Kendall
He takes my ankles in his hands, slides them across his shoulder blades so that he can press his mouth closer against me, latch around my clit, sucking so hard I see stars.
“Oh, my god,” I gasp.
“Not god,” he says sharply. “Say my name, principessa.”
“Camden,” I manage, trying to breathe. “Camden, please…”
I trail off, still having some dignity, enough to be slightly embarrassed that I’m begging him.
“Please what, principessa?”
“Please make me come again,” I whisper, and he doesn’t waste any time, suckling on my clit and pumping his fingers still inside me.
I shudder all over when I come a third time, and then he removes his fingers, getting up on his knees and fumbling with his pants before shoving them down and freeing himself.
I’m so blissed out I can barely move but it turns out that I don’t have to. Camden flips me over onto my stomach, spreading my thighs with one of his.
“Ready, principessa?” he asks, and I’m not sure I am. I don’t know if I can come again without exploding, but Camden doesn’t seem to care.
He slides inside of me, slow, inch by inch, and I cry out, my moans muffled into the pillow.
Camden tugs on my hair enough to make me squeak, and licks across my neck. My squeak turns into a moan.
“Want to hear you, principessa. Don’t ever be quiet with me.”
I choke out a moan as he starts to roll his hips, torturously slowly. My fourth orgasm builds inside me slowly as he thrusts into me.
“God, oh god, Camden!” I cry out, almost a scream, as I come around his cock and Camden groans loudly.
“Principessa,” he moans. “Kendall.”
Then he pumps into me a few more times, his thrusts unsteady, and I feel him spill hot inside me.
I’m gasping for air against the pillow now that he’s dropped my head, and Camden kisses along my spine.
“Sorry, principessa,” he mumbles. “Wanted to make you mine. Wanted to remind you that you’re mine. Both of you.”
I blink, surprised, and roll over onto my side. Immediately, Camden slides up against me, putting his arms around me tightly.
“That baby in your belly makes you mine,” he says, just an edge of a slur to his voice.
“Yeah?” I ask, and he nods, burying his face against my neck. “You want me to be yours?”
“No,” he mutters, and I can tell he’s on the edge of falling asleep. My heart drops. “You’re already mine.”
His hand trails down to cup my pouch of a stomach, and my heart flips around in my chest instead of dropping to my toes.
“What does that mean?” I ask, but he’s already asleep, snoring lightly against my ear. I bite my lip. How am I going to do this?
Can I really carry on just a casual relationship with Camden when he acts like this? When he calls me his but then he doesn’t really mean it? Or if he does, I’m his but he can’t be mine.
I don’t know if I can go on like this. I thought I could. I missed him so much I thought some Camden was better than none. But I don’t know if my heart can handle it. I’m almost sure I’ll be destroyed if I let myself have just the scraps of him he is willing to give me.
It takes a long time for me to fall asleep.
When I wake, Camden is gone, and all I have is the memory of what he said and our lovemaking etched into my mind.
I don’t know how to feel. All I know is that I want Camden so badly that I want it to be true. Maybe my hopes are coloring what he really means.
I need him a hundred percent sober when he tells me that he wants me.
Did he mean anything that he said? He was drunk but was he that drunk?