I’m sitting on the couch, watching a horror movie when Camden comes down the steps. I glance up from the couch and my eyes bug out when I see he isn’t wearing shirt and only grey sweatpants that hang low on his defined hips, showing a perfectly carved V that I know leads to a very big cock.
I’m not sure what to focus on. His pecs, curved and muscular, or his abs, all eight of them, or the way his cock swings against the thin grey fabric as he comes down the steps.
My eyes lock onto the bulge and a million different scenarios run through my head. I’ve never sucked a cock, but I bet his would taste good. I want to curl my fingers around the elastic waistband and pull the sweatpants down and suck the crown between my lips.
Once I get a good rhythm, maybe he would take control and fuck my face.
Camden has ruined me for anyone else and I haven’t even had him yet.
“Nothing like a good shower after a long day,” he says, jumping over the couch and landing right next to me.
“Hmm? What?” I don’t hear him. My blood rushing mutes my ability to hear anything else.
“The shower. Felt good.”
“Oh, yeah. I know right,” I toss a handful of popcorn in my mouth and look toward the tv.
My heart is pounding in my chest and my panties are so wet I’m debating on excusing myself to go take care of the desire building up, nearly making me whimper right here on the couch without a single touch. I don’t know how much more I can take.
“So, what have you been up to? You just turned eighteen, right?” Is he fishing for more information?
I nod and the movement causes the sleeve of my sweater to fall down my shoulder more. “I go to school in fall. I’m staying local.”
“Why is that?”
“I never wanted to leave home like Mason.”
“My son has always wanted to chase everything the world has to offer. What do you think keeps you here?”
You. I want to say, but I tuck my knees to my chest and turn my head, laying my cheek against my leg. “I’m not sure, but something in me is telling me to stay.”
“It’s good to listen to your instincts,” he throws his arm over the couch, his fingers almost touching the curve of my neck. Almost.
That’s when I noticed a tattoo on the side of his ribs I have never seen before. It’s a phrase, maybe in Latin, but I have no idea what it says. I bounce on the couch to turn to him and smile, my hands fly to his ribs, an excuse just to touch him. I need to touch him.
“What’s this? Is this new?”
He hisses and I jerk my hands back. “Sorry.”
“No, it isn’t that. It’s fine.”
Pinching my brows I trace the lettering with my finger. “What’s it mean?” “If you look close enough, you’ll see it.”
I rip my eyes from his tattoo and meet his hard stare. His chest is rising and falling and his pupils are dilated. When I checkout the rest of his body, that’s when I notice his pants tenting.
Is he reacting to me?
“Do you have a boyfriend, Amelia?”
I shake my head, staring at the elegant ink embedded in his skin. I love how he feels beneath my fingertips. “No, no boyfriend.”
“Why? You’re a beautiful woman. I bet you have a ton of guys lining up to date you.”
“None of them are what I want,” I shrug a shoulder and his hand that is on the couch gets closer and his finger caress down the curve of my neck. I act like I don’t notice, because if I do, I’m afraid this moment will stop.
“Why is that?” his voice is low, ending in a rasp that is different than his regular voice.
“They are boys. They don’t know what they want. I know what I want and being a notch on a bedpost isn’t what I’m looking.”
“Did someone do that to you?” his hands grab my shoulders as he brings me closer to his face. “Who?” the expression on his face can only be explained as murderous. The lines at the corner of his mouth show from the frown gracing his lips and his nearly crystal clear eyes take on a dark stormy appearance.
“No one. It’s not like that. I know that is what they want from me, but I’m never going to be that for them. I want a man, not a boy learning to be a man.” I curl my fingers around his forearms, and they are so wide, my fingers don’t even touch. “I promise. I’m okay.” I put my forehead against his and slide my palms down his arms. The hair tickles form how course it is. His biceps are firm and I trace the ropes of muscles, thick and hard.
Perfection.
His sighs, his breath ghosting over my lips. Camden is a true master the art of seduction and I want to be his student. Teach me. Please me. Do what you want with me.
“You are dangerous, Amelia.”
“Why?” I whisper and he inches closer. All that is left is an inch of space. One of us needs to move.
One of us needs to say, “fuck it” and end this torment. One. More. Inch.
I can feel the warmth of his lips. He is that close now. I’m panting. A mixture of nerves and anticipation. Instead of kissing me, he dips his head down and glides his nose down my neck. His body trembles beneath my touch, hot puffs of his breath heat my skin.
“I’ve never kissed a man before,” I admit, hating that those, out of all the words I can pick, fall from my mouth.
He leans back, putting more distance than I want between us. I look at him with confusion, taking in his body. He is reacting to me. This isn’t in my head. His cock is hard and sheen of sweat shines on his chest. “Are you a virgin, Amelia?”
Suddenly, his question makes me feel shameful. Tears prickle my eyes and I hop off the couch, pulling my sweater back over my shoulder. “I need to go. Um, yeah, I’m just going to-” I don’t finish my thought. I run from him, putting as much distance I can between me, the virgin, and the much holder, experienced man.
“Amelia! Wait. Stop!” he shouts, a deep commanding tone that stops me in my tracks when I get up the stairs.
His weight creaks the steps as he climbs up them. The closer and louder the groans of the wood get, the closer he gets to me.
“Turn around and look at me.”
My body is hot, alive, and sensitive from the tension on the couch, but my mind is thinking for me now. I shake my head and run toward my door before his hand can land on my shoulder. Slamming the door, I sit on my bed and take a deep breath, calming my sporadic nerves.
I close my eyes and cover my face with my hands. I made myself look like a fool, but it doesn’t stop how my body is ramped up and my pussy is still on fire. I reach into the drawer and grab my vibrator.
I got undressed, ignoring the knocks on the door, and slid the girthy purple sex toy over my folds, turning the vibration on to the highest level. I need relief and I need it now.
Of course, a naked Camden enters my mind and I moan. “Amelia?”
I ignore him again, dipping the crown of the fake cock in my virgin hole. It slides in easily since I’m so wet. I’m frustrated, angry, and horny. If I wasn’t a virgin, I bet I’d have a chance. And now I’m just left with the fantasies of Camden, fucking myself with the toy that I wished was Camden’s cock.
I forget where I am, screaming his name at the top of my lungs as my orgasm comes out of nowhere, but it isn’t enough to put out the fire in my veins.
I flip over and ride the purple cock, imaging Camden beneath me, my nails raking down his chest, leaving my mark because he is mine. He is always supposed to be mine.
I cup my breasts, twisting my nipples with my fingers, and another orgasm builds. I bite my lip, readying to fly with endorphins when my door breaks down. Wood flies across the room and I yelp, trying to find something to cover my body with when Camden is standing in the doorway.
Fists clench.
Tented pants.
And an expression in his eyes that can only be explained as lust.