Page 18 of You Are Cordially Invited

The buckle of his jeans hit the floor and a shirt landed at my feet, quickly followed by the snip of the lube cap. He slicked up and pressed a very demanding cock through the top of my thighs to press against my balls and my already interested dick sat bolt upright.

Welcome home.

“Fuck, I love that you’re just that much taller than me.” He nudged into me until I moaned. “It’s the perfect fucking difference.”

“Yeah, stop talking and... mmm, right there.” I shoved my butt back to get the head of his naked cock exactly where I wanted so it slid along my taint before hitting my balls. I reached behind to feel his arse and answer the question that always presented itself whenever Cam was intent on fucking me.

And yessss!

Satin and lace.

Which meant he’d pulled it aside to slick up and thigh fuck me. The visual alone sent a buzzing to the base of my spine.

Damn.

Sex with Cam was never predictable; never exactly the same two times in a row. Every time I thought I knew what he was going to do, he surprised me. The how, the when, the where, the position, toys or not, lingerie or naked. I still couldn’t believe how lucky I was.

“You like?” He leaned against me, thrusting in and out between my thighs.

“Red or yellow?” I knew the feel of all his lingerie.

“I was in a red mood today, baby. Do you remember?”

Did I ever. The last time he’d worn those particular omens of deliciousness, he’d fucked me raw in a Sydney hotel after I’d scored three tries in a game against the Wallabies and taken out man of the match. Just as well the team flew back to New Zealand in business class, because I couldn’t sit down for two days. It had been a blockbuster night.

“I need to train tomorrow,” I reminded him. “So maybe go a little easier on me this time.”

He withdrew his dick and spun me around, slamming me back against the wall. “I’ll think about it.” He dropped to his knees and swallowed me to the back of his throat.

Or not.“Holy... mphf.” The back of my head hit the wall and I made a mental note to call the plasterer. The entrance was looking decidedly pitted of late, and all at head level—mine.

Cam grunted and I looked down to see him working himself—his swollen dick jutting out the side of those bright red satin briefs I knew so well, pre-come dripping to the floor by his toes.

I sucked in a sharp breath, captivated by the sight of him, as always. He was so effortlessly sexy. The man oozed sex appeal in scrubs and a pair of damn sneakers. But like this, on his knees for me? He was incendiary.

He worked my dick like he’d been starving for it, and maybe he was. I liked to think so. I’d pretty much poured him into bed the night before—all wandering hands and zero coordination—cute as a button. He’d been out in a matter of minutes, his hand still holding my cock, a thin line of drool out the side of his mouth as he quietly snored. Fucking adorable.

Between Cory’s commitments and training and games and travel and Cam’s work, we didn’t always get as much alone time as we’d have liked, but that was life. We just made damn sure to make the time we did get count. And if anyone could make it count, Cam could. He never let a second go to waste if he could get his hands on me, or any opportunity to show he loved me. He was a toppy, bossy, sexy, demanding machine in bed—nothing had changed in the two years we’d been together—and I loved every spine-tingling, arse-aching second of it.

I channelled my fingers through all that silky black hair as Cam went to town on my dick. I even attempted a few thrusts into his mouth—poking the bear just for the hell of it.

He glanced up, caught my eye, and immediately went still.

Permission granted.

I wrapped my hands around the side of his head and his throat opened to me like the hot, wet, sucking black hole that it was. Cam had always deep-throated like a champ, whereas my own attempts had initially come with a warning that sounded remarkably like Gandalf when things got serious—‘You shall not pass.’ But I’d had two years of practice and I was catching up fast.

He stroked himself, struggling for breath as I fucked that glorious mouth. His tawny eyes streamed but remained locked on mine, daring me to hold back.

Never gonna happen. I knew he loved it.

And in less than a couple of minutes, I was teetering on the edge, balls drawn up, spine tingling.

Then just like that, his mouth was gone and my cock bobbed free.

“Bed.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me down the hall and into our enormous bedroom—Cam’s number one requirement when we’d gone real estate shopping for a larger home in the city. That, and a private, safe backyard for Cory and for us to be a family and entertain without making it easy for the media to intrude.

I eagerly followed, my eyes locked on the bunch and stretch of his firm arse and the tattoo that peeked through a fine layer of red lace. At the foot of our bed, I stretched to cup it in my hands, and he froze.

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