Chapter 65: A Cunning Plan
Cameron’s P.O.V
I pull into my driveway well past the hour I was supposed to be home, my mind still fogged from the late shower at Edmund’s office and the endless, winding roads that led me here. The night is quiet when I step through the front door, but something feels off—a faint sound that sets my nerves on edge. As I make my way down the hall, I catch soft moans drifting from the bedroom. My heart stutters. For a moment, I wonder if Elyse brought someone home. The thought twists inside me like a knot.
I reach the bedroom and push open the door. The light from the bedside lamp illuminates a scene that stops me cold. There, sprawled naked on the bed, is Elyse. His eyes are half-closed in a haze of pleasure, his body trembling as he pleasures himself with desperate, uneven strokes. The sight makes me stagger. I pause in the doorway, trying to process it all—until a new wave of heat surges through me.
“Elyse?” I call softly, more in concern than accusation. My voice is thick with worry, but his response is lost to the soft sounds of his own moans. I step further into the room, my mind churning with conflicting thoughts. It’s obvious—Elyse is in rut. I can see it in the feverish flush of his skin, in the way his breath hitches as he rides his own pleasure. Yet, surprisingly, he doesn’t seem to incite me into heat like I’d expected. There something hollow inside of me that seems completely unaffected by the sounds of his pleasure or the scent of his heightened pheromones.
I lean against the doorframe, watching him with a mix of concern and something else—a calculated opportunity, perhaps. In a part of my mind, a wild, scheming thought flickers: if things go the way I suspect, if I can help him now, I might even get a little something in return. Especially if—God help me—if I end up pregnant with Edmund’s seed. The thought is absurd and dangerous, but tonight, everything feels unhinged.
Before I can decide what to do, Elyse’s eyes snap open. In a haze, he fixes his gaze on me, his expression a confusing mix of need and vulnerability. Without a word, he crawls off the bed, unsteady yet driven by raw, animalistic desire. Suddenly, he pulls himself toward me, reaching out with trembling hands. His lips crash against mine in a wild, hasty kiss that leaves no room for doubt: he needs me—now.
“Cam… help me,” he gasps against my mouth, his tone pleading and rough. His fingers claw at my shirt, desperate to get closer, to feel something real in this night of intoxication and muddled feelings.
“Elyse, look at me. Let me help you,” I say softly, my hands caressing his arms, trying to reassure him. I lean in again, our lips colliding in a kiss that’s rougher this time, driven by his need and my own arousal.
He breaks our kiss with a sharp inhale. “Cam… please,” he begs, his eyes half-lidded with need, “I need you to… to make me feel something—anything.” His voice wavers between desperation and an almost sad acceptance as if he’s resigned to this state of constant yearning.
Elyse’s touch on my body is familiar yet savored in a way I’ve never felt before. Every caress feels deliberate, every kiss loaded with a hunger that goes beyond the ordinary. I can smell the alcohol on his breath—a heady mix of cheap whiskey and regret—and it only fuels the fire burning between us. In this blurred moment, everything seems possible.
“Elyse,” I murmur as I trace a finger along one of the fading love bites on my chest—a mark I once hid away, a secret symbol of my past passions with Edmund. Tonight, I find myself thinking, with a mischievous glint in my eyes, that I no longer need to conceal those marks. In fact, I want more. I want Elyse to add to them, to leave his indelible print on my skin so that he would think that all the marks on my skin, the old and new, were all his doing.
Elyse’s eyes flutter open slowly, his gaze meeting mine with a raw vulnerability. “Cam… I…” he begins, his voice rough and unsteady from both desire and too many drinks.
I press closer, our bodies aligning in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. “Shh,” I say softly, “don’t speak. Let me feel you.” My words, heavy with longing, are punctuated by the quiet thud of our hearts in tandem.
He trails his hand down my arm, his other hand tangling in my hair as he yanks my head back and licks down the column of my neck, and I let out a small, approving hum. “You’re treating me like I never belonged to anyone before,” I confess, my tone playful yet sincere. “I like it. I love the way you savor every inch of me.”
Elyse’s hand hesitates momentarily near the line of my love bites, those tender bruises I once carefully concealed beneath my shirt. “Cam, do you… do you want me to…?” His question is tentative, laced with both concern and anticipation.
I smile, a slow, knowing grin that comes from deep inside. “I want you to show me, Elyse,” I reply in a low, husky tone. “I want you to mark me, to claim me. Let’s not hide anything tonight. I want to see those love bites grow—proof of your passion for me.”
He inhales sharply, the mix of alcohol and raw desire making his eyes glisten. “You really mean that?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re ready for all of it?”
“Absolutely,” I murmur, my hand finding his taut nipples to give them a small squeeze—a silent invitation. “I want you Elyse. I want you to fuck me like you’ve never fucked me before. I want you to touch every inch of me, make love like we’re the only people in this world.”
Elyse’s fingers tighten on my skin, and he presses a series of heated kisses along my collarbone, gradually making his way toward my chest. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of doing this,” he confesses, his words barely audible over the soft sounds of our mingled breaths. “I want you so badly…I want you now...”
I push aside any lingering hesitation as I watch Elyse, still trembling from the intensity of our earlier struggle, pull himself up onto the bed. I smile to myself, feeling a wild mix of relief and desire as I drop my clothes one by one. Tonight, nothing else matters but this raw, unfiltered connection.
“Come on,” Elyse murmurs, his voice rough and laden with an urgency I’ve rarely heard before. His eyes, glazed by desire and the remnants of intoxication, search mine with a pleading intensity that sends shivers down my spine. I step closer, drawn in by his vulnerability and the undeniable heat that radiates from him.
Without further preamble, I climb onto the bed beside him. The cool sheets contrast with the burning heat of our skin as I let my hand trail along his arm. “I’ve missed this,” I whisper, my tone both tender and laced with mischief. “I’ve missed you.”
Elyse’s eyes close for a split second as he tilts his head to capture my lips in a deep, hungry kiss. It’s a kiss that promises indulgence and an escape from the tangled mess of emotions we both carry. His hands reach for me, and soon we are tangled together in a fervor that’s as desperate as it is passionate.
As our kisses deepen, I feel the familiar thrill building inside me—an exhilarating anticipation that mixes with the lingering taste of alcohol on his breath. I savor the way Elyse’s lips trail down my neck, his tongue flicking over sensitive skin as if trying to memorize every inch of me. “You’re different tonight,” I murmur between kisses, my voice husky. “So raw… so intense.”
He lets out a soft groan, his fingers threading through my hair as he answers, “I can’t explain it, Cam. I feel like I’m burning up from the inside. I’m… I’m in a rut, and I need you. I need you to make me feel alive.”