Redeeming You (Before You #2)(32)
She couldn’t claim to be a connoisseur of naked men, but the few she’d seen didn’t have anything on Cam. Long, lean, perfectly sculpted muscles in all the right places: she couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. Then her eyes landed on the tattoo near his hip; a small black guitar formed from intricate music notes. A shiver of anticipation raced through her body as she thought about licking every little detail of that tattoo and beyond.
No more waiting. She grabbed him by his arm and pulled him on top of her. His eyes sparkling wickedly, he looked at her as he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth while he teased the other nipple, gently rolling it between his fingertips. Her body was instantly achy and throbbing again and she wanted to scream with frustration. She was so close and she didn’t want to go again without him inside of her. “Now, Cam, please.”
Pressing against her entrance, he slid his hard length back and forth until she was an incoherent mess of need. She wrapped her legs around his waist trying to force him inside her, but he held back.
“Condom,” he muttered, his hand searching the disheveled bedding next to her body until he located the square package and tore it open with his teeth.
Taylor exhaled loudly, trying to calm her senses as she watched him roll the condom over his hard length. At least Cam was thinking because five seconds ago she hadn’t even given a condom another thought. Stupid.
When he finished, he braced himself over her body, his hands on either side of her head as he pushed inside her with small, shallow strokes, slowly working his way deeper, stretching her. It was absolutely delicious and agonizingly slow all wrapped up together to create a pleasurable form of torture, but she wanted more. She didn’t know what that meant, but apparently her body did.
“More,” she pleaded, bowing her hips.
Capturing her wrists with one hand, he pinned them over her head. Her eyes opened studying his. She didn’t like being restrained. It reminded of her mom locking her in a dark, cramped stairwell closet for hours unable to move, breathing in dust and mildew, but when she saw the heated, almost visceral look in his eyes like he wanted her more than anything in the world in that moment, her body relaxed. Cam wouldn’t hurt her—well, not physically anyway. Her heart was another matter.
“Are you okay?” he muttered as he paused, his vivid blue eyes searching hers.
She smiled, trying to reassure him. “Better than okay,” she whispered because at that instant she was. Cam made her feel better, safer and happier than she could remember being in a long time. Maybe that made her stupid, but she didn’t care. She survived everything life had thrown at her so far and, good or bad, she’d survive this too.
Hitching one of her legs over his shoulder, his thrusts slowly grew faster, deeper, and harder until she understood exactly what more meant. The angle made every nerve in her body come alive. He released her hands and she wrapped her arms around his back trying to pull him closer to her, into her, until every part of his body touched hers, inside and out.
Moaning, she teetered on the edge, her body begging for release even as her orgasm skittered just out of reach. His movements were beautifully coordinated and synchronized just like his fingertips moving over the strings of his guitar. And then, his hips circled—just a small wickedly teasing motion that hit the perfect spot and she screamed as an orgasm ripped through her body, the pleasure so acute she couldn’t think of anything else as almost violent spasms gripped her body. Her nails dug into his back, marking him physically just as he had marked her emotionally. Cursing, he thrust into her one, two, three more times before groaning and collapsing on top of her.
After a few minutes, she could finally think again and she tangled her fingers in the damp hair curling at the nape of his neck as she listened to the symphony of their hearts beating against each other. Thousands of thoughts collided in her mind as she came to terms with what just happened. She hadn’t been with many men in her life; one in high school and her ex who she’d rather not think of again, but she’d never experienced anything resembling what happened between her and Cam. With Cam still buried inside her, she didn’t want to move. It felt amazing to be tucked in his arms, as close as one person could be to another person physically and, in some ways, emotionally. This was new. Intimacy wasn’t her thing, but she could get used to it.
Cam made love like he played his guitar—passionately, creatively and with swoon worthy attention to detail, erasing every last one of her inhibitions and reservations. It was glorious, but also alarming. Alarming because it was only a matter of time before her heart craved more. No, who was she kidding? She already craved more and Cam had made it clear that he didn’t have any more to give.
She whimpered as the alarm coursing through her body morphed into panic. She’d spent her entire life hardening her heart, promising herself that she’d never let anyone hurt her again, but here she was, lying beneath Cam, achingly vulnerable, exposed and without any walls to protect her. This wouldn’t work. She wasn’t cut out to be one of Cam’s groupies and Cam hadn’t promised her anything—not a single damn thing except fun. Getting her heart ripped out didn’t sound like fun. Fuck.
Claustrophobia closed in, her breathing, calm only seconds earlier, accelerated again, heaving at a maddening pace. She needed to get out of there. She needed space. The shadows of the room suddenly felt as though they would swallow her whole and carry her back to that dark, life-draining vacuum of her childhood.