The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(75)
I nod. “That’s not a problem. You’ve seen me fight; my brothers taught me. You’ve got a gun. With my right hook and your shooting skills, our problems won’t stand a chance.”
“It’s not gonna be easy.”
“Nothing worth fighting for ever is.” My belly gives a loud rumbling sound. “Let’s eat. Then we can talk some more.” I climb out of his lap and curl into the corner of a large red leather sofa. Cam reaches down the side and puts a soft, cream-coloured fur throw over me and gets up.
“Chinese okay?” he calls over his shoulder.
“Oh, yes, please, I’ve missed an English Chinese. I didn’t like the Chinese I had in Australia very much. They didn’t even sell chips or curry sauce.”
He shakes his head as he walks away from me, goes into the kitchen area and starts to rummage through a drawer. I take the opportunity to look around the room. It’s all sleek and modern in shades of red and cream, with the odd splash of black and a bit of chrome. The level that we’re on is completely open plan and consists of a living, dining and kitchen area. There’s a flight of stairs to my left and a huge floor-to-ceiling window in front of me that stretches across one whole side of the apartment. I’d really like to get up and look out at the view, but my legs still feel shaky and I still have adrenalin coursing through me, triggered by our intense little conversation.
This whole situation is giving my emotions whiplash as I crash into guilt, after bouncing off lust, then drown in sorrow. Every time I feel one thing, I’m floored by the way I’m catapulted into feeling another. I need someone to tell me it’s okay. I want someone to go ahead and say to me, “You know what, Georgia, it’s time. Grab this relationship with both hands and be happy. You’ve been through enough. It’s about time you had something good happen in your life,” but I’m not sure that I’m entitled to hear that from anyone. Do I deserve to be happy? Do I deserve to be in love or to be loved? I’m not sure that I do. I want to believe it, but I need to hear it from someone else. I need some time with Ash and Jimmie so they can help me out with this. There’s no doubt about my feelings for Cam. I’m sure of them. It’s more to do with living with myself and the guilt that being with him would bring me that I’m confused about.
I watch him as he walks back towards where I’m sitting, menu in one hand, phone in the other, his eyes on me. Every single cell I’m made from is affected by his presence. He calms me, but he makes my heart race. I want to run far away, but I want to wrap myself around him. He sets my belly on fire and gives my skin goose bumps. He sits down next to me, his outer thigh pressed against mine. He stretches his long legs out and puts them up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles.
“What would you like to order?” I feel lightheaded and it has nothing to do with the lack of food in my stomach. When we were together, Cam and I had the best sex. We’ve made slow, beautiful love together and we’ve f*cked hard and fast. I don’t think there was ever a time when I didn’t experience multiple orgasms thanks to his expert cock, fingers and tongue, but sitting here, now, fully dressed, with just the outside of our legs touching, I’m actually throbbing. My cheeks are burning both from arousal and embarrassment. I have no idea where it’s come from, but suddenly, I’m on the edge of an orgasm and I have no idea what has brought me to this state.
“Kitten, you okay?” I turn and look at him and saying nothing, I just move and straddle his lap. Raking my hands through his hair, I kiss him hard on the mouth and grind myself against him. He doesn’t kiss me back at first, but as I feel him grow hard through his jeans, I moan into his mouth.
“Oh, f*ck,” I hear him say and suddenly I’m under him. He pulls off my tracksuit bottoms and knickers in one go as I struggle with his belt and button fly, he takes over and says, “Tits, kitten, I wanna see your tits.” Instantly I’m hearing Sean’s voice telling me, ‘Love ya, Georgia Rae, show us your tits’ and I stop. Oh, God, what am I doing? I want this so badly, but I feel so wrong for doing what I’m doing.
“Don’t you stop this now. Don’t you dare f*cking stop this.” Cam looks down at me. “Stop thinking, Kitten, stop thinking. Close your eyes and just feel.” I unzip my jacket and he looks down at my chest, then back to my face, and suddenly, everything turns frantic again. He pushes my bra up and takes my right nipple in his mouth. He hasn’t touched me between the legs, but I know I’m wet enough when I feel him guide himself inside me. He’s still the biggest I’ve ever had and I wonder and worry for a moment if I’ll feel differently to him. I know I worried about it with Roman, but he didn’t know how I felt before my womb was ripped out. He only knew how I felt after. In my head, I imagine I feel hollow; that inside me there’s just a big empty space. I’ve not touched myself since my surgery, too scared to know the truth.
I enjoy the stretching sensation as he starts pushing in. It takes a couple of thrusts and he’s in to the hilt, and I don’t think he’s even going to have to move to have me coming.
“Fuck, Kitten,” he repeats, “I’ve waited too long for this, too f*cking long.” He slides his hands under my arse cheeks, tilts my hips and grinds into me.
“I love you, Cam. I love you so f*cking much. Fuck me, please. Get right inside me. Just you, I just want you, all of you inside me.” I don’t know if anything I’m saying is making sense. They’re just the words that are going around in my head and escaping from my mouth.