking apart beneath his touch.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, voice shattering, fingers digging into his shoulders, holding on like he’s the only thing left keeping me from spinning off this earth.
He thrusts deeper, rougher, relentless, his rhythm fierce and punishing, every movement a challenge, a claim. He’s determined to wreck me, and I’m letting him, willingly, eagerly.
“You gonna come for me, Camille?” he growls, voice thick, territorial, consuming me whole.
I nod frantically, words beyond me, my surrender absolute. He smiles darkly, driving harder, deeper, thumb never stopping its tormenting rhythm.
And just before the thrust that’ll ruin me, he leans in close, breath hot against my ear, voice a dangerous caress…
“Mírame, cielo. Estás perfecta así. Tan jodidamente mía.”
Look at me, heaven. You’re perfect like this. So fucking mine.
