Page 37 of Delicious (Delicious #1)

Chapter Eight

Euan

I finish showering and douching, get dried, and stand in the middle of my bedroom, staring at the bed. Shit. I invited Cameron up to my bedroom for sex. My heart is pounding, my skin is tingling, and the prospect of having his hands running over my body has made me hard. We shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t stop myself wanting him. I won’t stop myself from having him.

He wants me naked. How long will he be? Should I lie on the bed and try to look sexy? Should I sit? Should I wait in the bathroom until I hear him coming? Should I hide under the quilt? Should I put my dressing gown on? No. He’ll think I’ve changed my mind. I plump up my pillows and lie on top of the quilt. I want to look sexy, but have no idea how to arrange my body, so I try out a variety of positions like a drama student moving from one tableau to the next. I feel silly. At the very least, I need to look like I want him, so I rub my cock until it’s hard. It doesn’t take long.

“Well, hello there.” Cameron lounges against the doorframe, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the corner of his mouth. “You are even sexier than I imagined.”

Am I?

“And I feel overdressed.” He takes his T-shirt off and walks towards the bed.

He is stunning. Long neck, waxed torso, and slender hips, with pronounced V-lines disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

He rests one knee on the edge of the mattress and undoes his belt. “I thought you might have changed your mind.”

I don’t blame him for thinking that. I’ve been blowing hot and cold on him all morning.

I shake my head. “Have you?”

He rakes his teeth over his lower lip. “No.” He pops open his button fly and slides his jeans over his hips, revealing tight, white underpants and the long, thick, hard outline of his cock.

“Fuck.”

He grins, steps out of his jeans, and tugs his socks off. “Did you enjoy your shower?”

“Yes. How did the icing go?”

“Eh. Let’s just say I got better with practice. The twenty-fourth cake looks amazing.”

“Twenty-second. We ate two. Or your twenty-third. I decorated one.”

He sniggers. “You’re talking really fast.”

“I do when I’m—” What? Nervous? Flustered? Gagging for it?

He cocks an eyebrow, resting his hands on the waistband of his underpants. He’s teasing me.

“Waiting for a gorgeous guy to do wicked things to me,” I say.

“You do that a lot, do you?”

“No. It’s been over a year since I’ve been with anyone.”

He widens his eyes.

Heat rises to my cheeks. “I told you it had been a while.”

“Are you sure you’re okay for me to top you?”

“Yes.” I’m breathless with desire. “I want you to.” I can’t explain why, but there’s something sexy about wanting a younger man to fuck me. About wanting to surrender myself to him. “Let me see you.”

He pushes his underpants down a fraction, allowing me to see neatly trimmed pubic hair.

“More.”

A little farther, giving me my first glimpse of his length.

“More.”

He pushes them down his thighs. His cock springs up, the head briefly grazing against his stomach.

I suck in a breath. “Gorgeous.”

“Me or my cock?”

I can’t speak. Every word dies in my throat in an awkward, embarrassed squeak.

He laughs, which makes his cock bounce, and steps out of his underwear. He stands, hands on his hips, letting me stare at his beautiful body.

“It’s hot that you think my cock is gorgeous.”

“All of you is gorgeous.” Have I redeemed myself?

He crawls onto the bed, coming towards me on his hands and knees. He straddles me, moving closer until he can kiss me. “You’re gorgeous too.”

I twine my fingers into his hair and pull him into another longer, more passionate kiss. I cannot get enough of kissing him. He still tastes of cake and icing. The saltiness of my cum is long gone.

He moans and kisses me harder as our tongues tangle. “So fucking sexy.” He glances around my room.

“Is it what you imagined?” I’m breathless.

“Mostly. Neat. Organised. Like you. To be honest, my fantasies focused on you rather than your bedroom. Please tell me you’ve got lube and a condom?”

“Yes.”

He scoots away while I turn awkwardly and scrabble in my drawer until I find supplies. They were shoved at the back, unused for months. I check the expiry date, sighing when I discover the lube and the condoms are good for several months. I would have cried if they’d been out of date. I hand them to him.

He kneels, staring at them. “We’re about to cross a line.”

“We already have.” We’ve kissed—lots. He’s sucked me off. In my kitchen! No one has ever given me a blow job in my kitchen before.

