Page 219 of Corrupting Camille
Kane’s mouth twists into a ruthless, satisfied smirk, eyes hooded and dark with violent promise as he crawls slowly over me, lips grazing my jawline, teeth scraping roughly against my throat. He fists a hand in my hair, pulling just hard enough to tilt my head back, baring my neck to him, leaving me helpless beneath his gaze.
“Now, hermosa,” he growls, voice thick with filthy intent as he slides deliberately between my thighs, his broad shoulders forcing them apart until I’m fully exposed, shamelessly open for him. He drags a possessive finger down my soaked slit, lingering to tease my swollen clit. “You’re going to count every single lick until I reach that sweet, creamy center I fucking own.”
A desperate moan slips past my lips, my hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. “God, Kane...please…”
He chuckles darkly, breath hot and teasing against my throbbing core, his eyes blazing into mine as he flicks his tongue once, just barely, against my clit, sending fire racing through my veins.
“Start counting, princesa.”
“One…” I gasp, voice breaking on a ragged whisper as his tongue swirls slowly, deliberately, torturously soft against my aching clit, sending heat radiating through every trembling inch of my body. My hips roll desperately toward his mouth, seeking more, craving his touch.
“Two…” I whimper breathlessly when he licks again, firmer this time, possessively dragging his tongue in a slow, filthy line along my slit, collecting the slick arousal he’s already drawnfrom me. My fingers twist into the sheets, thighs quivering, breath hitching painfully in my throat.
Kane growls against my sensitive flesh, eyes darkening with ruthless hunger as he grips my hips tighter, holding me helplessly still. “Louder, Camille,” he rasps, voice thick and commanding. “I want everyone in this goddamn compound to hear exactly who makes you this fucking wet.”
“Three…” I cry sharply, pleasure ripping through me like lightning when he closes his lips around my swollen clit, sucking harshly, mercilessly, pulling me closer to the brink. “Oh god, Kane…please, please don’t stop…”
His mouth curves into a dark, wicked smile against me, tongue flicking expertly, driving me closer and closer to the edge of sanity. “Never, princesa,” he murmurs, voice vibrating with possessive satisfaction. “I’ll eat this pussy until you’re screaming my fucking name. Now keep counting, or we’ll start all over again…"
***
I stare at the screen for a long moment after the call with Lena ends, flushed, out of breath, my body still humming from Kane’s mouth, his hands, the way he whispered mi cielo like I was the only thing that ever softened him.
But this call is different.
This one matters in another way.
I scroll through the contacts Kane had Javi transfer into the new phone. Her name sits there, unchanged. Clara Sinclair.
My sister.
The good one.
The one who always followed the rules and never raised her voice. The one who always looked at me like I was equal parts idol and cautionary tale.
I hesitate, then press call.
It rings once.
Twice.
“Hello?”
Her voice hits me like a wave. It’s quiet. Polite. A little uncertain.
“Clara.”
There’s a pause. “Camille?”
My throat closes. “Yeah.”
“Oh my god.” A breathy laugh. “You’re alive.”
I exhale hard, smiling. “I am.”
“I…” She pauses, like she’s struggling to find the right words. “We didn’t know. No one did. I kept checking the papers, like something awful was going to show up in a headline.”
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks. “I didn’t mean to disappear. I just... needed to.”
