Page 80 of The Saint

“Remember?” he pressed.

She nodded. “I just…”

Camden pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Give me all the apprehension you’re hanging onto. Hand it over, and I’m going to throw it out the fucking window.”

“I don’t know why I got in my head all of a sudden.”

His smile quirked. “You met a dominatrix who saw us clearly.”

Maybe that was it. What had Esme seen? Camden was a walking, talking stud, and she was much simpler, plainer, the woman who disappeared at work and was an introvert. The bigger problem was their unevenness. Her stomach dropped. That was what Camden had warned her about: their power dynamic.

“I can see the wheels spinning.” He took Esme’s box and placed it on the nightstand, almost out of reach. Then Camden pulled the comforter over her semi-naked body. “Whatever you’re scared of, whatever you need, Amelia, I’m going to give it to you. And I’m going to enjoy every fuckin’ second of it. Understood?”

Power dynamics existed in everything. That didn’t make them unhealthy. He was laying everything out for her. He wasn’t toxic. He wasn’t dangerous. She might have been falling for someone who was unavailable. That was their inequity. At least she could see the problem and gird herself for fallout.

Amelia reached for the box on the nightstand and pressed it into Camden’s hand. She tossed the covers off. “I understand, and I don’t want to stop.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. What about you?”

Camden licked his bottom lip and removed the mask from the box. A fever rushed over her exposed skin again. Their brief pause hadn’t diminished her body’s reaction, but the way he asked her questions had smothered her freak-out. Nerves still danced in her chest, but they were the good kind. He studied her face as though trying to decide if she was ready for more. He was careful with her. Her heart swelled.

“Sit up, sweetheart.”

She propped up for him and shut her eyes.

He tied the silk mask over her eyes. “How’s that feel?”

She nodded. “Good. I can’t see anything.”

Camden eased her back to the bed. “You worried?”

Laughing, she cataloged her feelings.Worried? No. Anticipating? Absolutely.But her laughter fell away when he took the other wrist and kissed her palm. No one had ever kissed her like that. No one ever took the time to explore and check on her.

“Not worried,” she whispered.

His tongue traced the lines on her hand. “Then what are you?”

Her eyes pinched shut despite the blindfold. “Vulnerable.”

The soft kisses paused. Camden squeezed her wrist possessively before his tongue rolled over her palm again. Herlong sigh was a mix of hunger and faith. Her need roared louder than her uncertainties. Trust was a drug.

He set her hand by her side. She tried to guess what would come next. He might remove her bra and underwear. He might kiss her. The possibilities were endless.

The bed shifted under his weight. Camden cupped his hands over her biceps, slid up to her shoulders and behind her back, and unfastened her bra. The fabric loosened. Her nipples perked with the chill of being exposed. The wetness between her legs intensified. She wanted his touch, his tongue. She wanted to search his chiseled face for what he needed but could only lie at his mercy.

Camden palmed her breasts. The symmetrical massage cleared her mind. Intense sensations ricocheted through her. Amelia arched for more.

“So fucking beautiful.” The rough pads of his thumbs teased her nipples. “Perked and swollen, reaching for me.”

Her breath skittered. His attention moved to her left breast, using one hand to play as the other slid south. A rush of need trailed his touch. Her hips wriggled. Camden hooked one side of her underwear and pulled it down her legs. The soft fabric scratched her thighs and caught on her knees. He snaked them away, then she was naked, blindfolded, and exposed.

Her toes pointed and flexed. Amelia rocked her hips. She could sense everything and still not have a clue what would happen next.

“Want to know what I see?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure of the answer, but she nodded. “Please.”

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