He meets my stare, eyebrows pinched together. “There are lines, and then there are lines.”

My stomach churns. “Having doubts?”

“No. Just making sure you’re not.”

I suck in a breath. Is this wrong? We’re consenting adults. We want each other. How can it be wrong? What will Lewis say when he inevitably finds out? Will I ever be able to look my best friend in the eye again?

“Euan?”

I’ll cross that bridge when—and if—it comes to it. I want Cameron. He wants me. Right now, that’s all that matters. My cock aches. My skin tingles. My heart races. My body is telling me this is right. My head doesn’t get a say.

“I’m not.”

He relaxes and grins. “Well, okay, then. Do me a favour, handsome. Get on all fours for me.”

A thrill runs through me. His bossy tone excites me. I get on all fours, my arse pointed in his direction, and spread my knees as much as is comfortable. The mattress depresses. He strokes my lower back and releases an approving sound.

He squeezes lube over my arse. I shiver from the sudden shock of cold. He runs his finger over my pucker tenderly. My muscles tremble and quiver in response.

“Thank you for trusting me with your arse,” he says.

I laugh. He slips his finger inside me, taking me by surprise. Oh, fuck, it feels so good. I’d almost forgotten how good arse play feels.

“Nice?” he asks.

“Yes.”

I allow my trembling arms to collapse so I’m leaning on my elbows and forearms instead of my hands. I bow my head and groan as he fingers me slowly. The tip of his finger brushes over my prostate. He cups, squeezes, and rolls my balls with his other hand. I gasp. At this rate, I’ll spill my load before he gets his cock anywhere near me. I’ve already come once. He hasn’t orgasmed at all.

“Cameron!”

“Yes?”

“I—” I grip the sheets. “You’re going to make me?—”

He chuckles. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it?”

I whimper, nod, and then groan as he releases my balls and slips two fingers inside me. It’s glorious. My arse hugs his fingers. He moves them smoothly and expertly, teasing me, warming me up, getting me ready to receive his cock. I want him so badly. I can’t remember ever wanting someone this much. Shit, I’ve desired him for a long time. Far longer than I’ve ever admitted to myself. I was in denial every time I got lost in his smile or struck up a conversation simply to hear his voice. I’m not in denial any longer. I want Cameron. I need Cameron.

“Fuck me!” I cry.

He tuts. “So impatient.”

“I need you, Cameron. Please.”

“You need to be patient.” He slips a third finger inside me on a satisfying squelch of lube. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” His voice is low and husky. “I’m going to take my sweet time.”

I tremble. Half of me wants him to take all the time in the world so I can enjoy him for as long as possible. The other half wants him to fuck me hard and fast. Right fucking now. That half craves the high of release, the buzz of having a man come inside me. That half needs him to take control and fuck me without restraint. But I’ll be patient. I’m giving myself to him. Surrendering to his whims.

He slips his fingers out of me and kisses the small of my back, right over my spine. “Now you’re ready.” He slides his cock over my crack a few times, giving me a taste of what’s to come.

He rustles the condom wrapper and rips it open. I glance over my shoulder. He rolls the condom onto his engorged cock and applies plenty of lube. I lick my lips.

He waggles his eyebrows. “Ready?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I’m really looking forward to this.”

“Me too.” I press my forehead against the mountain of pillows and take deep, slow breaths.

He nudges the head of his cock against my hole, teasing me, causing my muscles to flex in response to his presence.

“Please fuck me,” I whine.

He grips my hips, digging his fingers into my flesh. It’s divine. He pushes inside me, sighing deeply.

“Oh, you feel so fucking good, Euan.”

“Yeah? So do you.”

His hard length fills me up nicely. He stays still for several seconds. Is he savouring the sensation of being inside me? I’m back to being torn. I love the feel of him simply being inside me, warming his cock while my arse gets used to his presence, but I want him to thrust his hips. I want him to ride my arse. Oh, fuck, I want him .

“How do you like it?” he asks.

“However you want to give it to me.” I grit my teeth. I sound needy. I am needy. “Just fuck me.”

