Page 62 of Already At Risk
“I make so many decisions every day. I think I’d like to be told what to do for once.” I thought on that for a moment, how I wanted to make sure it differed from what I’d already experienced in the past, and knew there was one major difference. “But also be…prioritized, I guess.”
A soft groan came through the phone, making my pulse tick faster.
“You’re saying I can do what I want with you as long as I make you come?”
Heat rose up my body at his blunt words. “Yeah, Cameron. That’s what I’m saying.”
I swallowed past the sudden dryness in my throat, caused by my hot flash.
“So when you say you want control,” he continued, clearly trying to piece me and my needs together, “you don’t mean you want control overme. You just want control over the parameters of what we’re doing.”
I nodded, happy that he understood and that we were having the conversation so we could be on the same page. Because that wasexactlywhat I wanted.
“Yes.” The single syllable came out breathless. “If you’re up for it, I’d prefer you have control in…teaching me what I like.”
“Goddamnit, Sunny.”
“What?”
“You’re just so fucking perfect.” His voice came through in varying degrees of muffled, like he was running a hand over his face. “You were worried about compatibility, but you have no idea how much—fuck. Just…yes. Yes, I am up for it. I have every confidence that I can give you what you need.”
“I know you will,” I said, because Cameron had only ever exuded confidence. “I’m not reallythatworried. I just wanted to be sure.”
And he’d only ever delivered on his promises.
I’d only known him a short time, but I couldn’t help but feel safe in every one of his reassurances. Every time he’d encouraged or assured me, it made me feel like I was exactly where I needed to be. And I suspected it would feel exactly the same—probably even better—when we explored these new roles.
“You can be sure, Natalie,” he insisted. “You can trust in what you felt earlier today when I put my hands on you. You can trust in the instinct that made you drag them back for more.”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I admitted, knowing that if I were to go back in time, I would probably do it all over again without doing anything different.
“But you liked it.” Not a question, but a statement.
“I did,” I whispered into the phone. “I liked you touching me.”
His hushed “Fuck” sent me spiraling.
And it only got worse when he added, “You wanted me to keep touching you, didn’t you?”
“Mhmm,” I hummed, thinking back to the feel of his thumb tracing circles on my inner thigh, making me want to part my legs, give him access to more of me.
“You felt so fucking good beneath my fingers. All I wanted to do was feel more of you.”
An embarrassing whimper left my lips as I thought about it, as I imagined Cameron’s hands on me again, as I thought about them touching me in other places, slipping beneath the hem of my underwear.
“Yeah, Sunny? You agree?” His voice was a fucking aphrodisiac, all gruff but smooth at the same time. The most sinful oxymoron.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“If my hand slid higher beneath your skirt, what would I have found?” he asked, voicing my exact thoughts.
I slipped my hand beneath the covers, sliding it down my body to my thighs, right where he had been this morning. My skin was warm, probably from the heat of his words. And then I mimicked them, moving my fingers along the inner seam of my thigh.
“Cameron,” I panted, unable to say anything other than his name.
“Natalie, tell me.” A soft demand.
“Tell you what?”
