Crazy about Cameron: The Winslow Brothers #3(53)

He paused only for a moment before closing the distance between them and falling to his knees on the floor in front of her.

“I’m going to give this everything I’ve got, Margaret. I promise you will never regret inviting me into your heart.” He reached up to clutch her head almost roughly, his eyes searching hers.

Before she could reassure him that she had no fears about the safety of her heart, he lunged forward and pulled her head forward so that his lips landed flush on hers and their teeth clashed together. He was demanding and hungry, the pressure of his palm on the back of her head making it impossible for her to move. Her only choice was total submission to his appetite . . . or matching him in frenzied enthusiasm.

She reached for his face, her nails curling instinctively into his flesh as she leaned forward, falling into him. Cameron fell back onto the floor and pulled her on top of his body, sliding his hands from her hair to her back. He caressed and kneaded her naked skin, groaning into her mouth as she pushed at the edge of his shirt, desperate to feel his bare chest pushing into hers. He reached back and pulled the shirt over his head, breaking their kiss only for a moment before pulling her lips back to his.

Margaret rubbed her breasts against his chest, and Cameron deepened their kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth. She whimpered from the competing sensations and pulled away to look at his face.

Cameron’s eyes, which were almost predatory, dropped deliberately to her exposed breasts, then back up. Holding her eyes, he jackknifed his body into a sitting position, with Margaret straddling his lap, then dipped his head and sucked one pebbled nipple between his lips.

As one hand held her captive breast in place, his other arm slipped around her back, trapping her in place. She arched back against his arm, but his lips followed her movements, sucking strongly on her turgid flesh. Just as she thought she’d die from the intensity of the sensation, he switched hands and arms, taking her other nipple into his mouth and circling it with his tongue before alternating between hard and gentle sucking.

She threw her head back and moaned, the pressure building in her core so that she writhed on his lap. As her pelvis slammed into his, his lips went slack, and he groaned, the hum of his lips tantalizing against the painfully aroused skin of her breast.

So she did it again.

She arched her back and slammed her sex against his. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the feeling of his erection, pressed intimately against the valley between her thighs and already throbbing for release.

“Mmnh,” grunted Cameron, his hand landing on her jaw, his thumb stroking her lips.

Margaret parted her lips, and his thumb slipped between them. She laved it with her tongue, teasing him gently before pursing her lips around it and sucking it into her mouth so hard that her cheeks caved in.

“Christ!” groaned Cameron, tightening his arm around her back and sliding her up into the very apex of his thighs, where his throbbing erection pushed insistently into her sex.

It was Margaret’s turn to moan, her lips dropping open as he thrust his hardness against her softness, dry-f*cking her to wetness. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her breasts against his chest as he rolled his hips to press his erection intimately into her. Once, twice, three times, and her clit ached for more, the pressure built from his attention to her breasts and now with every upward thrust of his hips.

“Meggie,” he panted.

She opened her eyes.

“I want you naked,” he demanded. “In bed.”

She slid off his lap and stood up, her legs almost buckling as Cameron lurched to his knees and reached for the button and zipper of her jeans.

“Remember my fantasy?”

“The one . . . in the elevator?”

“I told you, baby,” he said, unzipping her fly, “the location was irrelevant.”

With one yank, he pulled her jeans and panties past her knees and bared her sex to him. She gasped, staring down at his black, wavy hair until he leaned back and looked up at her with stormy, starving eyes.

Using his thumbs, he parted the soft folds of her flesh, baring her clit. She fought to keep her eyes open, staring at him as she panted, her small breasts moving up and down with every shallow breath.

“You are a f*cking miracle to me.”

Margaret’s neck fell back as his hot breath made contact with her sensitive, exposed flesh.

“Ahhn,” she whimpered, bracing her hands on the bed behind her and unconsciously widening her legs to give him passage and permission. She trembled as she waited, her whole body rigid and poised for that first exquisite touch of tongue to flesh.

Slowly, so slowly, his tongue lapped at her skin, pausing briefly on the distended bud of throbbing nerves. He groaned, the hum of his deep voice against her quivering flesh making her gasp, Ohgodohgod, in a shameless litany. Her fingers curled into the bedspread as he did it again and again, his tongue licking so slowly, she feared he would pause or—please, please no—stop entirely, and the anticipation made the pleasure that much stronger when his tongue started moving again, slowly loving her, until she thought she’d die from needing release, from needing him to take her all the way to heaven.

Just when she was sure she couldn’t take anymore, his tongue slid directly over her clit and paused there. She trembled with anticipation when his thumbs slid away so that his hands could cup her backside and hold her steady as he clamped his lips around her clit and sucked it into his mouth.