He laughs, holds my hips tighter, and fucks me. Slowly at first, each stroke strong, long, measured, and deep. He quickly picks up pace. Soon he’s grunting as his balls and thighs slap against my arse. I rock in time with him, hollowing the small of my back so he can get deeper. So he can brush the head of his cock over my prostate on every wonderful thrust. I pant and groan. I clutch the pillows with my fingers. I enjoy every wondrous second of this stunning man pounding my arse. This is really happening. Cameron is fucking me, and I’m enjoying it so fucking much I can hardly bear it.

“That feels so good, Cam.” It’s the first time I’ve ever used the short form of his name. I don’t think I could manage his full name right now. Too many syllables to spit out when all I want to do is groan and moan and tell him how fucking amazing this is. “Harder. Please harder.”

“You want it harder?” His voice is light and breathy.

“Yes!”

He thrusts into me like a drill sergeant sprinting. His rhythm is hard, fast, and perfect. I let out a long moan, which quivers and vibrates with every snap of his hips.

“You like it like that, handsome?”

“Yes!” I like him calling me handsome too. It makes me feel good.

He presses his palm against the small of my back. Manages to bury his cock deeper and deeper. He cups my balls and rolls them, then grasps my cock, stroking it in time with his desperate, noisy, wonderful thrusts. I’m beside myself. My balls are heavy. My groin quivers. My cock aches.

“Cameron, I—” My orgasm explodes out of me, soaking his hand in sticky cum, leaving me shivering and shaking.

He releases my cock and holds my hips like he’s riding a bucking bronco. He thrusts until he comes with a satisfied grunt and a loud, happy sigh, his cock shuddering inside me.

“Oh, wow.” He pulls out gently.

I summon up the energy to roll over, facing him.

He’s taken the condom off and is tying a knot in the end. He drops it on the bedside table to be dealt with later and lies beside me.

I stroke his face, his collarbone, his chest. “Thank you.”

He smiles. “You tired me out.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I tired you out?”

“Yes! Wanting it hard and fast like that. Phew! I need a few minutes to recover.”

I laugh. “Only a few minutes?”

“Hey, I’m in my twenties. I recover fast.”

Faster than me, no doubt. Ten years makes a big difference. I don’t want to think about that now. About the years between us. About Lewis and what he might think. I lay my head on Cameron’s chest. His heartbeat thrashes against my ear.

I brush my hand over his cock, which remains flaccid. “Let me know when you’ve recovered, and I’ll make you come again. I owe you for earlier.”

He kisses my nose. “You don’t owe me anything, Euan. I enjoyed sucking you off and drinking you dry.”

I shiver.

“And I enjoyed fucking you.” He flops his hand over his forehead and stares at the ceiling. “What now?”

“We cuddle, and we recover.”

“And then?” His voice has a worried quiver to it.

I sigh and move so I’m mirroring his position. “I don’t know.”

He rolls onto his side, props himself on his elbow, and runs his fingers through my hair. “Do you want to do this again?”

“Sex or baking cupcakes.”

“I was thinking of sex, but I could be down for baking more cupcakes.”

“We shouldn’t.”

“Bake more cupcakes?”

I chuckle. “Have sex again. Do any of this again.”

“Why?”

“What if your dad finds out?”

“I’m an adult. He doesn’t get to dictate who I fuck. Or who I date.”

Date. The word hangs between us. He was making a statement, so why did it feel like a question?

“It’s not that simple, Cameron. This could ruin my friendship with your dad.”

He wrinkles his nose. “If it does, it wasn’t much of a friendship.”

If only that were true. Oh, to be able to see the world through the eyes of a twenty-five-year-old again, when you’re convinced everything is yours for the taking and that nothing is complicated. Sadly, life is complicated. Friendships are complicated. Relationships even more so.

“Let’s not worry about it now,” I say. Which is a cop-out if ever there was one.

“Just enjoy the moment?”

“Yes.”

“All right.”

It’s not all right, but apparently, we’re also willing to bury our heads in the sand.

“What about your marking?” Cameron asks.

“Forget the marking. I want to stay in bed with you.”

“Sounds wonderful.” He snuggles against me.

I wrap my arm around him and hold him tight. For the next few hours, I intend to forget that anything outside this room exists. For the next few hours, it’s just me and Cameron.