Page 65 of The Story of Me
“I want your cock inside me, Cam.”
“In your arse?”
“No, no fucking way is that fucking thing going in my arse!” I hear him chuckle, but as I turn to look at him over my shoulder and our eyes meet, the laughing stops. The atmosphere in the room changes.
“Turn over, Kitten. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you naked.” My stomach and my heart do what feels like a synchronised flutter at his words and I have a moment of panic. I was twenty when he last sawme naked. I’m thirty-two now. I have scars that he’s never seen. I’m not as perfect as he once thought I was and I wonder what he’ll think now.
Before I get a chance to turn over, he pulls away from me and goes into the bathroom. I hear water running and the sound of him washing his hands.
“Turn over, Kitten. I want you on your back when I walk in there,” he calls out. How the fuck does he know I haven’t moved yet? I turn onto my back and lay so I’m the right way around on the bed. He heads out of the bathroom and towards me, stopping at the end of the bed. He stands and looks at me. He’s totally naked and so comfortable and confident in himself, and so he should be. I have no idea how often he works out, but it must be a lot; he’s got to be around forty-two now, but he is the image of absolute physical perfection. His shoulders are broad, his arms toned. He has a six-pack that’s perfectly defined and that V thing that I don’t know the name of, but love all the same. His cock is hard. It’s sticking up, long and thick, and I try not to stare too long and instead move my eyes back up to his face.
“Open your legs, Kitten. Bend your knees and open your legs.” I do as he asks and he stares silently at me for a few seconds. He then kneels at the end of the bed before moving up my body and covering me with his. He holds himself up on his elbows, resting his forehead against mine. I close my eyes and breathe him in. He smells unmistakably of Cam. After all these years, I would still be able to pick out his scent anywhere.
He gently pulls at my bottom lip, trapping it between his teeth. He lets go and his tongue flicks inside my mouth. I moan as he kisses me so gently. He’s so big and dominant, alpha and intimidating, that his gentleness almost reduces me to tears. His mouth moves away from mine and I open my eyes; they stare straight into his.
“I’m going to taste you now, Kitten, all of you. I want to hear you moan and call my name. I want you to tell me when you can’t take any more and then I’m going to slide inside and fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.”
He kisses me, from my lips, to my chin and down my throat, he kisses down my cleavage and then takes my boobs in each of his big hands and pushes them together. His tongue, his teeth and his thumbs, lick, bite and stroke each of my nipples. He then works his way down, flicking his tongue inside my belly button. His hands hold on to my hips and he tilts them up towards him. His thumb brushes over the small round scar on my left side I have from the surgery for my ectopic pregnancy. He looks down at my belly. He kisses the scar and then plants little kisses all the way along the long thin scar that crosses my bikini line left by my other surgery. When he finishes with his kisses, he looks up at me.
“I wish I could kiss away the pain, Kitten. I wish there was a way I could make this better for you.” I let out a small sob as I stroke his face because I know that he would. I have every faith that this man would do everything in his power to make things different. “The best I can do is make you forget for a little while.” He moves further down and flicks his tongue over my clit. He tilts my hips higher and pushes his tongue inside me, and my fingers claw at his scalp.
“God, Cam, fuck.” His tongue switches from inside me to twirling and flicking over my clit before he spears me with it again. He bites me gently on the inside of my thigh and I let out a sound that’s almost a growl as I pull on his hair. He laughs and looks up at me.
“Fuck, Kitten, I love those noises you make.” The light from the lamp causes the whiskers on his chin to glisten where it’s wet with my juices. It was something I used to love to see and nothing’s changed. He licks and sucks me again as I rock my hips into him. I try and move so his fingers slide inside me, but he moves them away, which just makes me move more. My toes are curling, I need him inside me desperately and I know the only way that’s going to happen is if I ask. He bites and sucks on my thigh again and looks up as he says, “You taste so fucking good, Kitten, so fucking good.” I push his hair back off his face and look him in the eye. I don’t know what he sees as he looks up my body and into my eyes, but he gives his head a small shake and says very quietly, “I love the fuck out of you, Kitten. You have the power to destroy me, please don’t?”
I shake my head. “I fucking love the fuck out of you, Tiger. I want and need you inside me. Please make love to me.” His eyes close for a long moment and then he slides up my body. He covers me with his big frame, cocoons and cages me in his big, safe arms as he slides inside me. Our bodies are damp and slick with perspiration. We glisten as the light from the lamp catches us at the right angle, and as I look over his face when he looks over my body, I feel a sense of peace come over me. I’ve no idea what causes it. I don’t know if it’s because Cam has always had the ability to make me feel safe or if it’s just the fact that I feel so comfortable and at home with him. Either way, it feels good and it’s not something I want to lose, ever.
