Page 77 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
This was huge, and I was sharing it with him. With Cameron. My Cameron.
He reached for the hem of my glittery top, inching it up slowly. I sucked in a breath as my black binder underneath was revealed. He pulled the shirt over my head, then his hands went to the bottom of my mid-length binder, his fingertips lightly brushing my flat stomach, as his eyes found mine. “You sure this is okay?”
I sucked in a breath then nodded, never breaking his gaze.
He nodded back, inhaling as he traced the edge of the half-length binder at my torso. I wished I could take it all off,bare myself to him, but my stomach tumbled at the thought of Cameron seeing me like that. Imperfect. Incomplete. Not myself.
“You okay?”
I choked back tears as I nodded. “Yes, I’m good. I want this with you. Even if I can’t . . .” I let my voice trail off.
He lifted his hand to hold my chin, his face serious. “Sam, listen to me. You are perfect. This is perfect. I don’t have any expectations around what this should look like. Tonight, we’re just us. Whatever that looks like is perfect.”
My breath caught as he held my gaze, and we just stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, his words hanging in the air between us. How could he possibly know all the right things to say? I knew he’d been through a transition himself, so of course he’d understand, but his gentleness, his tenderness in this moment was destroying me and putting me back together at the same time.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat as his fingertips trailed over my bare shoulders, down the inside of my right arm then my left. I watched him closely as he tracked his movements, his eyes trained on where his fingers grazed my naked skin.
My eyes blinked back to his at the same time his found mine. “Sam,” he breathed. “You’re beautiful.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for just a second before finding his blue ones again, darkened with lust but still visible in the light of the moon coming in the window. I whispered an enraptured “Yes” as I felt the tips of his fingers lightly stroke over my ribs again.
His words were soft, almost reverent. “Your skin feels so good, Sam. Fuck, you’re incredible.”
My eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his hands on me as they gently traced over the binder, headed toward my collarbone. Though I couldn’t feel much through the restrictive material, it was still a foreign feeling having someone touch me there afterso long. I relished it. “God, Cameron . . .” I shook my head as I imagined a slight brush to my nipples when he passed over them, and my dick perked up. “That feels amazing.”
Cameron gently guided me to my back then resumed trailing his fingers over the top of my chest, back over the binder, across my torso, an infuriating, teasing brush over my nipples through the fabric. He caressed my collarbone, my shoulders, my neck.
Then he leaned down, and my breath caught.
Following the invisible path his fingers had explored, his lips retraced each step, pressing the softest of kisses against my sensitized skin. Then his tongue reached out to lick a stripe across the heated skin of my torso. I jolted—having someone pay my body attention like this was liberating. Cameron’s tongue was life-changing, and I couldn’t wait to feel it elsewhere.
He moved up my left arm, kissing and licking as he went, worshipping my body, then turned his focus to my collarbone and neck. I hummed quietly in my throat, not quite believing that I was actually here, in his dark bedroom, with the man I’d lusted after from afar. With the man I’d spent many nights with online. With the man I finally,finally, had in bed with me in person.
He kissed up my jaw, his lips scraping against my stubble. I shuddered. His gentle touches were undoing me. How could I stay whole after this? After knowing he could make me feel this way? After being worshipped like a god among men?
When his lips found mine, lust shot through me, and I couldn’t wait anymore. I fucking devoured his mouth, claiming it for my own. My tongue explored, taking, never giving up an inch of ground. I had to have him, own him, make him mine.
I leaned back against the pillow, staring into his eyes as I found his hands and guided them to my waist. “Take them off.”
The lust that flashed through his eyes had me growling. I hadn’t given him enough time to do anything, really, but still, he wasn’t moving fast enough. “Now, boy.”
Shaky fingers undid the button on my leather pants, and like I had with his, he fought to pull them down my legs. But this time, we weren’t giggling. By the time he tossed my pants on the floor, we were breathing so heavily I worried we both might hyperventilate. My binder was starting to feel too tight, too restrictive. I needed it off, but I didn’t know how I could stand it. I didn’t know how I could bare myself to him and withstand his rejection. I couldn’t handle that.
“Cameron,” I eked out, my voice breaking, and he gingerly sat back on his heels and gazed at me, his eyes hazy.
“Yes, Sam? Are you okay?”
My heart squeezed at how he still checked in with me, still made me feel like I wasn’t an imperfect mess of a man whose outside didn’t match his inside. And the way he was looking at me now, his eyes full of understanding and compassion . . . I’d never felt so adored or vulnerable in that moment.
I almost called it off. It was almost too much.
But this was Cameron, my boy, and I wanted to open up to him. I wanted to be myself, show myself to him. All the parts I kept hidden from everyone else.
Eyes trained on his, I sat up and reached for the hem of my binder.
“Sam, you don’t have to—”
“I know.” I slowly tugged the hem upward with both hands, revealing more skin, inch by inch. “I want to.” Then I pulled the binder over my head and tossed it aside.
