[Kendall]
Camden's still wearing a pair of sweats, and I tug them down with one hand, freeing his cock. It bobs up around my mouth, already half-hard, thick and throbbing in my grip. A groan escapes his throat as I wrap my fingers around his base, feeling his pulse beneath my touch.
I'm not all that experienced with sex, but I've given head to my ex-boyfriend about a hundred times. He had always preferred it to sex. It occurs to me now, as Camden's cock hardens against my palm, that my ex was a real asshole. But I didn't realize that at the time.
With Camden, I feel safe. I feel… powerful. I feel like he's watching my every move, waiting for each touch, each lick, each slide of my lips around him. So, I wrap my lips around his cock, savoring the salty taste as I take him deeper into my mouth, sucking gently, letting my tongue drag along his length.
His hips jerk up beneath me, one hand gripping the wheel, the other tangling in my hair, guiding me down. I can still feel pieces of glass prickling my scalp from earlier, but I don't care. The slick, heavy feel of him in my mouth is making me ache between my thighs, soaking through my panties.
Watching him handle danger so deftly, seeing how utterly in control he is… it's making me wet.
Camden is all man, raw and dominant, and I'm realizing now how perfect he truly is. Each moment, every touch, it only deepens my crush on him. The feeling grows fierce, unstoppable.
He thrusts up again, deeper this time, gagging me just a little, his cock pressing down the back of my throat. When I choke around him, he lets out a guttural groan, pulling my hair tighter, rougher.
"I'm close," he grunts, his voice low and rough. I hollow my cheeks, sucking harder, and let myself go loose, letting him control me, guide me. Each pulse of him against my tongue has me trembling.
A deep, ragged moan tears from him as he thrusts forward, spilling hot and thick cum down my throat. I swallow around him, savoring the salty, musky taste, smiling as I pull back, tossing my hair back over my shoulder.
"Jesus Christ," Camden says, his voice shaky. I glance up and realize we're barely driving twenty miles an hour down a deserted country road.
I giggle, a little breathless, the sound high and girlish. Camden's gaze locks onto me, his eyes dark with something between hunger and satisfaction. "Too bad I can't return the favor."
"You can when we get there," I purr, a boldness slipping into my tone that surprises me. I feel more wanton than I ever have before, my confidence bolstered by the look on his face.
"Bet on it," he growls, pulling off onto another winding road.
I doze off, lulled by the rumble of the engine and the lingering taste of him on my lips. By the time we arrive at the safehouse, I wake to Camden opening my door, his hand shaking me gently.
"We're here, principessa," he murmurs, his voice soft, warm. I take his hand, yawning as he helps me climb out of the truck.
He grabs the duffel bag, keys jingling as he heads inside. The safehouse is small, secluded, just one story, nestled somewhere upstate. It's smaller than my father's house, simple but safe.
"I know it's small," Camden says, and I shake my head.
"Better than getting killed," I reply, and he laughs, the sound deep, rolling through my chest.
"Fair enough. There's only one bed."
I grin, feeling a thrill course through me. "Fine with me. Don't you owe me one?" I strip off the T-shirt I've been wearing, revealing my bare skin, feeling his eyes rake over me.
Camden groans, muttering a curse under his breath. He drops the duffel bag and sweeps me up in his arms, my heart pounding wildly. He's so strong, his biceps bulging as he carries me effortlessly toward the bedroom.
"You're kind of a bad girl, principessa," he murmurs, his gaze hungry, dark. He tosses me onto the bed, and I bounce, my breasts bare, pebbled in the cool air.
He yanks down my shorts, revealing my bare, dripping pussy, and leans down, nipping the edge of my ass until I squeak and laugh, the sound breathless, desperate. I feel lighter, giddier than I've been in a long time, even with the danger hanging over us.
"Not as bad as you," I tease, but then I can't speak anymore because Camden's mouth is against my pussy, hot and demanding.
His tongue circles my clit, each lap slow, agonizing, building me up until I'm writhing. Two fingers slide inside me, stretching me, his knuckles brushing my sensitive walls as he arches his fingers up, pressing against that sweet spot that has my back arching off the bed.
"Oh, Camden!" I cry, my voice breaking as he buries his face between my thighs, lapping at my clit. My hips buck against him, driven by a need I can't control, can't deny.
"You're so tight around me, bad girl," he growls against my slick folds, his breath hot against my skin. "You love having something stretch you out, don't you?"
"Yes," I breathe, my voice barely a whisper, "I want more. I need more."
"Of course you do," he mutters, his tone dark, possessive. His lips latch onto my clit, sucking hard, and the pressure in my stomach coils, tighter, tighter, until I'm shattering, pleasure tearing through me in waves, my cries filling the room.
I gasp, pulling in air, my body limp, throbbing, the aftershocks of my orgasm rippling through me.
Fuck.