He slides and rocks his hips against mine, slowly at first, but as I respond and wrap my legs around him tighter, his thrusts grow with more urgency. I claw at his back and bum cheeks.
“Fuck, Kitten, I love watching your tits move as I fuck you.” He leans down and captures my right nipple in his teeth. I’ve never thought my nipples were that sensitive, but the sensation of his teeth and the little spear of pain are apparently enough to have me reaching for my orgasm, and once again, so many emotions come to the surface as I arch my back and cling on.
“Love me, Cam, please. Forgive me and just try and love me. Even though I don’t deserve you, I want you. I need you so much.” I throw my head back, making a loud “ahhhh” sound as I do, followed by another noise that comes from deep within my chest, possibly directly from my heart. I have no control over it. My limbs feel heavy, too heavy for my muscles and bone to hold up as my orgasm rolls through me, over and over again. My insides spasm as my internal muscles tighten around him. He pushes himself up on his arms and looks down at me.
“We’ve got this. We’ve got this, Kitten. We’ll make this work if it fucking kills us.” All I can do is nod, incapable of speech as I feel him throb and release inside me.
Chapter Nineteen
I wake to a dark bedroom and an empty bed. I stretch and look around for a clock so I can see what the time is. My body clock is all over the place still from the jet lag and I’ve no idea if it’s morning or night. I get up and head for the shower. I feel like I’ve spent a week working out at the gym, even my fingernails ache.
I wash as quickly as possible. The shower is where I usually do my thinking, and right now, I really don’t want to be thinking too much.
I’m in love. I’m in love with Cam and all I want to do is enjoy it. I don’t want to think and overthink the rights and the wrongs of our relationship. I don’t want to feel guilty for being in love. I want just a little bit of time off from feeling sad. I just don’t want to be sad, for a little while at least.
I find a clean T-shirt and a pair of boxers in Cam’s walk-in wardrobe and put them on. I find a comb and run it through my hair, and then put it up in a bun. It’s a mess and needs washing but I can’t take a chance with Cam’s shampoo. It’ll probably end up a frizzy mess if I use his blokey stuff. I once again clean my teeth with his toothbrush and head downstairs; I come to a halt halfway down when I see two women I don’t know in the kitchen, one is cooking, one is sitting at the breakfast bar, typing on a laptop computer.
I look them over as I try to work out who they could be. The woman cooking has her back to me. She has short blonde hair. I can’t tell any more than that. The woman sitting on the stool though, I have a clear view of. She’s also blonde. She looks a little younger than me. She’s dressed in business wear and it’s not cheap. I know for a fact her shoes are Louboutin and the handbag sitting on the floor next to her is from this year’s Fendi collection. I may have spent a year consumed with grief, but I still knew my fashion.
The woman turns around with what looks like a huge frying pan filled with scrambled eggs and her bright blue eyes immediately connect with mine. She looks across to the other woman who still hasn’t noticed me. I take the last few steps down the stairs as the older woman says, “Good morning. Cameron didn’t tell me he had a guest. I’m sorry if I woke you.” Her tone is friendly and her smile seems genuine. She looks about sixty and very attractive, in a no-nonsense sort of way.
I hate that I’m blushing so much. I feel like I’ve been caught red handed doing something I shouldn’t and I try not to dwell on that thought too much. I smile, probably looking a little sheepish, or just plain guilty as thoughts of what we did last night run through my dirty mind. God, that man can fuck.
Before I get another chance to speak, the younger woman says, “Cam didn’t tell me either. I’m sorry, but who are you exactly?” Her tone is entirely different and she stands up from the stool she was sitting on and folds her arms across her chest as she looks me up and down. She doesn’t like me. I know that instantly, women rarely do. It’s just something I learned to live with as Sean’s wife. Other women rarely gave me a chance. They just instantly disliked me, simply because they saw me as a threat or competition, which of course I wasn’t as they never stood a chance with my husband anyway.
I look her over, the same way she’s looking at me. I may be standing barefoot in a Duffer T-shirt that’s ten sizes too big and a pair of Calvin Klein boxers that I’ve rolled over three times at the top so I can keep them up, and she may be standing in her beautifully tailored Versace dress, but I refuse to be intimidated by her. She actually looks older than me, now that I can see her more clearly, and she has a lot of makeup on. Her striking green eyes are narrowed and on me. I turn and smile back at the older woman.
“I’m Georgia. No, you didn’t wake me up.” She tilts her head as I’m talking.
“Well, good morning, Georgia. I’m Marian and you are absolutely stunning, darling. Come and sit down. Would you like some coffee?”
